Even Qi Jin’s eyes widened, and she suddenly stepped back a pace.
She covered her mouth, staring at Qi Yuan in disbelief: “He’s your own brother! How can you still go so far as to harm him?!”
…
Qi Yuan gave her a complicated look, then raised an eyebrow, counting the holes in Qi Yunting’s body. She clicked her tongue with a half-smile and said: “He was your brother when things went wrong, but when you used him as a weapon, was he your brother, huh?”
What brother?
Pah!
What did I do wrong in my past life?!
I suffered endless hardship, thinking being acknowledged by the Marquis Manor meant I was finally through the worst — thinking I’d have family to rely on.
But what did I get instead?!
Qi Yunting’s constant insults — “scoundrel,” “b*stard.”
Qi Yunting’s slaps.
Madam Wang’s coldness, distance, and suspicion.
Every day, they showed me with their actions that I was unworthy and unwelcome.
Until Qi Jin clearly fell herself but accused me of pushing her down, and Qi Yunting even broke her leg.
The pain of that broken leg stayed with me forever.
How I begged Qi Yunting to believe me—that humiliation and disgrace remain vivid.
Some wounds aren’t erased even across past and present lives.
Besides, didn’t Qi Yunting and Qi Jin want me to lose my leg?
In other words, if today their poisoning succeeded and I lost the ability to protect myself, I’d suffer the same fate again—having my leg broken by these two.
In this world, only evil thrives; good people can only say, “I’m sorry, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have…”
If that’s the case, then I refuse to accept it!
Qi Yunting seemed provoked, bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely at Qi Yuan: “I won’t let you go, scoundrel! Scoundrel! I will kill you—I will make sure you die a miserable death!”
Qi Yuan clicked her tongue: “Looks like it still doesn’t hurt enough. My fault, letting you have strength to speak.”
She grabbed a chair nearby and smashed it down hard.
The chair shattered, and she picked up a chair leg, slamming it forcefully onto Qi Yunting’s uninjured leg.
A cracking sound rang out—whether the chair leg broke or Qi Yunting’s bone shattered was unclear—followed by his agonized scream.
The terrible noise made everyone’s scalp tingle.
Qi Yunting was drenched in sweat, overwhelmed by pain, unable to curse, eyes rolling back as he fainted.
Qi Yuan leisurely wiped her hands and turned to calmly look at Qi Jin, who was retreating on all fours: “Your turn, little sister.”
Qi Jin thought of the moment she believed she had won and still called Qi Yuan “sister.” Her temples throbbed painfully, and a heavy stone seemed to press on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
People can’t teach people.
But things can teach people—just once.
She grit her teeth and glared at Qi Yuan: “You—don’t get cocky! Qi Yunting is the future shizi of the Marquis Manor. You don’t know how much the old Marquis and Marchioness favor him! And Qi Zhen and the Wang family—they won’t let you off!”
Qi Yuan responded expressionlessly with a casual “Oh,” not taking her seriously: “I don’t think so. The facts are clear. I’m not the one causing trouble; you started it, you scoundrels. I told you many times I’m not someone who just quietly accepts injustice. Why won’t you listen?”
When pushed to the brink, people find infinite courage.
If retreat means death, better to fight.
Qi Jin stared fiercely at Qi Yuan approaching step by step, clutching tightly the hairpin she had snatched earlier from her sleeve.
As Qi Yuan got close, Qi Jin suddenly jumped up, aiming the hairpin at Qi Yuan’s neck.
But Qi Yuan didn’t give her the chance.
Sensing it, Qi Yuan straightened her leg and kicked hard into Qi Jin’s lower abdomen, sending her flying.
Qi Jin crashed into the wall, back burning with sharp pain.
Under the assault, she coughed up blood and uncontrollably convulsed and vomited.
Qi Yuan squatted, pried open her palm, and took out the golden hairpin, shaking it in front of her: “Look at you—completely useless. I at least learned how to slaughter pigs from your own father. Don’t underestimate pig slaughtering—it takes strength and skill to kill with one cut, not wasting blood, and to sort the parts neatly. I worked hard on that.”
That’s why in her past life as a guard, she was so effective.
There was no hardship she couldn’t endure.
She lived in darkness, never considered herself human, so she had no fallback.
Those without fallback always put in more effort than others.
Qi Jin couldn’t speak anymore. Her stomach churned and all her strength uncontrollably drained.
By now, she knew she had no chance.
But she still wanted to disgust Qi Yuan, forcing out a weak taunt: “You think killing me will make you better? Your own mother will never let you go!”
Qi Yuan smiled lightly.
When a knock sounded at the door, she smiled and opened it: “Grandfather, Grandmother, you’re here?”
…
Qi Jin’s eyes widened in shock.
She couldn’t believe the old Marquis and Marchioness had arrived!
Her lips trembled violently, coughing harshly as if about to cough up her lungs, tears streaming down her face.
Had Qi Yuan gone mad?!
She knew the Old Marquis and Old Marchioness were outside, yet dared to attack Qi Yunting so fiercely?!
The old Marquis and Marchioness looked grave.
They had heard everything clearly.
Qi Yunting had thought he tricked Qi Yuan into leaving, but didn’t know she never believed his lies and had told everything to them.
Their presence here today was arranged by Qi Yuan.
They had agreed beforehand not to intervene no matter what happened.
The room was soaked in blood with a strong metallic smell.
Qi Yunting lay by the broken chair, his body like a porcupine pierced by darts, life hanging in the balance.
After all, he was their blood grandson, raised from childhood.
Though he was a scoundrel and useless, the old Marquis and Marchioness never wished to see him end like this.
The Marchioness hurried over and knelt by Qi Yunting to check his condition.
Qi Jin suddenly felt a flicker of hope, taunting Qi Yuan with a curled lip.
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