Jiang Yue woke up to the sound of somebody laughing too loudly in his living room, which was a clear sign that the universe had remembered he existed and had decided to punish him personally.
For a second, he lay still and tried to pretend the noise was coming from a different apartment. A neighbor's place. A TV show. A nightmare. Anything except the reality that today was his mother's wedding day and the entire extended family had apparently decided that the best way to celebrate was to invade his home at dawn like a coordinated military operation.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The ceiling stared back, blank and unimpressed, which honestly felt like the only reasonable reaction to the situation.
Outside his door, someone shouted, "Where's the hot water? Why is the water in this house always like this?"
Jiang Yue closed his eyes.
He could tell them exactly where the hot water was. It was in the same place it had been yesterday, and the day before, and every day for the last eighteen years: inside the pipe system that worked perfectly fine when nobody treated his home like a public restroom.
But that would require getting up.
He listened again. There were at least three different voices. One belonged to his aunt, the one who always smelled like expensive perfume and judgment. Another voice was a cousin he hadn't seen in months, loud enough to shake the furniture. The third was unfamiliar, which was worse, because it meant someone had brought a plus-one.
Because nothing said "intimate family event" like inviting strangers to wander around his house and comment on the water pressure.
Jiang Yue dragged himself out of bed and shuffled toward his door, then stopped. He looked down at his phone on the nightstand. The time read 6:47 a.m.
6:47.
His mother was getting married at noon. Which meant there were still five hours and thirteen minutes left for his relatives to find new ways to humiliate him, criticize his mother, and rearrange the furniture like they were staging a crime scene.
He picked up his phone and opened his messages. Xu Zhe had sent him a single line at 1:12 a.m.
You alive tomorrow? If you need an escape plan, I got you.
Jiang Yue stared at it for a moment and felt something in his chest twist in a way that was not unpleasant, which annoyed him.
He typed back.
I'll survive. If I don't, delete my search history.
Then he added, after a second of consideration:
Actually don't. Let my enemies suffer.
He hit send and shoved the phone into his pocket like the conversation hadn't made him feel slightly less alone.
He opened his bedroom door.
The hallway was already crowded with evidence of the invasion. Shoes lined the wall in a messy row. Someone had put a cardboard box of bottled drinks right outside the bathroom as if the bathroom were a convenience store. The air smelled like hair spray, steamed buns, and the kind of perfume that could knock out a small animal.
Jiang Yue stepped over a plastic bag of fruit and headed toward the bathroom.
Aunt Lin's voice floated from the living room, sharp and cheerful in the way that meant she was about to say something cruel.
"I told you, marrying again is fine, but why choose a man with a son that old? And they're both seniors this year, right? Studying is already stressful. Now they have to live together—aiya, what a mess."
Someone else laughed.
Another voice said, "Maybe it's good. Two boys in the house, keeps each other in check."
Aunt Lin replied, "Keeps each other in check? You think boys are disciplined? Two boys together, either they fight or they learn bad habits. Especially Jiang Yue, he's always been… lively."
Lively.
That was what adults said when they wanted to call you a problem without admitting they were calling you a problem.
Jiang Yue kept walking like he hadn't heard. His face stayed blank because if he reacted, even in his own hallway, he would be feeding them. Like stray cats. Like gossip gremlins.
He reached the bathroom door and turned the knob.
Locked.
He knocked once, hard.
"Who's in there?" he asked, voice flat.
His cousin's voice answered, "Me! Wait!"
Jiang Yue exhaled through his nose and leaned his forehead against the door for half a second, letting the irritation roll through him like a wave.
Then he stepped back and waited, because apparently today was "Wait for everyone else to finish using your life" day.
Behind him, the living room voices continued.
Aunt Lin said, "And the groom's family is… how do I say… very proper. Very respectable. The father is an executive, right? Their son must be very serious. Top student type. That kind doesn't mix well with Jiang Yue."
Someone responded, "Maybe it'll balance him."
Aunt Lin made a noise. "Balance? Aiya, I just hope the new brother doesn't bully him. Those quiet ones are the most terrifying. They smile and then they ruin your life."
Jiang Yue almost laughed.
First of all, he didn't need anyone to ruin his life. His life was doing a perfectly fine job ruining itself.
Second, the idea that someone was going to bully him in his own home was… ridiculous.
He was Jiang Yue. He had survived eighteen years of being told he was too loud, too impulsive, too much. He had survived teachers who hated him, classmates who feared him, and relatives who treated him like a cautionary tale.
