After a series of knocks on the door, Duan Qiang stood with his mother at the Guan family’s doorstep. He swallowed deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, his heart pounding heavily in his chest, and his palms sweating.

His mother shot him an amused glance, as if saying, "Look at you, such a nervous wreck."

Duan Qiang, embarrassed, lowered his head, but his heartbeat grew even more frantic.

The door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Guan greeted them at the entrance.

They craned their necks to look behind Duan Qiang, but when they didn’t see Duan Wei, their faces showed obvious disappointment.

Mrs. Duan said, "I had Ah Wei stay at home to study."

The Guans quickly forced smiles, "Yes, yes, studying is the most important."

The group entered the living room, and Duan Qiang attentively listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen.

Sure enough, after a moment, Guan Ruo came out with a fruit platter.

Her long hair was tied up in a high ponytail, making her neck appear even longer and whiter. She wore a simple old dress with an apron over it, the apron’s ties accentuating her slender waist.

Duan Qiang felt a warm current flowing through his chest.

In his imagination, Guan Ruo’s homey appearance was exactly like this—elegant, neat, and gentle.

"Mom, have some fruit," Guan Ruo said, inviting Mrs. Duan while deliberately avoiding her scrutinizing gaze. However, when facing Duan Qiang, she suddenly felt awkward in front of the elders. She gave a brief nod and hurried back to the kitchen.

Duan Qiang sat there dazed, feeling disoriented.

Since his mother had revealed his feelings a few days ago, he had been restless. There were several mistakes with the shipments, and he had even had some of his wages docked by the team leader.

He often rolled between immense joy and deep disappointment, tormented by fire and ice.

Every day, he woke up thinking about contacting Guan Ruo, but by the time he lay in bed at night, he had done nothing.

He was constantly strung taut by a thread of awareness, knowing he wasn’t worthy of Guan Ruo.

Extreme self-doubt and extreme pride kept him maintaining his dignity and self-respect as a man.

"Miss, Brother Guan, the reason we are here today is to discuss Ah Wei’s situation. After all, he’s called me 'Mom' for twenty years, and we’ve been mother and son for twenty years. It’s not easy for me to get over this hurdle," Mrs. Duan said bluntly.

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Guan responded with genuine sympathy. "I completely understand how you feel. It must be very, very difficult for a mother.

Mr. Guan and I have also discussed it. As long as Ah Wei is willing, he can visit you anytime in the future, and he will definitely support you in your old age."

Mrs. Duan sneered inwardly. "You’re willing to promise anything to get your son back now, aren’t you? But who knows what the future holds? It’s better to be direct and straightforward."

"I can’t expect Ah Wei to support me in my old age, nor have I ever thought that way," Mrs. Duan said with a hint of sarcasm. "I’ve raised Ah Wei for twenty years, and that’s enough."

The Guans exchanged wary glances, sensing from Mrs. Duan’s expression that she had deeper plans.

"I’m here today mainly for one thing," Mrs. Duan said, looking towards the kitchen. "My son, Duan Qiang, is still single, and your daughter doesn’t have a boyfriend either. In my opinion, why not let them be together? Miss, Brother Guan, what do you think?"

The Guans were dumbfounded.

Duan Qiang shouted, "Mom, what are you talking about?"

Mrs. Duan sharply scolded, "Be quiet! You don’t have a say here!"

Duan Qiang turned and saw Guan Ruo standing at the kitchen door, her face pale, her hands hanging at her sides, slightly clenched.

The room fell silent.

In the oppressive silence that followed, everyone immediately understood Mrs. Duan's scheme.

She had raised Duan Wei for twenty years, and he was still alive and healthy, unlike Guan Ge, who was now just a meaningless name.

The Duan family’s debt to the Guan family was impossible to repay, no matter how they tried. But there was one way to balance the scales, to clear all debts—whether monetary or emotional—in one stroke.

That way was to have Guan Ruo become Duan Qiang’s wife, to become her daughter-in-law.

In other words, having Guan Ruo replace Guan Ge to repay the debt of the Guan family.

From the first time Mrs. Duan saw Guan Ruo, this idea had quietly settled in her mind. When she confirmed that Duan Qiang was interested in Guan Ruo, she was overjoyed.

What better way to both make up for the loss of her younger son and help her eldest son fulfill his wish?

Moreover, she knew the Guan family would not refuse.

They had never cared much for Guan Ruo.

