Chapter 58: Do You See? My Dear Sister

Chapter 58: Do You See It Now, My Dear Sister?

The candlelight in the chamber burned quietly, casting overlapping shadows of the two onto the floor.

When Qin Chanyue tried to push him away, Chu Hang forcefully pinned her down.

He insisted on continuing right before her eyes.

He wanted her to see.

Do you see it now, my dear sister?

His lips and tongue moved with a sorrowful, muffled cry.

It was me who made love to you every day, me who consumed everything of yours, me who brought you joy and ensnared your heart—*me*, *me*, *me*, *me*, *me*, *me*!

All the suppressed jealousy and unspoken frustration from the past erupted at this moment. While feeling the pain, he also experienced the ecstasy of tearing everything apart. His bleeding heart was torn raw from his chest, forcing Qin Chanyue to choke it down.

Just as he had devoured all of her, she must now swallow his love.

Do you hear me, Chanyue?

Ignoring her panic, he embraced her tightly, with those eyes burning up at her as he mouthed wordless screams—one after another. This was his grief-stricken, desperate love.

I love you. I love you! I love you—I love you—I love you—I love you—I love you—I love you—I love you—I love you—I love you!

—

At the sight of those familiar eyes, Qin Chanyue sobered instantly.

The eyes of the Prince of Southern Pacification—she had never mistaken them. His sharp brows and single-lidded eyes, dark irises like the swamps of the southern border, cold and depthless.

This was her stern and sparing-with-words guardian. Reserved by nature, he wore an unyielding expression toward everyone. Wielding immense authority, no one dared defy him.

Qin Chanyue had grown up under his discipline, avoiding him out of annoyance. When he became the Prince of Southern Pacification, she began to revere and fear him, no longer daring to throw tantrums as she had in her youth. In her presence, he had always been disciplined and proper, as steady as a mountain.

This very guardian—this very guardian—now knelt before her, gripping her, biting her, stubbornly raising his head to stare into her eyes. His lips and tongue became the sharpest weapons, forcing wordless shrieks from Qin Chanyue. Though on his knees, he held her life in his grasp.

Her fingers clutched his hair, pushing against his back, trying to shove him away.

But how could she? Having come this far, Chu Hang knew there was no turning back now. Before everything became irreparable, he would savor this final sweetness.

He didn’t speak, didn’t respond to her struggles—only pressed her harder against his mouth, devouring her with all his might. Qin Chanyue was tongue-tied and helpless, every attempt to push him away met with an even wilder version of her guardian. Lost between panic and overwhelming pleasure, she arched back, pulling his hair as she collapsed. He greedily swallowed every last drop, refusing to share even a trace with anyone else.

Everything would end today. His beautiful dream was torn apart by his own hands, turning him into a hysterical beast clinging to her, unwilling to let go.

The carpet beneath them had just been replaced—exchanged for an expensive Persian carpet purchased at great cost from *Dafeng*, woven with gold-threaded brocade, so soft it felt like lying on clouds.

She was still trembling, her mind wiped clean, her loins still throbbing. As she lay helpless, she saw her guardian loom over her.

Her guardian—Chu Hang, the Prince of Southern Pacification.

As he closed in, his face was streaked with tears, his jaw clenched so tightly it twisted almost unrecognizably. Breathing heavily, he threw himself onto her, crushing her in a desperate embrace.

Tears—only the weak shed them.

Qin Chanyue gaped at him, utterly stunned.

When he pinned her down, it was like a desperate, dying desperado with only one day left to live, so he cast aside all restraint, indulging in one final act of madness. Every ounce of his strength seemed poured into this moment, as if there would be no tomorrow.

He was so fierce, yet large tears rolled from his eyes, falling with soft *pats* onto Qin Chanyue’s neck. Her hands clutched his arms, unable to form a single coherent word—only broken whimpers escaped before he immediately crushed his mouth to hers desperately.

