I Am Not a Vicious Stepsister! - Chapter 20

A flock of birds circled over the dark, heavy caskets as the distant tolling of a bell echoed through the air.

The funeral had begun.

The Rodney family, dressed in somber black, stood at the very front of the crowd.

Ni Songan, or rather, Heloise Rodney, was currently the only member of the main household capable of shouldering such a heavy responsibility. As she took her place beside the caskets, the crowd erupted into hushed whispers.

Unable to calm her mind enough to distinguish what they were saying, Songan forced herself to stay composed, managing the funeral arrangements with methodical precision.

The head of the Rodney family had prepared a will long ago, finalizing all decisions regarding the distribution of the estate. Once the lawyer finished reading the will, Songan would come into a significant fortune, while Modesty Rodney, who was nearly eighteen, would receive even more.

The transfer and name-change agreements had already been handled privately, so this gathering was merely a formal notification to the rest of the world.

Songan could feel the gaze of the crowd on her, some eyes filled with concern, others with naked malice. She was acutely aware that her future challenges wouldn’t just involve the inexorable pull of the original story’s plot, but also the very real hostility lurking in the shadows.

The original novel focused heavily on Modesty’s legendary entrepreneurial journey rather than the hardships she faced before she truly found her footing.

Desperately trying to recall the fading details of the plot, Songan could identify two specific villains the author had detailed.

The first was Modesty’s maternal aunt, Hilda Rodney. The second was Flora Adams, one of Modesty’s admirers.

Both women saw Modesty as a prize to be won. They believed that if they could control this seemingly sickly, timid child and seize her inheritance, they could live a life of luxury forever.

Unlike the original Heloise, who resorted to blatant, physical bullying, Hilda’s strategy was more psychological, she intended to use the guise of family affection to manipulate a young Modesty into giving everything up.

Flora’s approach was different; she followed Modesty as a business partner to achieve mutual gain, only to later reveal her greed. In the original story, she attempted to frame Modesty but was ultimately outsmarted.

Today, only one of these villains was present: Hilda Rodney.

Songan watched as the woman approached Modesty to offer “comfort.” Hilda’s long, curled hair flowed over her shoulders, and her eyes were slightly red. It was impossible to tell that she had been plotting ever since the will was read, this was merely the first step in her plan.

As Songan watched Hilda’s hand reach out to gently stroke Modesty’s back, Modesty seemed provoked by something the woman said and sharply slapped her aunt’s hand away.

Songan couldn’t help but take a few steps toward them. She saw Modesty’s eyes were bright red, brimming with tears that looked ready to fall at any moment.

Her protective instincts flared. Songan immediately stepped forward, pulled Modesty toward her, and shielded her. Hiding her internal wariness and calculations, she greeted the woman politely. “Aunt Hilda.”

Hilda ignored Songan, clearly not considering her a threat. She spoke softly in Modesty’s direction, “Don’t forget what I just told you. Would your aunt ever really hurt you?”

Leaving those words hanging in the air, she turned and swept out of the funeral. The hem of her black trench coat brushed against the white flowers lining the path, knocking a few petals to the ground.

Modesty remained silent, her head bowed. When Songan took Modesty’s face in her hands, she realized the girl was already covered in tears.

“What did… what did Aunt Hilda say? Can you tell me?” Songan asked, her heart aching. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the tear tracks from Modesty’s cheeks.

“It’s nothing,” Modesty replied, avoiding the subject. Songan didn’t want to push her. She suggested Modesty go rest for a while, leaving her, the stepsister, to oversee the remainder of the service.

“Miss Ni Songan, the late head’s assistant is here to discuss the business matters that need your attention.”

Rosalind knocked on the study door and, upon receiving a response, led a woman inside.

According to the arrangements made by Althea Rodney, Songan would temporarily take charge of the Rodney family’s affairs. After the funeral for Ni Tianjiao and Althea, the name “Heloise” constantly reminded Songan of unpleasant things, so she had asked everyone to call her “Ni Songan” instead. This time, her request was taken seriously, and no one used her old name.

“Hello, I am Althea’s assistant, Zhu Tingran. I will be assisting you with your work from now on.” The woman with long hair stepped forward and gave Songan a brief handshake. After the introduction, she placed a file folder on the desk and began explaining its contents item by item.

Songan had never been involved in this kind of work before. However, when the mountain of heavy tasks came her way, she didn’t fumble or panic as everyone expected. She handled things quite capably, or at the very least, ensured that the situation didn’t get any worse.

Her meetings with Modesty became less frequent. Songan spent almost all her time in the study or at the office. She wasn’t picky about food, usually grabbing a quick bite on the go.

When she finally managed to clear some time, Songan realized she still had a sister to check on.

Modesty had returned to Corridus International School after the mothers were laid to rest. Thinking back to the easy, happy days they had shared, Songan decided to see how she was doing at school. Proper concern was, after all, essential for a teenager’s healthy development.

Besides, everything had happened so fast recently that she hadn’t even had the chance to explain the situation to Modesty in detail. What if the girl thought her stepsister had some ulterior motive?

The mere thought made Songan shudder. She wanted to fly to Modesty’s side immediately to prove her innocence.

