The young man nodded indifferently and took big strides up the stairs with his backpack slung over his shoulder.
Uncle Yan watched the tall and straight figure of the young man disappear, his eyes crinkling into fox-like slits with laughter.
Their family’s eldest young master was even more handso than the Third Young Master in his youth, tsk tsk, no wonder so many young girls are enchanted by him. Even an old man like him feels like bowing down at the feet of the Eldest Young Master’s suit pants.
Cough cough, he’s not being inappropriate, just marveling at his eldest young master’s Charm Value.
"Uncle Yan." At that mont, a clear voice rang out. Uncle Yan turned his head and saw a delicate-looking young man with a cello on his back walking in.
The young man was dressed in a white suit, with a very delicate baby face, especially those round and bright eyes that sparkled with spirit, truly making one marvel at such a graceful and handso young fellow.
Uncle Yan’s aged face blossod into a chrysanthemum smile, with wrinkles fanning out, "Oh my, my young master, you’ve returned! How was the performance today, very successful?"
The young man smiled and nodded, "There was a particularly large audience today. To be honest, I was a bit nervous at first, but it went well, as mom was with all the ti. Later, when I went on stage, I wasn’t nervous at all."
At this ti, Zhuang Xiyue and Yan Nanmo entered from outside. Uncle Yan smiled, "Sir, Madam."
The young man looked upstairs, "Did Brother co back?"
Uncle Yan responded with a beaming smile, "Just returned, he’s upstairs now."
Yan Ke imdiately ran upstairs like a bird taking flight, "I’m going to share my joy with Brother."
Zhuang Xiyue shook her head with a smile, "This child is as jumpy as a monkey."
Yan Nanmo raised an eyebrow. At forty, the man still looked like he was just over thirty, handso and graceful with an air of authority that cos from being in a high position for a long ti. Yet, the slightly concealed peach blossom eyes added a unique charm to him, making his Charm Value off the charts.
The woman by his side was dressed in a water-blue embroidered cheongsam, covered with a purple overcoat, her black hair loosely tied back, warm and beautiful, elegant and dignified. Sculpted by ti, she appeared ever more ethereal and gracefully stunning.
"It’s all because you spoil him too much; a doting mother is often the ruin of her son... Hmph."
Zhuang Xiyue gave him a sidelong glance, "Gege is now a Cello Level Sixteen perforr. I am very proud of having such a son. What’s wrong with pampering him a little more?"
"And what about Yan Song? Look at that boy, two years older than the second son, all he knows is to play gas all day. The college entrance exams are approaching, and he doesn’t seem to bother reading a little more..."
Zhuang Xiyue beca even more proud, "Our Ah Song led the basketball club to win the national university league championship last year, and it was even reported on by CCTV Sports Channel. Besides, when did Ah Song not co first in his exams? He even brought back a second-place trophy from the math competition. It’s quite normal for boys to like playing gas, and besides, Ah Song is so handso. He’s now hailed as a national male god by netizens; he’s many tis better than you, Dad. Do you still have the face to talk about him?"
Yan Nanmo couldn’t be bothered to argue with her and turned towards the study.
Uncle Yan then said, "Madam, Sir, the Yun Family has sent an invitation, inviting you to Miss Yun’s eighteenth birthday party."
Yan Nanmo paused in his stride.
Zhuang Xiyue’s face, which had been full of smiles, imdiately turned somber upon hearing Uncle Yan’s words.
"We’re not going." and with that, turned to head upstairs.
Yan Nanmo sighed and looked at Uncle Yan, "Prepare the gift, and have soone deliver it on that day."
Uncle Yan bowed his head respectfully, "Understood."
——
"Bro, I’m back." As Yan Ke opened the door, a book suddenly flew at him, accompanied by the cold voice of a young man.
"Get lost."
Yan Ke quickly dodged to the side, and the book hit the floor with a dull thud.
Bending down to pick up the book, Yan Ke pushed the door open and walked in.
"Bro, who’s annoyed you again, why such a temper?"
When Yan Ke walked in, he saw the young man sitting at his desk, doodling on a sheet of paper. When Yan Ke approached, the young man quickly closed the notebook and stuffed it haphazardly into the drawer.
Discreetly retracting his gaze, Yan Ke chuckled softly, "Seriously, Bro, what’s wrong?"
Yan Song’s eyes narrowed, the atmosphere around him heavy, making it clear that anyone who crossed his path would be unlucky.
"I said to get out."
Yan Ke, as if he hadn’t heard a thing, sat down beside him on a chair, looking around the room.
Surprisingly clean, not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere: white bedsheets and bedcovers, white walls, white desks and bookshelves; everything bathed in white, blindingly so.
His brother had suffered from severe germophobia since childhood, almost to the point of obsession, and he didn’t allow anyone to touch his things. Otherwise, he could fly into a violent rage. As he grew older, his brother’s condition seed to worsen. He never let the servants touch his clothes, sending them to a professional laundry instead. His tableware was kept separate and had to be disinfected after each use. At als, he never touched food that had co into contact with soone else’s chopsticks—among other such quirks, too nurous to list...
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