If anyone tried to bully him, he would bite.
The bathroom door opened.
His cousin came out, face damp, holding a towel like a flag of surrender.
"Your turn," she said, then glanced at him and lowered her voice. "Don't be like that today. It's Auntie's big day."
Jiang Yue stared at her.
"What do you mean, don't be like that," he asked.
She avoided his eyes and scurried away.
Perfect. Even his own cousin had delivered him a warning label before 7 a.m.
He went into the bathroom and shut the door.
The mirror reflected a person who looked like he'd been dragged through a dream and left to dry. His hair was a mess. His eyes were slightly puffy from not sleeping enough. His expression was the same one he always had when the world demanded he behave: the blank face of someone trying very hard not to commit a felony.
He turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face.
Cold water helped. It didn't fix anything, but it helped.
He brushed his teeth while listening to the muffled sounds outside: people moving, laughter, the clink of dishes.
This was what his home sounded like now. Not quiet, not safe, not his.
He rinsed, wiped his mouth, and stared at himself again.
Today, his mother was becoming someone's wife.
And he was becoming someone's son.
And somewhere out there, apparently, there was a boy his age who was about to become his stepbrother.
The word stepbrother sat in his head like a pebble in a shoe. Small, annoying, impossible to ignore.
He left the bathroom and walked into the living room.
The living room looked like a staging area. Chairs had been moved. A table had been covered with food. There were red decorations—paper cutouts, ribbons—taped to places that did not need to be taped. Aunt Lin was perched on the sofa like she owned it. Two other relatives were standing near the window discussing something in low voices.
Everyone looked at him at once.
Their eyes did that thing adult eyes did, scanning him for signs of compliance or trouble.
Jiang Yue smiled, because he was a polite young man, clearly. "Good morning," he said.
Aunt Lin smiled back with her full face. "Oh, you're awake. Go eat something. You look pale."
"I'm always pale," Jiang Yue replied. "It's my natural beauty."
His cousin snorted and tried to hide it.
Aunt Lin's smile tightened. "Today is a big day. Don't joke too much."
Jiang Yue walked toward the kitchen. "I won't," he said.
He did not clarify that he wasn't joking. His life was comedy and tragedy at the same time. It depended on who was watching.
In the kitchen, his mother was standing over the counter, wearing a simple robe, hair half pinned up. Her face was bare, but her eyes were bright. She looked nervous and excited and tired all at once.
When she saw him, her expression softened instantly. "Yueyue," she said, voice gentle. "You're up."
Jiang Yue hated that nickname. He also loved it. It made him feel like he was still hers.
He leaned against the doorframe. "I've been up. I've been listening to Aunt Lin conduct a live broadcast of my flaws."
His mother's lips twitched, a laugh she tried to swallow. "Don't take it seriously. She talks too much."
"She's a professional," Jiang Yue said. "She should get paid."
His mother reached for a small bowl and handed it to him. "Eat some congee. Your stomach always acts up when you're stressed."
"I'm not stressed," Jiang Yue said automatically.
His mother gave him a look.
He took the bowl.
The congee was warm, bland, comforting in a way that made his throat tighten. He hated that too.
He took a spoonful, then another.
His mother watched him for a moment, then said quietly, "I know today is… a lot."
Jiang Yue kept his eyes on the bowl. "It's fine."
It wasn't fine. But "fine" was the only word he had that didn't open a hole in him.
His mother reached out and adjusted his hair, smoothing a messy strand down. "Thank you," she said softly. "For trying."
Jiang Yue looked up at her.
She was smiling, but her eyes were wet at the corners like she'd been crying earlier. Not from sadness. From nerves, from happiness, from the weight of starting over at forty.
He swallowed.
"Are you happy," he asked.
His mother's smile widened, and for a moment she looked younger. "Yes," she said.
Jiang Yue nodded once, sharp like it hurt.
"Then that's all that matters," he said.
His mother exhaled, relief passing through her face like a breeze. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "You're a good boy."
Jiang Yue almost laughed.
If he were a good boy, he wouldn't have spent last week picking fights at school to burn off anger he couldn't name. If he were a good boy, he wouldn't be imagining ways to escape his own home like a fugitive.
But his mother believed in him, and that was dangerous. It made him want to live up to it.
He stared down at his congee.
"What's he like," he asked, like he was asking about the weather.
His mother blinked. "Who?"
Jiang Yue lifted his eyes. "Your groom. And his son. The new… people."