More importantly, even if they wanted to refuse, they wouldn’t dare.

Mrs. Duan cleared her throat, breaking the cold silence in the room. "Sister, Brother Guan, a few months ago when you came to my house with the death certificate of my biological son,"

"As a mother, the first thing that came to my mind was to find out the real cause of my son’s death. I wanted to understand what my son, whom I had never met, went through before leaving this world."

The Guan couple exchanged fearful glances, seeing the terror in each other’s faces.

Mrs. Duan’s voice suddenly grew sharp and urgent, cutting like a knife: "You showed me my son’s death certificate, stating that he died of leukemia. True, he had leukemia, but he did not die from it. He committed suicide by jumping from a hospital window!"

The Guans lowered their heads, making no attempt at defense, like criminals awaiting judgment.

Duan Qiang was deeply shocked by this cruel truth. He stared wide-eyed, standing still for a while, before slowly and mechanically turning his gaze towards Guan Ruo.

Guan Ruo remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the ground, her expression resigned as if she had already been sentenced and had given up any struggle.

Mrs. Duan’s voice softened, taking on a cold, factual tone: "You’re afraid I’ll pursue this, afraid it will be hard to explain later, so you had someone cover it up and falsify the death certificate for my son. Guan Ruo—"

She looked at Guan Ruo. "You’re educated; tell me, if this were reported, what would be the legal consequence for falsifying a death certificate? At the very least, it should be detention, right? And look at your father’s age…"

"I understand what you’re saying," Guan Ruo stepped forward, looking coldly at Mrs. Duan. "You don’t need to say more. I will give you an answer."

At half-past ten in the evening, Duan Qiang finished work and walked towards the van, pulling out his car keys.

"Duan Qiang, I need to talk to you," Guan Ruo said, emerging from the shadows nearby.

Duan Qiang’s back stiffened.

In recent days, Guan Ruo had been messaging him daily, asking to meet, but he had not responded.

Guan Ge’s death by suicide had never been mentioned by Guan Ruo.

The truth about Guan Ge’s death and Guan Ruo’s deliberate concealment of it clashed violently in his mind.

On one side was his younger brother, and on the other was the woman he loved. He was tortured by intense conflicting emotions, as if he had lost all sense.

"Why haven’t you replied to my messages?" Guan Ruo asked, taking a few steps forward and standing behind him, the night breeze carrying her faint fragrance to his nose.

Duan Qiang’s heart could not remain completely cold. After a moment of silence, he softly asked, "Why did you hide this from me?"

"If you want to know why, give me half an hour, and I’ll explain," Guan Ruo replied.

Duan Qiang fumbled with the car keys, indecisive. Guan Ruo’s slender, cool hand touched his warm arm, and she said gently, "Come to my place."

Duan Qiang turned abruptly and looked at Guan Ruo.

Guan Ruo pinched his arm lightly. "Let’s go. You know where I live."

When they finally stood in the small living room of Guan Ruo’s home, facing the wall of books, Duan Qiang’s head was still buzzing.

He couldn’t even comprehend what mindset he had when he followed Guan Ruo home.

Anticipation, resistance, confusion, and bewilderment… None of these words could precisely capture his current feelings.

Guan Ruo emerged with a six-pack of beer. She pointed to the area near the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Xiao Ge used to sit there often."

Duan Qiang looked at the empty cushion, hesitated for a moment, and then walked over and sat down.

Guan Ruo poured beer into the cup in front of Duan Qiang, then finished a can of beer in one go.

A cold burp echoed in her throat, finally breaking free, and it sounded like a sigh.

Duan Qiang stared at her in astonishment. "Drink slowly…"

Guan Ruo ignored his concern and forced a bitter smile. "After Xiao Ge passed away, my relationship with my parents became very strained. I still can’t forgive them."

Duan Qiang tensed up, listening to her words.

Although reluctant, the Guan family had not given up on Xiao Ge’s treatment. After twenty years together, there was still some emotional connection.

But as the treatment costs gradually rose and a suitable bone marrow match was delayed, and with no one to help share the heavy burden, cracks began to appear between the couple.

They frequently argued about money and whether to continue the treatment, even fighting verbally in Xiao Ge’s hospital room.

Soon, Xiao Ge noticed his parents' anger and estrangement.

He had been very sensitive after falling ill, feeling like he was a great burden to his family. From their arguments, he vaguely guessed his own background.