Perhaps he feared hearing Qin Chanyue’s voice, feared her questioning, *Why you?* So he shut her out. Tonight, he had become a reckless, madman with no regard for consequences.

Qin Chanyue’s lips were sealed, her voice stifled, but her eyes remained wide with horrified disbelief.

Chu Hang couldn’t bear to meet Qin Chanyue’s gaze either. He dreaded her accusations, the sharp words she might hurl at him. The love surging within him might be nothing but repulsive in her eyes—he couldn’t bear to hear it.

So he chose to turn her onto her stomach.

When he pressed flush against her back again, his tears came in torrents.

*Chanyue, Chanyue…* From this night onward, there would be no more "Zhou Hai." His solitary charade had ended—not just "Zhou Hai," but also the relationship between the Prince of Southern Pacification and Qin Chanyue. He was no longer her adoptive brother. He had become a despicable man coveting his own sister. She would never visit him again. She might even loathe him, consider him the most disgusting man in the world.

He pressed flush against her back, biting the smooth curve of her neck, and when she gasped in pain, he covered her lips with his hand once more.

His hand was so large it could smother half her face. His elbow was strong enough to support his weight with one arm. His bones were sturdy enough to lift her entire body with a single limb. She felt like a bowstring about to snap, her flesh trembling under unbearable strain. Only now did she realize—in all their past encounters, Chu Hang had never truly used his full strength on her.

He refused to let her make a sound, nor would he meet her eyes, so he rent her undergarment in two—one strip gagging her lips, the other blindfolding her. He was brutal, unrelenting, yet as he buried his face against her neck, his body trembled with muffled weeping.

Qin Chanyue didn’t even have the strength left to cry.

After the initial shock came all-consuming, merciless rapture, endless and all-devouring, as if he meant to devour her whole, leaving no room to breathe. He licked every tear from her face, determined to swallow every part of her.

She couldn’t resist.

The night was still long.

——

The commotion in the chamber that night was unusually loud. The maids lingering beneath the corridor eaves retreated even farther, none daring to eavesdrop.

The autumn wind howled, making the lanterns shudder and the jade wind chimes hanging from the eaves sway wildly. Their clinking was sharper than the wind’s whistle.

The housekeeper rushed over midway but, seeing the state of the chamber, didn’t dare enter and hurried away instead.

The turmoil lasted all night. Only at dawn’s first light did a figure emerge, face hidden behind a mask. Without waiting for a guide, it darted away like a will-o’-the-wisp, vanishing from Moonview Garden before anyone could catch a glimpse.

——

The sun gradually rose, setting the glazed tiles of the rooftops ablaze with light.

In the chilly autumn morning, Liu Yandai, having stayed up all night, finally steeled herself to confess the truth to her mother-in-law. Shivering in the dawn chill, she hurried straight to Moonview Garden.

Yet when she arrived, a servant whispered that Lady Qin had yet to rise. Left with no choice, she returned to Booksea Courtyard.

But even there, she found no peace. She’d barely crossed the threshold when a message arrived from the Crown Prince—*Would she like to go see an opera with him today?*

As if the Crown Prince truly cared for opera! That snake had ulterior motives.

Back when Liu Yandai had needed his help, she had scrambled to please him, enduring his bullying without complaint. But now, with her mother-in-law’s return and the marquis’s household stable, she had no desire to humor him.

Not only did the Crown Prince constantly stir up trouble, but he also kept scheming to drag her into the palace. That place was teeming with women—every corner fraught with schemes. How could Liu Yandai endure it? And if she did enter the palace, would she be his wife or a concubine? As a concubine, she’d be bullied. As a wife, she’d have to tolerate him dallying with his harem. She’d rather stay in the marquis’s household.

After running the numbers, the Crown Prince wasn’t worth the trouble.

Liu Yandai decided against going—though she didn’t dare outright tell him *it’s over.*

Earlier, while trying to cozy up to the Crown Prince, she had concealed the matter of the child in her womb and fawned over him at every turn. Now that Mother-in-law was here, she wanted to call it quits—how shamelessly calculating! To discard someone the moment they seemed of no use—wouldn’t that enrage the Crown Prince?

