To Treat Each Other Like Brothers - Chapter 1

Northern City in December was blanketed by a heavy, swirling snowstorm.

A Rolls-Royce glided to a halt before the iron gates of the courtyard. The car door pushed open, and the first thing to emerge was a pair of polished, red-bottomed leather shoes.

Xie Shiyao leaned out from the back seat, holding a black umbrella tilted extremely low.

A figure was already waiting at the villa’s entrance, dressed in a neat uniform; this was the butler of the Xie family’s ancestral home.

As Xie Shiyao approached, the butler, Uncle Li, bowed with practiced precision.

Snow slid down the back of the umbrella. As the rim of the black canopy lifted slightly, it revealed an excessively handsome face. Xie Shiyao asked Uncle Li, “Is he still being that ‘good’ today?”

The “he” in question was, naturally, Xie Shiyao’s unrelated younger brother, Lin Zhuyi.

Uncle Li remembered clearly that every time Xie Shiyao asked about Lin Zhuyi, he deliberately avoided using his name, opting only for “he.”

Uncle Li spoke the truth: “He is being the kind of ‘good’ that would satisfy you.”

“Hm, not bad.” Xie Shiyao closed the umbrella and handed it to the butler. “If he had been this well-behaved from the start, we would not have had to go through such a long ordeal.”

The main doors were pushed open, allowing light to flood into the foyer. In every corner of the house, large and small, hidden surveillance cameras were tucked away.

On the long dining table sat an array of exquisite dishes, still steaming slightly. In the center of the table, a young man heard the footsteps and looked up.

It was an exceptionally refined face with large eyes and pupils of pure, ink-black.

“Brother, if you had not come back soon, the food I made would have gone cold,” the young man said.

Xie Shiyao’s gaze swept slowly across Lin Zhuyi’s face, carrying the condescending, scrutinizing look one might give to an inanimate object.

Then, Xie Shiyao pulled out a chair and sat down. “Let’s eat.”

Lin Zhuyi naturally began to peel shrimp for Xie Shiyao. The pinkish-white meat was stripped from its shell and, guided by Lin Zhuyi’s chopsticks, landed on Xie Shiyao’s plate.

As if he had not seen it, Xie Shiyao gestured with his eyes toward the soup in the center of the table. “Pour me a bowl.”

Lin Zhuyi complied. The soup splashed rhythmically against the ladle as he handed over a steaming bowl.

Xie Shiyao frowned. “It is too far; I cannot reach it. Bring it over.”

Hearing this, a hint of a smile actually curled at the corners of Lin Zhuyi’s mouth, as if this command were a special reward for him. Holding the soup bowl, he walked toward Xie Shiyao.

Their hands touched. The bowl was warm, but their fingertips were both very cold.

As if on purpose, Xie Shiyao let out a slow, lazy “Ah,” withdrawing his hand as if he had actually been scalded.

The bowl fell, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter. Shards of porcelain and soup splattered everywhere.

Xie Shiyao looked down at the mess on the floor, seemingly quite satisfied. “So dirty. Clean it up.”

Lin Zhuyi saw that Xie Shiyao had done it intentionally, but he said nothing. He crouched down and began to pick up the fragments.

As he was cleaning, the tip of a leather shoe silently appeared next to his hand and stopped.

Xie Shiyao’s voice drifted down from above: “Being this obedient, it really does not seem like you.”

“Lin Zhuyi, would you rather live like this every day than admit you are faking amnesia?”

Lin Zhuyi did not look up, continuing his task. “Brother, I do not understand what you are talking about.”

He paused, pinching a sharp shard of porcelain. Blood began to seep along the edge of the fragment.

Expressionless, Lin Zhuyi put the bleeding fingertip into his mouth. His tongue flicked out, swirling away the blood. When he looked up again, a red stain marked his lower lip.

He stared straight at Xie Shiyao. “After all, Brother, you are the only one I remember. In my world, there is only you.”

