Chapter 4 Give Me Your Husband!

Chapter 4: Give Me Your Husband!

Yuan Che lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. It seemed a servant had come in during the night, but seeing him motionless, quietly slipped into the attendant's cot in the corner to rest.

He kept his eyes closed, wanting to ask someone to help him change clothes, but drowsiness weighed heavier and heavier, and his eyelids never managed to open.

His intuition told him the night-duty servant had been swapped again. The familiar one, even if he were already asleep, would follow protocol—gently wake him, help him into his pajamas, and settle him in. Thinking of this, a slight flicker of displeasure crossed Yuan Che's mind, but he didn't dwell on it. He just turned over, facing away from the dark sea outside the window, and sank back into his dream.

In the early hours, rain began to fall again, drizzling and shrouding the entire island. The sea outside the window was hazy, and raindrops slid down the floor-to-ceiling glass in streaks.

Yuan Che was jolted awake by a beam of light.

As soon as he opened his eyes, a hand covered his mouth.

"It's me," Yuan Simiao's voice sounded in the darkness.

She then turned the flashlight toward her own face, and in that instant of light, she made an exaggerated funny face at Yuan Che.

"Sis..." Yuan Che squinted, mumbling. "Why are you here?"

"None of your business." She lifted her chin, her tone carrying her usual matter-of-factness. "Scoot over. Make room for me."

Yuan Che was still groggy. Seeing his sister kneeling by the bed in her pajamas felt surreal. Yuan Simiao had long, jet-black hair that fell to her shoulders, slender almond-shaped eyes, and a straight nose beneath her neat bangs. In the cold light of the night flashlight, her face looked both familiar and carried an inexplicable eeriness.

But he didn't ask anything. He simply moved toward the inside of the bed to give her space. As he sat up, he glanced subconsciously at the corner—the little cot was empty.

"Did you send that person out?" he asked in a low voice.

Yuan Simiao didn't answer. Instead, like a mischievous little monkey, she rolled nimbly onto the bed beside him and quickly lay down. Her long hair spread out, brushing against Yuan Che's face. The familiar scent of her hair invaded his nostrils. He raised a hand to push it away, but she caught his wrist mid-air—

"I'm leaving soon," Yuan Simiao suddenly whispered right into his ear.

"Where to?" Yuan Che asked in the same hushed tone, even though the room seemed empty except for the two of them.

Yuan Simiao didn't reply. Instead, she turned sideways and encircled him somewhat clumsily with her arms. Yuan Che froze in that embrace that was both familiar and strange—the last time his sister had held him like this was many years ago. His intuition told him his sister was in trouble.

"Even if you don't want to get married, running away isn't necessary," he stated calmly. That was his honest opinion.

"What do you know?" Yuan Simiao retorted sharply, her tone carrying her usual cold disdain. "Yuan Jingtian has so many children—why did he pick me to marry? Because he's already given up on both of us, understand? He's left us here for years just to be a pair of respectable mascots for the old Yuan family!"

"Mascot... what does that mean?" Yuan Che asked inappropriately.

"Shut up!" Yuan Simiao slapped him on the back of his head in frustration. He tried to dodge, but tucked tightly in her hug, he couldn't move.

"Do you know what people outside are saying about the Yuan family? Do you think Yuan Jingtian can keep all those shady things he does up in the mountains under wraps? He's never treated us like his own children. What kind of father doesn't come home even once a year?"

"Yu Yizhou's father doesn't come home often either," Yuan Che couldn't help retorting.

Yu Yizhou was practically their childhood friend. The three of them had grown up together. When they were ten, Yu Yizhou's family moved away from the island, but they had maintained correspondence over the years. Yuan Simiao, often too lazy to write, would force Yuan Che to write for her. Every time, Yuan Che would painstakingly write neatly and skillfully filter out his sister's nonsense, leaving only the normal parts. Because Yu Yizhou's father had business dealings with Yuan Jingtian, his letters were never intercepted by the estate.