His mother's expression softened again. "Chengyu is kind," she said. "He's steady. He takes care of things. You'll see. He's not like your—"
She stopped herself.
Jiang Yue's jaw tightened. He scooped another spoonful of congee and swallowed it too fast.
His mother continued, careful. "And Nianzhan… he's very polite. Very responsible. He's been helping his father a lot. He studies hard."
Jiang Yue stared at her. "So he's annoying."
His mother flicked his forehead lightly. "Don't start."
"I'm not starting," Jiang Yue said. "I'm finishing. I'm finishing before it even begins."
His mother sighed. "Yueyue."
Jiang Yue leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Mom. Just tell me one thing. Is he… weird?"
His mother frowned. "Weird how?"
"Like… does he look at people like he's calculating their funeral costs," Jiang Yue said. "Does he smile like he's practicing. Does he—"
His mother interrupted, exasperated but amused. "No. He's normal."
Jiang Yue nodded slowly. "That's suspicious."
His mother laughed then, a real laugh that made her shoulders relax. "You're impossible."
Jiang Yue smiled back, because making her laugh felt like the only thing he could still do right.
From the living room, Aunt Lin called, "Xueqing! The makeup artist is here!"
His mother straightened like she'd been summoned. She reached over and pinched Jiang Yue's cheek gently. "Finish eating. Then go get dressed. Your suit is in your room."
Jiang Yue made a face. "Suit."
"Today," his mother said firmly, "you will wear a suit and you will smile."
Jiang Yue saluted with his spoon. "Yes, commander."
His mother shook her head, still smiling, and left the kitchen.
Jiang Yue sat alone at the counter for a moment, listening to the house buzz like a beehive. He ate his congee slowly, even though he wasn't hungry, because his mother had asked him to.
Because this was her day.
And because no matter how angry he was, he didn't want to be the reason she looked back and regretted it.
He put the bowl in the sink and went to his room.
His suit hung on the wardrobe door like a threat. Black, tailored, expensive enough that he felt like it would bite him if he moved wrong.
He changed into it with the kind of resentment usually reserved for paying taxes.
The shirt collar felt tight around his neck. The pants felt too formal, like they belonged to someone who knew what he was doing with his life.
He stared at himself in the mirror.
He looked… good. Which was, honestly, offensive. He didn't want to look like someone who fit into this story.
He ran a hand through his hair, tried to make it behave, failed, and gave up. If the universe wanted him to look neat today, it should've provided a different head.
His phone buzzed again.
Xu Zhe: I'm outside your building. Delivering emergency sugar. You want?
Jiang Yue smiled despite himself.
He typed back: If you're not carrying a ladder and a helicopter, you're not helping.
Then: Come up. But don't talk to my relatives. They'll adopt you.
A minute later, there was a knock at his door. Jiang Yue opened it to find Xu Zhe leaning against the hallway wall like he belonged there, wearing a hoodie like it was any other day. He held up a plastic bag.
"Brought you milk tea," Xu Zhe announced. "And emotional support snacks."
Jiang Yue stared at him. "You're going to get me murdered. There are elders out there."
Xu Zhe grinned. "Let them judge me. I thrive under oppression."
Jiang Yue stepped aside and let him in. "If you get lectured, don't look at me like it's my fault."
Xu Zhe walked into the room and froze when he saw Jiang Yue in the suit. His eyebrows climbed.
"Wow," Xu Zhe said slowly. "You look like you're about to get married."
Jiang Yue's expression turned murderous. "Say that again and I'll throw you off the balcony."
Xu Zhe laughed and tossed the bag onto the bed. "Okay, okay. But seriously. This is insane. Your mom's actually doing it."
Jiang Yue sat on the edge of the bed, took the milk tea, stabbed the straw in like it was an enemy, and drank.
Sugar hit his system like mercy.
He exhaled.
Xu Zhe sat beside him, voice dropping. "How you feeling."
Jiang Yue stared at the wall. "Like my house got invaded by a cult."
Xu Zhe snorted. "That bad?"
"Worse," Jiang Yue said. "They're smiling."
Xu Zhe leaned back on his hands, looking around. "So… you meet the new stepbrother today."
Jiang Yue's jaw tightened.
"Apparently," he said.
Xu Zhe watched him, expression more serious. "You gonna start a fight?"
Jiang Yue looked at him, offended. "Me? Start a fight? I'm a gentleman now. Look at my suit."
Xu Zhe's eyes narrowed. "That's not an answer."
