Chapter 4

"Lily!"

Ethan stood at the bathroom door, fists clenched: "You're angry at me—why hurt someone else?"

I panicked, finally understanding I'd been set up by Morgan.

"Ethan, is this who I am in your eyes?"

Being wrongly accused by others, I felt nothing. Being misunderstood by him, my heart felt like it was being cut.

Yet I didn't even have the right to blame him.

I walked past him. He grabbed my wrist: "Illness isn't an excuse for immunity. Apologize to Morgan."

His grip was strong. I couldn't break free, my heart covered in grievance: "She slandered me. Why do you only believe her and not me?"

"Whether it's slander, you know in your heart!" Ethan's voice was warm with anger. "Besides me, no one will indulge you!"

He turned his head. On his fair neck remained the scratches from our previous argument, confirming the evidence that I liked to scratch people.

Reminding me of the past life's Ethan, who would always hold me tightly during my episodes, constantly apologizing, saying he hadn't taken good care of me.

Yet I would frantically drag my sharp nails across his face, again and again.

Outsiders all laughed that Professor Wilson was henpecked, married to a fierce wife.

But he never spoke a bad word about me to outsiders.

"I won't apologize."

I could apologize to Ethan, even kneel and kowtow. But I wouldn't apologize to Morgan.

Ethan gritted his teeth: "Fine, you asked for this."

He restrained both my hands behind my back: "Morgan, however many times she hit you, you pay back tenfold."

Boom!

Prolonged ringing made my consciousness hazy. I looked at the boy before me in shock. His expression was serious, not joking at all.

Until Morgan's slaps fell like sudden rain.

One, two...

"Ah!"

The burning pain on my face and the humiliation of being slapped left me breathless.

Morgan hit even harder. After ten slaps, Ethan didn't give me another glance. He tenderly took Morgan's hand: "Does your hand hurt?"

Morgan smiled and linked arms with him: "It doesn't hurt."

"That's good."

I stood there for a long time before forcing my injured mouth into a smile: Ethan, you didn't need to restrain me.

Because I wouldn't have fought back.

After school that day, Ethan and I went home separately.

Uncle Wilson anxiously watched at the door. Seeing me finally return with injuries on my face, he criticized Ethan: "What dinner? You didn't even notice your sister was being bullied?"

Aunt Wilson asked with concern: "Lily, did you fight with your brother? Why haven't you been coming home together these past few days? Is someone bullying you at school?"

Ethan said coldly: "She had an episode and hit herself. She's so fierce—who would dare bully her?"

"Kneel down!" Uncle Wilson was furious. "I told you to take good care of your sister. Is this how you take care of her?"

Ethan threw down his chopsticks and walked to the living room to kneel: "She doesn't need me. Stop being presumptuous!"

He rarely defied his elders like this. It made Uncle Wilson raise his hand to slap him. I spoke up to stop him: "Brother's right. I hit myself. I'm tired and want to go upstairs to rest."

Hearing this, Ethan's bowed head lifted, his gaze complex as he looked at me.

Aunt Wilson sighed: "Ethan, you know Lily's condition. When there are conflicts, you need to accommodate her more."

"Haven't I accommodated her enough? Can't she feel sorry for me even once?"

Uncle Wilson said helplessly: "Stubborn boy! If you don't treasure your time with Lily now, you'll regret it eventually! Do you know she'll soon..."

"Uncle Wilson!"

I stood at the stairs, interrupting him.

Uncle Wilson held it in uncomfortably, but ultimately didn't tell Ethan I was leaving.

But how smart was Ethan?

That night, he came into my bedroom carrying hot milk.

This had been his habit for ten years—heating me a cup of milk before bed.

But since we started our cold war, I hadn't drunk hot milk.

"Lily, you're hiding something from me."

A declarative sentence.

My tone was stiff as I turned away: "No."

He turned my face back, leaning close: "How long are you going to keep this up with me? You think I felt good treating you like that today?"

His intimate breath brushed my face. I blushed and dodged: "I need to sleep."

Ethan's throat moved. After looking around, his gaze landed precisely on a suitcase.

He walked over. I panicked—inside that suitcase were all my documents for going abroad!

I grabbed his hand.

Ethan's face darkened as he met my eyes: "Move."

I knew if he was determined to look, I couldn't stop him.

Fortunately, Morgan's voice came from downstairs: "Ethan! Ethan!"

Without thinking, he turned and left.