"You're comparing yourself to Yu Yizhou?" Yuan Simiao's voice suddenly rose. "Yu Yizhou's father ran away long ago! Look at how many wives his father has. Now look at Yuan Jingtian. Yu Yizhou is an only child. Us? You and I can live here legitimately only because Mom is his legal wife. He needs a seemingly normal family to put on a show for outsiders, understand? This marriage too—find someone from outside the island with a background, marry me off casually, and then whatever the Yuan family does will seem legitimate. Simply put, the two of us are his fig leaf!"

Yuan Che listened, sighing softly in his heart. He didn't actually understand a single word his sister was saying, but he couldn't just leave her unanswered. He thought for a moment and then asked mildly, "Is your husband richer than our family?"

Before he finished speaking, another slap landed on his head. This time, she clearly didn't hold back. Yuan Che covered his head and nearly rolled off the mattress.

"I told you! He is not my husband!" Yuan Simiao sat up abruptly, her excited voice piercing in the empty room. "Do you have no memory?! I think you're just asking for a beating!"

With that, she reached out and grabbed Yuan Che's throat. This was Yuan Simiao's go-to move from childhood: first, slap when angry, then throw punches, and when enraged to the extreme, use both hands to strangle Yuan Che's neck.

She always seemed to be angry. Sometimes at others, but more often at herself. And when Yuan Che was around, it was as if she had the perfect tool, venting her emotions on her brother without reservation. Yuan Che often felt that his sister was actually lonelier than he was—when emotions became uncontrollable and things got out of hand, that angry, out-of-control behavior was the wall between her and the people around her.

And Yuan Che always lingered on both sides of that wall. One second his sister would punch and kick him, the next she would hold him tight, and the next, before any external harm could reach him, she'd shield him without hesitation. He wasn't so much his sister's brother; he was his sister's possession.

Sometimes Yuan Che thought that his sister must find great comfort in the fact that only she could hurt him—otherwise, how could she keep it up tirelessly for so many years?

Oxygen was slowly being cut off in the darkness. Yuan Che began to plead for mercy in a breathy voice.

Finally, her grip on his neck loosened. Yuan Simiao sat astride him, head lowered, eyes curved as she watched him gasp for air.

"That Lin guy, what's he worth?" She laughed, standing up from atop him. Her bare feet pressed into the soft mattress, her hands trembling slightly, but her voice was crisp and bright. "The news says half the industries in City A are surnamed Lin. Do you believe that? If he were really that powerful, would he even look at the Yuan family? Do you know what people outside the island call us? Bandits! Yuan Jingtian is a petty man. This marriage—who knows what scheme he's cooking up? Back then, he brought back that freak Yuan Yu'an, saying he'd take care of us, and then what?"

Yuan Simiao stopped there, just looking down at Yuan Che lying on the bed. In the silent exchange of glances, they shared an unspoken secret. Their broken childhood was the only tacit understanding between them. So many accumulated wounds had made "trusting Sis" almost instinctive—

"But even if you leave, Dad will find you," Yuan Che said, propping himself up on his elbows and sitting up with difficulty.

"Him?" Yuan Simiao sneered, then crouched down as if nothing had happened, sitting back beside him. "For me? He wouldn't bother."

"Do you want to come with me?" She nudged his shoulder gently. "I've saved up some stuff. Sold it, I can support you for a while."

"If I leave, this place will truly be empty. Dad will definitely come looking for us, won't he?" Yuan Che said, head lowered.

"Why do you overthink so much?" Her tone turned ethereal again. "Just tell me—do you want to come with me?"

Yuan Che was silent.

"I thought so." It sounded as if she sighed. She leaned back, her tone feigning lightness. "When I'm gone, you can have my room, my books, my bike, and the servant from my room... all yours, okay? Oh, and that Spanish teacher we had—what was her name... Ally? Right? I remember you liked her. She's yours too."

"It's Aris," Yuan Che corrected softly.

"Right, Aris." She curled her lips into a soft smile, then raised a finger and traced two imaginary points in the air. "Ally was the one who taught us arithmetic when we were little. I got them mixed up."

"But where will you go?" Yuan Che's mind was completely elsewhere.