She dared only to have her maid reply, "Mother-in-law is here now. I fear being discovered. Tell him to wait a little longer."

Wait, just wait. Perhaps if she waited long enough, the Crown Prince would forget about her?

Holding onto this thought, Liu Yandai turtled up—thinking, as long as I don’t stick my neck out, you can’t come after me, right?

With anyone else, that might have worked. But with the Crown Prince… there was no guarantee he wouldn’t retaliate even more fiercely.

Clutching this sliver of hope, Liu Yandai obediently stayed at home, not daring to set foot outside.

While she kept to herself, the Moon-Viewing Estate fell even quieter. For three whole days, there was no sign of movement, driving the estate’s head housekeeper up the wall—with the mistress not emerging, who would manage the household affairs?

Minor matters could be overlooked, and the old woman could handle them herself. But recently, something neither big nor small had occurred in the estate.

On the very night they had been released from prison, the mistress had ordered that the Second Young Master and Miss Bai be sent to the countryside manor. The housekeeper had led the servants to apprehend them, only to find that the couple had slipped away under night's cover.

In her urgency, the housekeeper had instructed the servants to seize them immediately. Yet, upon being spotted, the Second Young Master had grabbed Miss Bai’s hand and bolted. As they ran, a group of men had dropped from the sky and whisked the two away.

Who had rescued them? The housekeeper had no idea! In the dead of night, with the curfew in effect, they had been on edge just venturing out to capture the pair. Seeing them taken away, the servants didn't dare cause a commotion and quietly retreated.

Anxious and uneasy, the housekeeper had returned to report to Qin Chanyue, only to find her entertaining that male companion. So, she waited.

Unexpectedly, after indulging with the consort, the mistress had secluded herself for three days, refusing to see anyone. The old housekeeper, at her wit’s end, could only wait helplessly.

As the fourth day approached, the housekeeper finally worked up the nerve to seek out Qin Chanyue—tomorrow was the homecoming feast.

Typically, invitations for such feasts were sent out three days in advance. After the invitations had been dispatched, the banquet was set for the fourth day. The mistress had previously overseen the preparations, and the invitations had already been sent. Now, uncertain of her mistress’s condition, the housekeeper had no choice but to check in.

With these two matters weighing on her, the housekeeper approached and gave the wooden door a soft knock.

—

Beyond the wooden door, separated by a single wall, Qin Chanyue lay on the bed in the side chamber, seemingly caught in some troubling dream.

The mistress was stunningly beautiful, her figure voluptuous with shapely hips and long legs. Her ink-black hair spilled around her like water. Caught in some troubling dream, she tossed and turned restlessly on the bed.

"Foster brother, don’t—" Her crimson lips parted, whispering forbidden words. In her dream, the mistress writhed, her porcelain skin flushing with waves of rosy heat.

Only when the sound at the door reached her did Qin Chanyue snap awake.

As she first stirred, her bleary eyes focused on the swirling floral patterns above, her entire body felt drenched all over—as if freshly pulled from water.

In those first moments of wakefulness, the dream's afterimages clung stubbornly in her mind. Her delicate fingers clutched the bedding, and her voice, too, seemed soaked through—thick and damp.

Several breaths later, Qin Chanyue finally broke free from that haze. Once fully awake, the realization of what she had just dreamed set her cheeks burning with shame.

That day… Ever since discovering it had been her foster brother, she had been too ashamed to face anyone, endlessly reliving those moments in her head.

The strange Deputy General Qian in the Prince of Southern Pacification’s residence, who had bent over backwards to prevent her from seeing the prince. The male consort who had accompanied her, always masked and unwilling to reveal his face. The unmasked Zhou Hai, whose frame had seemed slightly smaller than the masked one’s. And that dream… All these pieces falling into place—how could Qin Chanyue not understand?

