Zhong Wenyue, the second son of the Zhong family. Younger brother to Zhong Lin by blood, older half-brother to Zhong Cheng, and her own stepbrother.

Jiang Yi, unsure how to respond to his enthusiasm, blinked owlishly, her wide eyes giving her a sweet, innocent look.

Zhong Wenyue walked towards her, smiling. “Don’t you recognize me?” Before she could answer, his expression shifted to one of mock disappointment. “How hurtful. We’ve met, and yet I’m the only one who remembers. My dear sister disdains her brother, forgetting me in the blink of an eye.”

This was a new experience for Jiang Yi. She glanced nervously between Zhong Lin and Zhong Cheng, flustered and unsure how to react. “I… I remember you. You’re Second Young Master Zhong Wenyue. I… I haven’t forgotten.”

Zhong Wenyue chuckled. “Just teasing.”

He straightened, his six-foot-one frame blocking the light. Then, he bent down, his handsome face close to hers, his beautiful eyes gazing into hers. “So cute,” he murmured, his voice slow and soft. “No wonder you’re so adored.”

Jiang Yi’s breath hitched in her throat. Her heart raced under his gaze. She felt a nervous flutter, a sense of being seen through, a touch of embarrassed vulnerability. A delicate pink blush crept up her cheeks.

Zhong Wenyue’s gaze lingered, deepening, a subtle flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Then, he straightened up, brushed past her, and with long strides, headed upstairs.

Only after he was gone could Jiang Yi breathe freely again, her mind still reeling. What did he mean by that? She looked up, meeting the gazes of the other two men.

Zhong Cheng was the first to look away, his expression cool and indifferent. Zhong Lin held her gaze. “Let’s have breakfast,” he said.

Jiang Yi nodded numbly. “Okay.”

Her cheeks were flushed a lovely rosy pink. So soft to the touch, he imagined. Zhong Lin lightly rubbed his fingertips together, his usually cold eyes softening.

Zhong Cheng noticed the small gesture and couldn’t help but glance back at Jiang Yi. He had arrived earlier that morning, around five, but hadn’t wanted to disturb her. He’d gone to his room to rest, and waking up a while later, found she was still asleep. He’d decided to check on her and had seen his older brother emerge from her room.

His brother’s sleepwear had been disheveled, his expression satisfied. He’d met Zhong Cheng’s gaze without a hint of embarrassment and had even spoken, something quite unusual. “She’s still sleeping.” The words hung in the air, ambiguous, possessive, and strangely provocative. In that moment, Zhong Cheng had found his brother childish.

And he’d realized he was being just as childish, because his immediate instinct had been to retort, I was the one holding her earlier. But he’d caught himself, swallowed the words, a knot of discomfort tightening in his chest. Perhaps it was for the best. They all knew what was in each other’s hearts. Now, it was simply out in the open.

Back in the present, in the span of a few milliseconds, both men looked away from Jiang Yi, their gazes colliding silently before sliding apart.