"I haven't decided yet." Yuan Simiao turned her face sideways, her eyes bright in the darkness as she looked at him. "But no matter where I go, I'll write to you. You must reply, you know?"

"Okay." Yuan Che nodded, but a bright piece of his heart dimmed.

Right in front of him, Yuan Simiao suddenly gave him an extremely gentle smile—she was trying to soothe him with that smile, but her bright, sorrowful eyes hurt him.

For some reason, he thought of Lin Zaishan, the man who had briefly stayed on the island. That deep voice, that cold gaze, the raindrops still wet on his Adam's apple, and the hand that had gently enveloped his fingers... Everything about that man now surfaced in his mind like a thin mist.

That abrupt outsider—perhaps he was the first to treat him as a complete "person." He wasn't afraid of him like the servants, nor did he control him like his brother, nor abuse him hot and cold like his sister. That man simply appeared on a rainy day, reached out, and pulled him up. That was all.

The porcelain shattered by his sister lay in pieces on the floor, but his heart, under that unfamiliar shelter, was beating intact and violently.

So that day, it was his own heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears.

Once, twice, and again.

"Can I have Lin Zaishan?" he asked.

"What?"

"Lin Zaishan. If you don't want him... can you give him to me?" His voice was still calm, but carried a clear seriousness.

"You want to marry Lin Zaishan?" Yuan Simiao's eyes widened.

"Can I?" he asked instead of answering, meeting his sister's gaze calmly.

Yuan Simiao stared at him expressionlessly, as if processing this sudden question. After a moment, she burst into laughter without warning, her shoulders trembling lightly: "You're actually serious?"

"I just think... he's really good," he said, lowering his head and speaking the truth in a barely audible voice.

"Fine," Yuan Simiao agreed readily, surprisingly straightforward. "But I have a condition."

This quick consent sent a flicker of secret delight through Yuan Che's heart. He leaned forward slightly, looking at his sister with sincere eyes, and even the spot on his neck where she had pinched him seemed to hurt less.

"I'm leaving soon. You fold my clothes neatly and put them in the suitcase. Once I check and approve," she tilted her head, "Lin Zaishan will be your husband from then on. Deal?"

"Deal," Yuan Che agreed without hesitation, then asked, "And what about Dad... will you talk to him?"

"What's the use of talking to that old fool?" Yuan Simiao curled her lips dismissively. "His goal is just to have the Yuan family marry into a family off the island to save face. Do you think he really cares who exactly gets married?"

"But we should at least tell him in advance," Yuan Che said, a bit troubled. "Otherwise... it doesn't feel right."

"Alright, I get it. Leave this to me." Yuan Simiao straightened up, stretched, and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the pitch-black sea. "Worst case, once you leave the island and get to your husband's place, even if he wants to back out, it'll be too late."

Yuan Che nodded with a vague understanding. After just a few seconds of thought, he decided, as he had countless times before, to trust his sister's words unconditionally.

"If you really end up with him, it'll be even easier for us to stay in touch," Yuan Simiao suddenly leaned in again, a trace of excitement she could barely hide in her voice.

"What?" Yuan Che sat still, not flinching.

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you." Yuan Simiao glanced at him, got up to grab a pen from the desk, and knelt on the mattress. "Give me your arm."

Yuan Che was taken aback for a moment but obediently extended one arm. Yuan Simiao grabbed his wrist without ceremony and quickly wrote a string of numbers on the inside of his forearm in the dark.

"What's this?" Yuan Che endured the tickling sensation of the pen tip.

"My phone number," Yuan Simiao whispered. "Remember, after you get married, have your husband buy you a phone. The first thing you do when you get it is call this number. Got it?"

"You have a phone?!" Yuan Che exclaimed in shock, as if hearing something incredible.

Yuan Simiao immediately covered his mouth: "Do you want to get hit again?! Keep your voice down!"

Yuan Che fell silent at once, but his eyes were wide open, staring at her without blinking.

"Anyway," Yuan Simiao's voice dropped even lower, taking on a commanding tone, "you must call me. Got it?"

Yuan Che nodded, then frowned slightly: "But... what if my husband won't buy me one?"

