"What? Cheating on exams? Skipping class? Talking back to the teacher?"
In the private school called Hall of Bright Virtue, Jiang Chen was both shocked and furious.
He had been on edge since yesterday, when An'an said her teacher wanted to see the grown-up in charge of her. His mind had jumped straight to Fang Zesheng's threat. If the Fang clan pulled strings — got An'an expelled from school, for instance — he had no real defense.
He had even braced himself to hire a private tutor out of his own pocket.
But he had never imagined the real reason: Jiang An'an had actually been misbehaving.
Jiang Chen felt a vast absurdity. Teachers punished students — rapped palms, made them stand, made them copy texts — and it was unheard of for a teacher to be helpless. Look at him: even as an inner-academy disciple, he was still copying scriptures under Xiao Ironface's glare. How bad, how unruly, did a student have to be before the teacher called in the parents?
"Take a look." The old teacher of the Hall of Bright Virtue tossed a stack of notebooks across. "I made her copy the Thousand Character Classic. Look at what she copied."
Jiang Chen took them in both hands and was about to say, looks fine to me, that's the Thousand Character Classic, all right. Then he caught on. The content was correct, but the handwriting — there were seven or eight different hands in it.
An'an had cheated even on her punishment copying.
Jiang Chen wanted to cover his eyes. He had copied the Dao canon a hundred times under Xiao Ironface and never once thought of asking for help; he'd done every character himself, one by one, through night after sleepless night!
Why was Jiang An'an's mind so... creative?
"She cheated on exams too?" Jiang Chen's voice trembled.
"She wrote answers for another student in the quiz, and I caught her red-handed." The old teacher's voice shot up: "And she fails her own exams! With what right!"
Jiang An'an stood off to the side, head hanging, the picture of a punished child — except her big eyes kept sneaking glances at her brother's face. Every time he looked her way, she snapped her gaze elsewhere.
In the room was another little girl, sprawled carelessly in a chair, playing with her fingers. Presumably the classmate An'an had helped cheat. Her attitude was insufferable.
She was a pretty thing — skin like cream, delicate features, clearly a beauty in the making. The only flaw was that little nose stuck so high in the air, too proud by half. Everything she wore was worth a fortune. A proper little demon.
Then again — what serious student would ask a girl who failed her own exams to help her cheat?
Jiang Chen told himself to stay calm. His sister was shy, quiet, obedient, adorable. There had to be a misunderstanding... Misunderstanding, nothing! The evidence was right in his hands!
Jiang Chen grabbed An'an and marched out. "We're going home!"
An elder brother was a father's shadow, and an untaught child was the father's fault. Today he would show some parental authority. How had the timid little girl of a few months ago turned into this? He would give her a proper spanking — ten raps on the palm, at least. Beating her at school would be shameful, so he'd take her home to do it.
Well... three raps, then. Three was plenty hard. She'd feel it for days.
Behind them, the little demon hopped up and waved: "Bye, An'an!"
Jiang An'an was being pulled along by one hand, and had long sensed the danger. She had been meek and quiet the whole way. At her friend's call, her free hand timidly began to rise to wave back—
Jiang Chen yanked her arm down, cutting off the farewell.
* * *
A few steps from the Hall of Bright Virtue, heading south along Xuanwu Street, you passed Cai's Mutton Shop.
When the mutton smell hit her nose, Jiang An'an coughed on purpose. In the old days, a look — even a sniff — was enough to make her brother stop and take her in.
Today Jiang Chen walked past without even glancing.
An'an understood. Her brother was really angry.
They turned left onto Greenwood Avenue, followed it east to the end, and came to Flying Horse Lane. Their home was there.
"Brother..." An'an said.
Jiang Chen said nothing.
"Brother..." An'an gave his hand a little shake.
Jiang Chen let out a hum through his nose, signaling his icy resolve.
They reached the door. An'an said eagerly: "Brother, let me open it! I brought the key!"
Jiang Chen unlocked it himself, pushed open the gate, let go of An'an's hand, and made his voice deliberately cold: "Inside."
He couldn't let her think this would blow over easily. A four- or five-year-old was just forming her character. She needed a lesson.
An'an's little hand brushed against his, found he truly meant to let go, and drooped in defeat. But then she remembered something, perked up, and ran ahead.
Jiang Chen followed into the bedroom, where An'an made a beeline for her little bed.
He was about to shout her down. An'an's usual trick, when she didn't want to do something, was to flop on the bed and cry "Oh, I'm so sleepy, I'm asleep!" — and it always worked.
But An'an suddenly crouched, and her small body squirmed under the bed.
Think hiding under the bed will save you? Jiang Chen almost laughed despite himself. He grabbed the broom from the door and planted himself in front of her bed.
An'an wriggled back out quickly, clutching a small wooden box, face dusted gray from the crawl.
She raised the old box with both hands, delighted: "This is for you!"
Jiang Chen leaned the broom against the cabinet, took the box with suspicion. "What's this?"
He opened it. Inside, stacked neatly: white silver, red gold, pearls. A gleam of treasure.
Jiang Chen's heart clenched. He held the box in one hand, and his voice was harder than it had ever been: "Where did this come from?"
Jiang An'an had never seen that look on her brother's face. She panicked, pouted, and wailed: "I... I earned it!"
"Earned it?" His hands shook. "Where? How?"
He hurled the box to the floor with a crash. "Speak!"
Gold light, silver light, pearl light scattered everywhere.
An'an was terrified and burst into tears: "Helping classmates with their exams..."
"Helping with exams earns this much?"
An'an sobbed: "Qingzhi... Qingzhi is rich. I helped her, so she paid me."
Jiang Chen felt the great weight in his chest slowly settle. Then came the regret — he had been too harsh.
He crouched down and gripped An'an's small shoulders. She was like a delicate piece of porcelain; the slightest carelessness might shatter her.
"When did this family need you to earn money?" He looked at her, wiping her tears. "Brother has money. Lots of it. Understand?"
An'an blubbered: "You borrowed money from that pale-faced boy to buy the house! Borrowed money has to be paid back..."
Jiang Chen suddenly remembered. That day he went to Zhao Yan for silver and a house, he had carried An'an along.
Poor little An'an. Her little box, her heart held out with such care — when it hit the floor, how much had it hurt her?
He looked at her, tears streaming down her gray-dusted face, washing out the snow-pale skin beneath.
Jiang Chen's nose stung.
His heart went soft, then shattered into pieces.