The passing of Althea and Ni Tianjiao suggested that the plot’s influence was still active. Songan couldn’t help but worry about the day the original Heloise was supposed to go to prison. Would she be safe? Even if it wasn’t because of the mothers, the “plot” might find her eyesore-ish and slap a random charge on her.

But after the initial panic, she organized her evidence, confirming that even if someone tried to frame her, she could defend herself with a clear conscience.

Even if the “World Consciousness” wanted to pull something, it had to be logical, right? Just like before, it had caused a car accident, but that influence had vanished under Songan’s self-control, allowing her and Modesty to reconcile.

Songan looked out the window at the drizzling rain.

***

Before Songan set off, Rosalind helped her pack the snacks that Modesty usually enjoyed. As a housekeeper who had worked in Quxi Orange County for decades, she had watched Modesty grow up. How could she not feel for these two children?

One wasn’t even eighteen yet, and the other was still a year away from graduating college.

“They’re both just kids,” Rosalind thought, her expression softening. “Modesty is very sensible. You’re both good girls, so please take care of yourselves.”

Songan gave her a small smile, took the packaged box, and nodded a polite goodbye before getting into the car.

The thirty-minute drive felt like an eternity to Songan, as if time itself were being stretched. When they finally reached Corridus, she opened the door and hopped out the moment the car came to a stop.

She hadn’t told Modesty she was coming. She only sent a message once she reached the dormitory building.

The reply came instantly. Songan scrolled up; their last chat had been two weeks ago. Since then, Songan had been so swamped with work and school that their conversations always ended after just a few lines.

It only took a few minutes for Modesty to come downstairs. Having not seen her for a while, Songan found herself at a loss for words.

She held up the small box and forced a stiff smile. “I brought some snacks for you. I wanted to come see you at school, I’ve been so busy lately.”

Modesty didn’t look as haggard as before, she seemed to be slowly recovering from the tragic news. She took the box, her thick eyelashes fluttering. As she looked down, her falling hair obscured most of her eyes. She asked, “Sis, do you want to come up for a bit? Or are you busy again?”

“I’ll come up with you.” Songan actually had a mountain of work waiting for her, but looking at Modesty’s lonely figure, she couldn’t bring herself to say she was leaving.

Her true feelings slipped out first. As they chatted, Songan began mentally rearranging her schedule, pushing back less important tasks to make time for her sister.

Once the dorm door was closed and they were alone, Songan stepped forward and took Modesty’s hand in hers. To her surprise, there was a noticeable height difference now. Modesty had hit a growth spurt and looked much healthier, and Songan couldn’t quite wrap both of her hands around Modesty’s like she used to.

It was a little awkward, but compared to everything else, it was trivial. They were standing so close that Songan could see the faint red veins in Modesty’s eyes.

Looking into her eyes, Songan felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. She spoke with absolute gravity.

“I won’t stop you from inheriting the family estate. Once you turn eighteen, in six months. I will return everything to you.”

“Do you believe me, Modesty?”

A flash of surprise crossed Modesty’s eyes. She stared intently at Songan. “I believe you.”

“But Sis, I think there’s a misunderstanding. I don’t mind you being the head of the family. Besides, this was our mothers’ decision. You are the one they chose to lead, you don’t need to talk about ‘returning’ anything…” Modesty squeezed Songan’s hand back, her palm warm.

Songan pulled one hand free and pressed a finger to Modesty’s lips. “You are the true Rodney bloodline. It is only right that you inherit it. I am an outsider after all, so don’t argue with me.”

Seeing her resolve, Modesty could only nod in quiet acceptance.

“Are you free for the rest of the day? We haven’t seen each other in two weeks, do you want to talk for a while?” The initial awkwardness had vanished, and Modesty was back to her usual self. She set the snack box down, her voice filled with hope.

“Sure.” Songan wanted to spend more time with her anyway.

They sat at a small round table by the balcony, the fringe of the tablecloth brushing against Songan’s trousers. Modesty pushed a glass toward her, filled with delicate flower petals unfurling in the hot water.

Songan took a sip of the floral tea and started the conversation. “How has school been lately?”

“It’s alright. I’ve met a few new people in the year I’ve been at Corridus.” Modesty’s fingertips were slightly red from the heat of the glass, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she gripped the cup tighter.

“It’s good to make new friends…” Songan struggled to find topics, nodding and rambling a bit. “Do you remember a year ago? You didn’t speak the language very well back then, I was so worried you wouldn’t settle in.”

Modesty looked at her and smiled. “It’s thanks to you teaching me, Sis. Otherwise, it would have taken me much longer to adjust.”

Thinking back on those times, Songan felt a wave of nostalgia. “You’ve worked hard. If anything is bothering you, you must tell me.”

“You too, Sis. Don’t push yourself too hard with all that work.” Modesty looked at her with genuine concern.

The rain outside had stopped. Songan asked a bit more about Modesty’s daily life and what she needed, then checked her watch. “It’s time. I have to head out.”

Modesty stood up to see her off. Songan opened the door and came face to face with a group of young girls about to knock. Both sides froze, staring at each other in surprise.

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