A cold wind seemed to pick up outside, rushing through the half-open window and fluttering Lin Zhuyi’s hair. In the gap where his hair rose and fell, Xie Shiyao clearly saw the hearing aid worn in Lin Zhuyi’s right ear.

It was something Xie Shiyao had paid for years ago, specially customized for Lin Zhuyi. If one did not look closely, it appeared to be a piece of avant-garde jewelry; it was hard to associate it with a hearing aid.

Xie Shiyao took a quiet, deep breath and picked up the shrimp on his plate, chewing it slowly. The shrimp should have been delicious, but at the thought that Lin Zhuyi had peeled it, the taste turned bland instantly.

Ever since his father passed away and he reunited with Lin Zhuyi at the funeral, Lin Zhuyi seemed to have transformed completely. His temper had changed, his personality had shifted, and he claimed to know nothing, saying only that he had lost his memory.

No matter what Xie Shiyao demanded, Lin Zhuyi would do it immediately, incredibly submissive.

But no matter how much Lin Zhuyi put on an act or begged for mercy, it still disgusted Xie Shiyao just as much as when they were kids.

After all, if hatred could take physical form, the resentment Xie Shiyao had accumulated over ten years would surely turn into two hands and snap Lin Zhuyi’s neck.

Lin Zhuyi’s pale neck was exposed to Xie Shiyao’s sight; one firm squeeze was all it would take to sever this relationship forever.

A heavy shadow loomed over Lin Zhuyi as Xie Shiyao wiped his hands with a napkin.

Ultimately, Xie Shiyao only sighed, tossed the napkin onto the table, and walked toward the stairs with long strides.

The wind made the gauze curtains rustle. Four months ago in autumn, at Dad’s funeral, the wind had swept past the scalp in just the same way.

It was September, during the burial. That was when Lin Zhuyi began faking his amnesia.

It was also in that September that the tangled past between him and Lin Zhuyi was blown into an even greater mess by the wind.

If one were to trace back to a few days before the funeral, Xie Shiyao was still in New York, on the verge of graduating from university.

Throughout those four years, his father had ignored him, never even making a single phone call. Therefore, when he learned his father was bringing his mistress to New York to attend the graduation ceremony, he even felt a spark of happiness.

Until he received the death notification for both his father and the mistress.

A car accident left only him and Lin Zhuyi, the boy he had lived under the same roof with for ten years, remaining in the family.

Accompanied by the autumn rain, Xie Shiyao boarded a flight back to his home country with damp eyes.

Four years ago, after a huge fight with his father, he had left in a fit of pique. Now, his father had died on the highway while on the way to see him, leaving him without even the chance for a final farewell.

When the plane landed in Northern City, he first went to a service center to get a SIM card. He had not returned during his university years, and his old number had long since been deactivated.

He sent the new number to Uncle Li at the old house. After explaining a few things and hanging up, an unknown number ending in 1 called him within minutes.

Looking at that string of digits, Xie Shiyao felt a bad premonition rising in his heart.

“Who is this?” Xie Shiyao asked, pretending not to care.

On the other end of the line, there was a brief silence. After about five seconds, Xie Shiyao finally heard that familiar, calm, and slightly chilling voice.

“Brother, you are back.”

The voice struck his ear and pierced through his heart; Xie Shiyao’s heart clearly began to beat faster.

Seeing that Xie Shiyao did not speak, Lin Zhuyi added: “Shouldn’t the first call you make upon returning be to me? Why did you call Uncle Li first?”

No wonder he found him so quickly; it seemed Lin Zhuyi had been right there when he called Uncle Li.

With a “here we go again” mindset, Xie Shiyao lowered his voice and began to strike back: “So you are still loitering at my family’s old house. Get out. That is my home, and my home never welcomes outsiders.”

Lin Zhuyi’s voice remained unruffled, as if he had already guessed Xie Shiyao would say this: “The old house is your home, and it is my home too. Ten years ago, when Mom and I moved in, we already became a family.”

“So, even until we die, we will always be family. Do not even think about cutting ties with me.”

Lin Zhuyi paused, then added: “Brother, it has been four years. I missed you very much. Did you miss me?”