He became increasingly silent, often staring blankly at the ceiling. Guan Ruo had always thought it was a reaction to the medication.

The last time, Guan Ruo’s parents, as usual, briefly greeted her before disappearing.

Guan Ruo continued to juggle between work and the hospital.

One day, Xiao Ge suddenly asked for chicken soup. Guan Ruo took a half-day off, chose a free-range chicken at the market, and made soup while working from home.

When she was ladling the soup, she was distracted by work and spilled it, burning her arm, which turned red.

Guan Ruo applied ointment, and when she went to the hospital, she deliberately wore a long-sleeve T-shirt, but Xiao Ge still noticed.

"Sis, I’m causing you trouble," the emaciated Xiao Ge said weakly with a smile.

Guan Ruo teased him, "You’re getting more pretentious with your words."

Xiao Ge looked at the burn. "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, it’s nothing. Just clumsy," Guan Ruo said quickly, pulling down her sleeve to cover the burn.

She scooped a spoonful of soup, blew on it to cool it, and brought it to Xiao Ge’s lips.

Xiao Ge drank the soup obediently, looking at his sister with satisfaction. Suddenly, he asked, "Sis, are Mom and Dad out looking for their biological child?"

Guan Ruo’s hand shook, spilling some of the soup. She quickly adjusted her expression and gently patted Xiao Ge’s head. "Don’t talk nonsense."

She again offered the spoonful of soup to Xiao Ge, "Here, drink up."

But her eyes avoided his penetrating gaze.

Xiao Ge smiled and finished the whole bowl of soup as instructed.

Later, Guan Ruo reflected that her reaction must have confirmed Xiao Ge’s suspicion.

She pretended to be calm but had offered no explanation for Xiao Ge’s question.

This meant that Xiao Ge knew he had guessed correctly.

That night, Guan Ruo was so exhausted that she slept heavily on the rented chair in the hospital room until she was abruptly awakened by the hospital's noise in the middle of the night.

Guan Ge had jumped from the building.

"This is how it happened," Guan Ruo said, wiping her tears and sobbing quietly.

Duan Qiang got up and stood on the balcony, smoking furiously.

His chest was swelling with fierce sorrow, suffocating him and making it hard for him to breathe.

He knew that Guan Ge must have made this decision after learning the truth about his origins, unwilling to burden the Guan family or his beloved sister any longer.

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

Duan Qiang flinched and turned around in panic. Guan Ruo’s moist lips were already pressed against his, kissing him. She wrapped her arms from his waist around his neck, standing on tiptoe and hugging his head with a sense of self-destructive despair.

Duan Qiang’s mother had been very clear about her position. Did Guan Ruo still have a choice? Could she watch her father be detained or even imprisoned?

Like fireworks soaring into the daylight sun, Duan Qiang’s mind went blank with dazzling emptiness, but his body was burning with intense heat.

Instinctively, he responded passionately, holding her soft body tightly. The two of them swayed and retreated into the room.

Until Duan Qiang stepped on an empty beer can, causing him to stumble, and they both fell onto the sofa.

In that moment, consciousness abruptly returned to him.

He sprang up, stumbling back until the back of his head hit the wall with a thud.

Pressing his entire back against the hard wall, he forced himself to wake up through the pain of the pressure.

"Guan Ruo, what are you doing?" he finally managed to say.

Guan Ruo smiled—a heartbreaking, sorrowful smile. Then she walked towards him, looking at him fervently. "Duan Qiang, even though this is a transaction, I am willing. Really, you are a good person..."

Her lips moved closer again.

Duan Qiang cradled Guan Ruo's head with both hands. Her small head was encircled in his large hands, like a pitiful walnut.

"Guan Ruo, look at me," Duan Qiang forced her to meet his gaze.

Guan Ruo’s teary eyes fixed on Duan Qiang.

"I like you," Duan Qiang gasped as if his throat was being squeezed, speaking with immense difficulty. "I like you, very, very much, but I can’t..."

"Can’t what?"

"You’ll regret it."

"I won’t."

"Even if you won’t, it’s still not right." Duan Qiang suddenly roared with agitation. "You’re a person, not something to be used as a trade. This is so unfair to you!"

Tears streamed down Guan Ruo’s face.

She wasn’t crying over her own grievances; she was crying because there was someone in this world who truly cared about her, someone who cared whether she was treated fairly.