Chapter 15: He Must Take Responsibility for You

The distinguished young master had barely taken his seat at the dining table before Aunt Rong began to chide him, “Young master, you forgot to dry your hair again. That’s not good for your health!”

Young Master Ao seemed used to such reminders and gave no reply.

Xianyu Zhen obediently took her place at the table, while Su Cha assisted Aunt Rong in serving rice and soup to the two young masters and young lady.

No talking while eating, no chatting before bed—these were the house rules of the Nangong family.

In the past, Nangong Ao rarely ate at the manor, and Nangong Xin, during summer vacation, would often be off traveling, seldom returning home.

Most of the time, only Xianyu Zhen and Madam Nangong would dine together. Every time she sat at the table, watching Madam Nangong eat with such refined grace, Xianyu Zhen felt as if she were attending an etiquette lesson.

Only during breakfast could Xianyu Zhen relax a little, as Madam Nangong always rose and dined early.

This was the first time she was dining at the same table as Young Master Ao, who was notorious for finding fault with her. Xianyu Zhen, therefore, was especially cautious.

Nangong Ao glanced up, noticing that she only picked at the dishes before her. His brows furrowed slightly. “Don’t be picky with your food.”

His sudden admonition startled her, and the piece of food she had just picked up with her chopsticks fell back onto her plate.

Her etiquette teacher had warned her that dropping food after picking it up was a grave breach of manners.

Xianyu Zhen froze, bracing herself for a reprimand from the young master.

But Aunt Rong, standing nearby, chuckled, “It’s the young lady’s first day here. I didn’t know what she likes to eat, so if the dishes aren’t to your taste, please don’t take offense.”

Aunt Rong’s words eased Xianyu Zhen’s embarrassment.

“Not at all, Aunt Rong. Your cooking is wonderful.”

“I’m glad you don’t mind!” Aunt Rong responded with a smile. She approached and, using a separate pair of serving chopsticks, helped Xianyu Zhen to some dishes farther away. “If you need help, just ask me.”

For Aunt Rong to speak so much in the presence of Young Master Ao, and even help Xianyu Zhen to food, was quite contrary to the strict household rules of the Nangong family.

Yet, the ever-exacting Young Master Ao said nothing, simply eating his meal in silence.

This made Xianyu Zhen realize that the rules here were not as rigid as those at the manor; moreover, Aunt Rong clearly held some standing in the Nangong residence.

With Aunt Rong nearby, occasionally helping her with food and offering gentle words of concern, the meal was far less tense and uncomfortable than she’d feared.

After dinner, Nangong Ao immediately went upstairs—he had a video conference to attend.

As usual, Xianyu Zhen went out for a stroll in the garden.

Compared to the manor, the grounds here were smaller and lacked the dense, towering trees—there were mostly flowering shrubs, making the view open and unobstructed. So, Xianyu Zhen didn’t ask Su Cha to accompany her.

After all, she could see the security office just over three hundred meters ahead, and there were plenty of surveillance cameras around; safety was not a concern.

The garden was not large, encircled by two rings of shrubs and flowerbeds. In the center stood a cherry tree with a long, painted wooden bench beneath it, and beside it, an iron double swing.

At her old country home, Xianyu Zhen had a wooden swing in the yard, built by her brother Xianyu Feng with his own hands.

Every summer, it was her favorite place to play and cool off in the evening.

Content, Xianyu Zhen sat on the swing, gently rocking back and forth, her mind drifting to memories of country breezes, the scent of grass, and the cicadas’ summer chorus.

She remembered her brother pushing her on the swing, her laughter ringing out: “Higher, a little higher!”

But since she turned fifteen, there had been no one to push her anymore.

A wave of melancholy swept over her. She unlocked her phone and saw that her last message to her brother was sent three days ago—he still hadn’t replied.

Xianyu Feng had chosen to study medicine at university, hoping one day to cure Xianyu Zhen’s strange illness. When the school offered him a chance to study abroad, he accepted without hesitation.

He had been gone for four years.

In the first year, they managed occasional phone calls and video chats. Later, he was chosen to participate in a psychiatric research project, and his days became a blur of endless work.

For security reasons, he had to surrender his phone and was forbidden from carrying it. Calls were rare, and even when they happened, they lasted only a minute or two.

Ning Wenyen could never understand; had it not been for frequent updates from school officials, she would have suspected her son had been kidnapped or brainwashed abroad.

Every year, Xianyu Feng would promise to return soon. Yet, each time, there was always another project phase to complete.

Xianyu Zhen never blamed her brother for these broken promises; she only worried that he was sacrificing too much of his health, too focused on her illness.

Still, she missed him terribly.

Crack!

The snap of a twig broke her reverie.

She turned her head and saw a familiar figure standing not far behind the swing.

The garden lights were not bright, but she could still make out the silhouette—it was Jiang Mohe, the one Nangong Ao had taken away earlier.

She had regretted not having the chance to thank him before. Who would have thought he’d appear here now?

Xianyu Zhen rose from the swing, her legs tingling from sitting too long, forcing her to stand still and wait for the sensation to pass.

Jiang Mohe walked toward her.

He wasn’t wearing the black security uniform, but a short-sleeved white shirt, casual slacks, and a tie. On his arm was a black armband bearing the Nangong family crest—the mark of a security captain.

He was tall and striking, with handsome features; dressed like this, he looked more like a young heir than a captain of security.

Realizing she was staring, Xianyu Zhen quickly looked away and said softly, “Congratulations on your promotion.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Mohe replied evenly, as though it was nothing to him.

“Thank you,” Xianyu Zhen said again, referring to the night when he’d saved her from the attacker.

If he hadn’t grabbed her in time, if he hadn’t subdued the assailant so swiftly, she would have been in real danger.

“It’s my job,” Jiang Mohe answered simply.

Her friend Doudou always called herself the conversation killer, but now Xianyu Zhen felt the title belonged more to Jiang Mohe.

She had thanked him, the conversation was over, and Xianyu Zhen was left standing awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Jiang Mohe extended his hand to her, palm open. Lying in it was a round pendant of clear blue amber.

Xianyu Zhen recognized it immediately—it was the birthday gift her brother had sent her from abroad for her eighteenth birthday.

She took back the pendant and was about to thank him again when Jiang Mohe turned and walked away.

Xianyu Zhen stood there, clutching the still-warm amber, her face dazed with confusion.

“Young lady, there’s a call for you,” Su Cha called from behind.

“Coming,” Xianyu Zhen replied, heading inside to answer.

It was Madam Nangong, calling from the manor’s landline. Over the phone, she asked, “Zhenzhen, are you settling in well at the residence?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Xianyu Zhen replied.

“Good.” Madam Nangong smiled. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask your big brother. He’s responsible for you now.”