Hearing that voice made Xie Shiyao’s head ache; everything ached. He treated it as if he had run into a malevolent ghost in broad daylight and prepared to hang up.

Lin Zhuyi seemed to calculate that move: “Do not hang up.”

“Brother. These past four years, did you miss me? Did you ever think of me?”

Yes. Thinking about why you have not died yet.

Xie Shiyao sneered: “Miss you? If you had not pulled that stunt back then, would I have stayed away for four years and missed my father’s final moments?”

Lin Zhuyi’s breathing clearly quickened on the other end: “Brother, I am giving you one last chance to answer properly. Three seconds. I will give you time.”

“Did you think of me?”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Despite being five years younger, Lin Zhuyi’s voice always carried a heavy sense of oppression.

As if afraid Lin Zhuyi would not hear him clearly, Xie Shiyao pressed his mouth directly against the receiver and spoke each word with biting clarity.

“Piss off.”

There was another silence from Lin Zhuyi’s side.

“You have really disappointed me a little. Xie Shiyao, is that your answer?”

“Alright, then I know.”

“Do not regret this.”

Lin Zhuyi spoke these words coldly and hung up.

Xie Shiyao looked at the phone screen and locked it, speechless. As always, Lin Zhuyi was truly sick in the head. If there were a competition for lunatics, Lin Zhuyi would undoubtedly take first place.

Calming his mood, Xie Shiyao began a whirlwind of busy tasks as if he had never received Lin Zhuyi’s call. From handling the funeral arrangements to answering condolence calls from relatives who managed the family’s hotels, malls, and resorts.

Facing all this, Xie Shiyao acted like a perfectly functioning machine, handling everything with ease. Only occasionally would he sit by the toilet in his expensive coat, clutching the porcelain bowl and vomiting everything in his stomach until he was empty.

He vaguely remembered Uncle Li mentioning later that Lin Zhuyi, who was supposed to be fine at the old house, had suddenly fainted from a headache and was rushed to the hospital, where he was taken away by the Lin family.

Xie Shiyao had no time to care, simply saying, “What does that have to do with me? Do not tell me anything about Lin Zhuyi; I am really not interested.”

After pushing through for a week, the day of his father’s burial finally arrived.

At 4:30 AM, Xie Shiyao changed into an inverted-triangle black suit and wrapped a black silk scarf around his neck, expertly tying a loop knot to hide the palm-long, pinkish scar on his throat.

He walked out of the old house and stepped into a black business van that looked like a coffin.

The van drove into Northern City Cemetery.

The burial was a long process, especially for Xie Shiyao, who had not seen his father in four years. A man nearly sixty years old had been reduced to ash, placed in a Phoebe zhennan box, and laid to rest forever alongside his biological mother.

As the earth was leveled, Xie Shiyao forced himself to remain standing. He did not want to look anymore, his gaze wandering through the mourning crowd.

Soon, amidst the rows of black umbrellas, Xie Shiyao saw the “younger brother” he had not seen in four years: Lin Zhuyi.

The once immature youth stood alone in the rain without an umbrella. In a slim-fit black suit, the familiar hearing aid hung against his pale neck.

The sound of rain hitting the black umbrellas seemed to be amplified with striking clarity at that moment.

Lin Zhuyi seemed to sense something. He looked up, peering precisely in the direction of Xie Shiyao.

Through the cold raindrops, their gazes locked together without warning.

Lin Zhuyi had grown taller. His black clothes were soaked through by the rain, emphasizing his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and upright posture. It was impossible to tell he was still a year away from turning eighteen.

The mourning relatives were like a black tide, placing white flowers before his father’s grave and then receding.

Soon, it was Lin Zhuyi’s turn.

Lin Zhuyi passed by Xie Shiyao to offer his flowers. In the moment their paths crossed with the bouquet, he gave Xie Shiyao a deep look.

His pitch-black pupils were like black holes, reflecting Xie Shiyao’s silhouette. In that second, Xie Shiyao instantly heard the sound of his blood racing.