From the very beginning, there had been no Zhou Hai—only her foster brother.

From that first night she had been drugged, it had been him. And every night after. She'd been caught up in the deception, unaware—until she had tried to remove his mask.

Her foster brother had disguised himself as a male companion to be intimate with her.

Remembering how roughly he'd claimed her after she had unmasked him, Qin Chanyue's knees went weak.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess.

Zhou Hai was her big brother, and her big brother was Zhou Hai—no, the Zhou Hai who came to her every night was her big brother, while the Zhou Hai during the day remained the same as before. She had been deceived by both her big brother and Zhou Hai. Deputy General Qian probably knew the truth as well, but as for Liu Yandai... that naive girl wouldn't know anything.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine this person being her big brother, let alone that she had slept with him—or worse, that she'd let him...

The moment she recalled the specific details of that day, Qin Chanyue’s face flushed scarlet. And when she thought of her adoptive brother, anger surged within her. Her pale fists hammered the bed in frustration, her movements tinged with helplessness.

It was actually him... How could she face this?

Although Chu Heng was her adoptive brother with no blood relation, Qin Chanyue had always genuinely regarded him as family and had never once thought of him that way. But that night, when Chu Heng held her, sobbing while he... she could clearly sense his feelings for her.

Chu Heng craved her. Chu Heng adored her. Chu Heng even...

Since when had this started?

They had known each other since childhood—nearly twenty years. Had Chu Heng harbored these feelings for her all this time? This was even more shocking than Zhou Ziheng’s betrayal.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of these emotions, Qin Chanyue could hardly bear to think of Chu Heng.

Just the memory of those eyes made her knees tremble, and the image of being fiercely possessed that day flashed through her mind. She couldn’t possibly—

*Knock, knock, knock.*

The sound at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned toward the entrance and hastily called out, “Come in.”

The old stewardess entered, announcing from the doorway, “This worthless servant begs forgiveness, Madam. I have urgent matters to report.”

Having served her for over a decade, Qin Chanyue couldn’t be bothered to compose herself. She merely tightened the jade-green satin quilt around herself and said, “Enter.”

The old stewardess stepped inside, kneeling behind a beaded curtain. She dared not raise her head until her mistress commanded her to. When she finally looked up, she saw Qin Chanyue sitting swaddled in bedding.

The quilt contrasted sharply with her fair skin, making her look like a piece of exquisite jade. Even more striking were her lips, as red as ripe cherries, glossy and impossibly tempting.

The old stewardess averted her gaze after a single glance and bowed her head. “This worthless servant begs forgiveness, Madam.”

Qin Chanyue glanced at her and said, “Speak.”

The stewardess then recounted what had happened that day.

“This old servant led the men to find the Second Young Master and Miss Bai, but they had already fled. We gave chase but failed to catch them.”

After a pause, she added, “They were taken away by a group of people. By then, it was already past curfew, and we had to pull back.”

Once finished, the stewardess cautiously lifted her eyes to gauge Qin Chanyue’s reaction.

In the past, Qin Chanyue would have been furious, but today, for some reason, she remained silent, sitting motionless on the bed.

It wasn’t until the stewardess glanced at her a third time that she finally stirred. “Since they’re gone... let them be. The banquet tomorrow will proceed as planned.”

While the stewardess had no idea where they had gone, Qin Chanyue could guess—they’d probably run off to the Second Prince’s faction.

In all of Chang’an, only the Second Prince would risk harboring Zhou Chiye and Bai Yuning now.

Chang’an was vast, but getting by wasn’t easy. Without the protection of the marquis’s estate, Zhou Chiye would have to fend for himself. Soon enough, he would realize how wrong he'd been all along.

Qin Chanyue’s expression remained indifferent. After a moment, she said, “Understood. You may leave.”

Head bowed, she whispered, “Yes,” before retreating.