"He definitely will," Yuan Simiao said without hesitation. "Otherwise, why get married? A husband is someone who goes along with everything you want and indulges you. Whatever you want, just ask directly—he won't refuse you."

She said it so easily, so confidently, as if the world naturally operated by these rules. Yuan Che, who always believed her, was easily convinced.

But if husbands were really that good... why didn't his sister want one herself?

"Since Lin Zaishan is so great, why are you willing to give him to me?" He voiced his doubt anyway.

"Because I don't like him, of course," Yuan Simiao answered lightly. "And I don't want to get married. Not everyone wants good things. Berries are tasty, right? I don't like eating them."

This simple, straightforward analogy made everything click for Yuan Che. As all his doubts vanished, a secret joy quietly welled up within him—good thing his sister didn't like him, otherwise, how would such a good thing have come to him!

He smiled, stretched his arm toward the window, and carefully studied the string of numbers by the moonlight. He knew what phones were—Dad had one, and so did his older brother—but he never imagined his sister secretly owned one too.

In the teachings of the New Source Church, phones were forbidden "unclean objects," seen as ropes connecting to negative energy from the outside world, and only those with "pure energy" could resist their temptation. Yuan Che had been raised this way since childhood. He remembered a tutor named Kelly who was dismissed by his brother the same day she accidentally brought a phone into the estate.

Despite being taught that phones were evil, now that he knew his sister had long been "tainted," Yuan Che's first reaction was a faint sense of envy. He thought that a phone probably represented that unknown, dazzling outside world, and this string of numbers was like a tattoo of that world branded onto his skin.

"1269736..." He couldn't help murmuring it aloud, but was cut off halfway by Yuan Simiao—

"Wait," Yuan Simiao leaned in, grabbed his arm again, and turned on a flashlight with her other hand, shining the beam on the numbers. "Ah, that's what I thought! I made a mistake here!"

With that, she bit the pen cap between her teeth, steadied Yuan Che's arm, and carefully added a "0" after the 9.

"There, that's right." She put the pen back and smiled in satisfaction at his arm, but the smile froze on her face after just a moment. "How did you get this?"

"What?" Yuan Che was confused.

"Here." Yuan Simiao lifted his arm higher and brought it to his eyes. "It's bleeding—didn't you notice?"

Yuan Che lowered his head, squinting to examine the tiny wound on his arm by the flashlight's glow: "It really is... I didn't even notice."

"Did that Lin guy do this to you?" Yuan Simiao's expression suddenly hardened, her tone sharp.

"What?" Yuan Che was taken aback and instinctively pulled his arm back. "You scratched me when you threw the vase today. Did you forget?"

His tone was calm as he spoke, then he looked down to inspect the wound, as if he were used to it. Yuan Simiao stared at him with a blank expression, and after a long pause, she forced out through clenched teeth: "Let me see."

At this, Yuan Che immediately tensed up. He instinctively covered the wound with his other hand and shot a probing look at her. But after a few seconds of hesitation, he slowly offered his arm again.

However, in the next instant, Yuan Simiao's fingers pressed down hard on his wound, and the already-clotted drops of blood oozed out again.

"Ah!" Yuan Che cried out in pain. He tried to pull his arm back, but Yuan Simiao held it tight.

"What did I do wrong this time?!" he growled lowly, his body instinctively struggled, but he didn't dare use real force. He was much taller and stronger than Yuan Simiao and could easily resist, but he didn't want to hit a woman, and more importantly, he didn't want to anger her at this critical moment. His sister was already moody and unpredictable—what if she changed her mind and didn't give him Lin Zaishan?

Just bear with it a little longer, he told himself.

But the expected further torment didn't come. The next second, Yuan Simiao hugged him tightly—a brief but forceful embrace that receded as quickly as a sudden tide, vanishing as if it had never happened.

The flashlight was carelessly tossed onto the mattress, its dim light just enough to illuminate their faces. He looked into Yuan Simiao's eyes by the faint glow and saw her staring back at him with a stubborn look.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she spoke first—

"You idiot, you'd better not forget me."

She said through tears.