葬禮結束後，謝時曜分身乏術，周旋在各個連面都沒見過幾次的親戚之間。

There was a woman claiming to be Lin Zhuyi’s aunt who also arrived. According to her, since Xie Shiyao and Lin Zhuyi were not on the same household register, the guardianship of Lin Zhuyi naturally fell to her.

Xie Shiyao observed the aunt’s appearance. Her hair was cheaply permed, she wore a floral cotton outfit, and the gold ring on her hand was so worn it no longer reflected light.

Ah, she is after the inheritance Lin Zhuyi’s mother left for her son.

According to Uncle Li, the inheritance was quite substantial; two whole rows of shops in the Northern City CBD, a Bentley, a Rolls-Royce, and several properties including villas and apartments. Enough to live comfortably for a lifetime.

Xie Shiyao kindly reminded the aunt: “I do not mind, but he has a high IQ. Be careful not to be played by him instead.”

After finishing his work, Xie Shiyao found a tree, lit a thin cigarette beneath it, and breathed a sigh of relief.

The cigarette filter was gold. With a click of the lighter, smoke flooded into his mouth and was exhaled through his moist teeth, making his lips look softer than usual.

Just then, Xie Shiyao heard a noisy commotion not far away.

“Zhuyi, how can you not remember me? I am your aunt!”

“Your brother has already agreed; he does not want you anymore! Are you still being foolish, insisting that your brother take you home?”

Xie Shiyao looked toward the sound. Aunt Lin was tugging at Lin Zhuyi, trying to pull him into a taxi.

Lin Zhuyi looked quite innocent. “I only listen to my brother.”

Hmph. What kind of act is this lunatic putting on now?

Xie Shiyao slowly inhaled the smoke, watching the show.

As luck would have it, Lin Zhuyi noticed Xie Shiyao under the tree. A light flickered in Lin Zhuyi’s eyes. “Brother, let us go home together.”

It was strange; usually, Lin Zhuyi was expressionless when meeting him. Why did he seem almost happy today?

But Xie Shiyao had no desire to play along with Lin Zhuyi. “Your aunt has your guardianship. Do you really expect me to raise you?”

Lin Zhuyi seemed to freeze in the rain.

“You are the only person I know right now. How can you say something like we are not close? It makes me so sad.”

As he spoke, Lin Zhuyi’s eyes actually turned red.

Xie Shiyao’s eyes widened. This little bastard, his acting skills have improved significantly; it is a waste that he is not an actor.

He almost laughed in frustration, turning to Uncle Li. “What is wrong with him? Why is he putting on a performance here?”

After some hesitation, Uncle Li answered: “You told me not to mention anything about Lin Zhuyi to you, so I did not dare bring it up.”

“After Lin Zhuyi was sent to the hospital that day, he slept all afternoon. When he woke up, he did not recognize anyone except for you, including me.”

“The Lin family later had three doctors examine him. They all said the trauma of losing his mother was too great, causing his memory to become scrambled. It is psychogenic amnesia.”

“Now, in this world, he only recognizes you, and he is only willing to go home with you.”

A long trail of ash fell from between his fingers.

“And you believe that?” Xie Shiyao asked Uncle Li back. “You watched us torment each other since we were kids. Have you forgotten all the dirty tricks he used to plot against me?”

Meanwhile, Lin Zhuyi had already shaken off his aunt’s hand.

Raindrops hung from Lin Zhuyi’s eyelashes, on the verge of falling. Step by step, he walked through the mud toward Xie Shiyao.

“Brother.”

“I waited four years for you, and it was so hard to finally see you return.”

At this point, Lin Zhuyi stopped a step away from Xie Shiyao and looked up.

“I only have you left.”

All visible sadness evaporated from Lin Zhuyi’s face like water droplets hitting a searing iron plate, vanishing without a trace.

Lin Zhuyi became expressionless, staring directly at Xie Shiyao. Though his words were a plea, there was a chilling undertone to them.

“Are you going to abandon me again, Brother?”