After the housekeeper left, Qin Chanyue lay alone in the side room, feeling restless no matter how she lay. It was as if a fire burned within her, causing an itch deep in her bones, making her entire body uneasy. She tossed and turned several times on the bed, her back going numb with discomfort.

She had inadvertently discovered her older brother's feelings for her but had no idea how to handle it. This matter couldn’t simply be brushed aside as if nothing had happened. Over and over, she pondered it, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw the image of her brother pinning her down, his face streaked with tears.

It was simply…

Qin Chanyue raised a hand to cover her face.

She didn't sleep a wink that night.

The next day, the estate buzzed with preparations for the welcoming banquet, lively from the early morning.

It was autumn now, and the weather had turned chilly, so the banquet wasn’t held in the garden but in the front hall instead. The capable maids had spent the previous day clearing the hall, removing screens, tables, chairs, and flower stands, then laying down thick carpets and arranging rows of low tables for the guests.

Food and wine had been prepared well in advance. Beyond that, they had also hired professional dancers from reputable troupes to perform. Some noble households kept their own dancers, and some even had their concubines perform for entertainment. At banquets where spirits ran high, concubines might even be exchanged as gifts. But Qin Chanyue disliked such customs, so the marquisate had no such dancers. Whenever guests visited, they would invite proper performers from outside.

The banquet was set to begin at early afternoon. Since the Crown Prince was attending, the other guests arrived early. These were court officials and generals, all aware of the banquet’s significance. Though ostensibly a welcoming feast, it was more like a "loyalty banquet"—after today’s wine, they would all be united as members of the Crown Prince faction. Thus, unlike previous banquets at the marquisate, none brought additional guests or their families. Most came alone.

Normally, others from the household would have joined in hosting, but now there was no one left—those bearing the Zhou surname had all been expelled. Qin Chanyue had no choice but to press her daughter-in-law into service, and the two of them handled the welcoming and seeing-off of guests together.

During this time, Liu Yandai had visibly matured. She no longer faltered when receiving guests, though she still carried a gentle, inexperienced demeanor. Yet there was a newfound cleverness in her actions, and she guided guests confidently to the front hall, finally embodying the demeanor of the lady of the marquisate.

One by one, the guests arrived, exchanged a few words with Qin Chanyue, and were then escorted to the front hall by Liu Yandai.

Most of today’s attendees were military officers under the Prince of Southern Pacification. Many of these officers were orphans raised by the Qin Family Army. Though not particularly close to Qin Chanyue—some having met her only a handful of times—they all shared the surname Qin.

In the eyes of the Qin Family Army, they were sworn siblings.

Back then, the Qin family had been decimated on the frontier. To preserve their standing and prevent their lineage from dying out, they had to quickly establish a new generation. Thus, the Qin family adopted a "foster system."

The Qin Family Army was small in number, and many were unable to bear children. In the imperial court, to secure one’s position, one needed many sons and daughters. Without people, how could one compete? So, the Qin Family Army took in orphans wholesale, bestowing the Qin name upon them and raising them as their own. Only through numbers could they stand firm.

Only Chu Hang stubbornly refused to change his surname.

At the thought of Chu Hang, Qin Chanyue involuntarily tensed her legs.

Now, whenever she thought of him, that moment replayed in her mind.

As frustration simmered within her, Qin Chanyue glanced at the sky.

It was nearing early afternoon. All the other guests had arrived—now only the most esteemed one remained: the Crown Prince.

As if summoned, no sooner had Qin Chanyue’s thoughts turned to the Crown Prince than a gilded carriage drawn by four horses appeared in the distance.

The Crown Prince had arrived.

Coincidentally, Liu Yandai had just finished seeing off the last guest and returned. Qin Chanyue waved her over.

The carriage rumbled to a stop before Qin Chanyue. The Crown Prince stepped out first, and just as she began to smile in greeting, a second man alighted from the carriage behind him.

Those familiar eyes, after three days, locked onto Qin Chanyue once more.