Jiang Yue took another sip of milk tea and said, "I'm going to behave."
Xu Zhe blinked. "Are you sick too?"
Jiang Yue kicked him lightly with his foot. "Shut up."
Xu Zhe's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and then looked up at Jiang Yue again. "Okay. But if he's annoying, you text me. I'll distract you."
Jiang Yue raised an eyebrow. "How."
Xu Zhe grinned. "I'll start flirting with him."
Jiang Yue choked on his milk tea. "You will do what?"
Xu Zhe laughed. "Kidding. Mostly."
Jiang Yue wiped his mouth, glaring. "This is why you're single."
"I'm single because I have standards," Xu Zhe replied.
"You have trauma," Jiang Yue corrected.
Xu Zhe held up his hands. "Fair."
From the living room, Aunt Lin's voice carried again. "Jiang Yue! Come out! We need to take photos at home before we go!"
Jiang Yue's entire body tensed.
Xu Zhe stood up immediately. "I should go. Before they rope me into family portraits."
Jiang Yue grabbed his wrist for a second, surprising himself. "Stay," he said, then cleared his throat and added, "If you leave, I'll be alone with them."
Xu Zhe's expression softened for a heartbeat, then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay until you leave for the venue."
Jiang Yue let go like he hadn't meant to.
They stepped out into the hallway.
The living room exploded into activity when Jiang Yue appeared. Someone adjusted his collar. Someone told him to stand straighter. Aunt Lin made a noise of approval like she'd purchased him.
His mother appeared from the bedroom looking like someone else entirely. Makeup done, hair styled, dress not yet on but a white robe wrapped around her like a promise.
When Jiang Yue saw her, his throat tightened again.
She looked beautiful.
She also looked like she was walking into a storm.
They took photos. Too many. Jiang Yue smiled until his face hurt. He stood beside his mother and tried not to think about how this might be the last time their family photos looked like only the two of them.
Relatives said things like "So handsome!" and "Such a good son!" and Jiang Yue nodded politely, because today he was a well-trained animal.
He caught snippets of gossip between camera clicks.
"The groom's son is very优秀, very capable…"
"I heard he never causes trouble…"
"Top of his class…"
"Such a pity, now he has to live with Jiang Yue…"
Jiang Yue's smile sharpened.
He didn't even know this person yet, and everyone had already decided Jiang Yue was the problem.
Fine.
If the universe was going to cast him as the villain, he might as well do it with style.
Finally, it was time to leave.
Cars were arranged. Gifts were carried. Aunt Lin instructed everyone like she was directing a movie.
Jiang Yue got shoved into the back seat of a car with two relatives he barely knew. Xu Zhe stood outside the car window, leaning down.
"Text me if you need backup," Xu Zhe said.
Jiang Yue rolled his eyes. "What backup. You're one person."
Xu Zhe grinned. "I'm an idea."
Jiang Yue snorted. "That's the most useless thing you've ever said."
"And yet you'll miss me," Xu Zhe replied.
Jiang Yue's mouth twitched. "Go away."
Xu Zhe straightened, then tapped the roof of the car twice like a ritual. "Survive," he said.
The car pulled away.
Jiang Yue watched his building disappear behind them and felt an unexpected flicker of grief, like he was leaving something he wouldn't get back.
The city moved past the window, familiar streets under a pale sky. People were already out, going to markets, opening shops, living normal lives like it wasn't wedding day in Jiang Yue's personal apocalypse.
His relatives chatted in the car, discussing food and guests and who was sitting where. Jiang Yue stared out the window and let their words blur into background noise.
He tried to picture the groom's son.
Responsible. Polite. Top student.
The kind of person who probably folded his clothes and used color-coded notebooks.
The kind of person who would look at Jiang Yue and see exactly what everyone else saw: trouble.
Jiang Yue's fingers tightened on his phone in his pocket.
He told himself he didn't care.
He told himself he wouldn't care.
The car turned onto a road lined with tall trees and red banners. The wedding venue appeared ahead, bright and busy, like a festival.
Jiang Yue's stomach twisted.
This was it.
The next time he walked into a room, he'd walk out with a new family whether he wanted it or not.
He stepped out of the car, straightened his suit, and put on his best smile.
If the world was going to rewrite his life, he would at least make it work for it.
And somewhere inside the venue, behind all the red decorations and loud music and fake happiness, a boy named Wei Nianzhan was waiting.
Jiang Yue walked toward the entrance without knowing that the moment he saw Wei, the war would finally have a face.