My sister, whom I raised, has turned evil after faking her death for three years.

Throughout the journey, Su Qing looked at Jiang Yi with a half-smile, slightly narrowed eyes.

(This is roughly the kind of expression you can use as a reference (눈v눈))

Jiang Yi felt uncomfortable under her gaze, and the blush that hadn't faded from her ears started to burn again.

She turned her head away, pretending to look at the scenery outside the car window, but she couldn't help but glance at Su Qing out of the corner of her eye.

Although I'm convinced she's an imposter, I have to admit that she's just as pretty and cute as Sister Su. Especially with her outfit today, the soft, milky-white knit sweater clings to her body, her long hair falls from one side of her neck to her front, and she sits there quietly. Sunlight streams in through the car window and falls on her profile, making her look both docile and gentle.

Su Qing was chatting idly with the system in her mind to pass the time, her gaze unconsciously falling on the street scenes rushing past the car window.

The afternoon sun shone through the car window, bathing her in a soft golden glow.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyelashes turning a light golden brown in the sunlight, and a few strands of hair slipped down from behind her ears, brushing against her fair cheeks.

She was completely unaware that she was being secretly watched, and simply looked out the window quietly, a very faint, unconscious smile on her lips.

The system softly reported in her mind: [Host, Jiang Yi is looking at you. Her heart rate is 12 percent faster than before, and her pupils are slightly dilated—she may be experiencing some kind of cognitive dissonance.]

Upon hearing this, Su Qing turned her head slightly and met Jiang Yi's large eyes, which hadn't had time to look away.

Caught red-handed, Jiang Yi sat bolt upright as if she'd been burned. Su Qing couldn't help but smile at her obvious attempt to cover up her mistake.

Jiang Yi's face turned even redder. She silently repeated "This is fake, this is fake" to herself several times, but for some reason, as she kept repeating it, she herself began to doubt it.

The car stopped in front of a private hospital.

As Su Qing got out of the car, she looked up at the magnificent building, marveling at how different the environment of a private hospital was from that of a public one. Then she saw a familiar figure walking towards her from the other end of the corridor.

White lab coat, thin-rimmed silver glasses, and a cool, aloof expression.

"Gentle and kind?"

"Miss Su?" Wen Liang was slightly taken aback, then his gaze fell on the person behind Su Qing who was staring at them with resentment, and the smile on his lips deepened.

Jiang Yi's gaze passed over Su Qing's shoulder and fixed intently on Wen Liang.

Seeing her like this, Wen Liang sighed silently to himself. Did the young lady think Miss Su was some kind of dangerous person?

Jiang Yi's voice was sinister: "You're still using your sister's name. You've done your research quite thoroughly."

Su Qing felt a chill run down her spine from that eerie, ghostly gaze and subconsciously took half a step closer to Wen Liang.

Wen Liang was not surprised at all. He simply took out a medicine box, gestured for Su Qing to sit down in the chair, and then bent down to carefully examine the injury on her wrist.

The bluish-purple bruises and several bloody fingernail marks looked particularly shocking against her fair skin.

Wen Liang gently wiped the wound with a cotton swab dipped in iodine, then applied ointment, and carefully wrapped it with a bandage several times.

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She never asked how the injury came about. She simply raised her eyes casually and glanced at the young lady standing next to her, who was standing straight with a fierce expression but whose eyes were clearly red.

Su Qing felt quite awkward under her gaze and tried to break the awkward atmosphere.

She glanced at the fine layer of sweat on Wen Liang's forehead and her slightly hurried steps as she rushed over from the other side of the corridor, and casually asked, "Dr. Wen, were you examining another patient just now? You seemed quite busy."

Wen Liang was tying the last knot in the bandage when he heard this, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

Her fingers lingered on Su Qing's wrist for a moment before gently withdrawing. Her voice remained cool and professional, but upon closer listening, a faint hint of helplessness and indulgence was revealed: "Who says otherwise? A new patient came in today. He was clearly unwell but refused to be properly examined. He just stood there awkwardly with me for ages, giving me a real headache."

After listening, Su Qing silently thought to herself, "Dr. Wen is such a good doctor, so patient with his patients."

She didn't see the fleeting glint in Wen Liang's cold eyes after he finished speaking. The glint contained satisfaction, possessiveness, and a wicked smile that only she knew.

After the bandage was finished, Su Qing stood up and moved her wrist around. Feeling much better, she thanked Wen Liang.

Wen Liang nodded slightly and watched them leave.

She turned and walked back, the hem of her white coat swaying gently in the corridor. A slender hand took a phone out of a pocket, the screen lit up, displaying a simple reminder.

Her gaze lingered on that line of text for a moment, and a very faint smile curved her lips.

I don't know if it achieved the effect she expected.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The car stopped in front of the Linjiang Hotel.

Jiang Yi followed Su Qing through the lobby, watching her expertly swipe her card and press the button for the thirty-first floor.

She stood in the elevator watching the floor number rise, her dissatisfaction rising like bubbles in a soda.

Every time she came to see Xiao Ran, she had to be mentally prepared to be kicked out if she entered with either her left or right foot first. She even had to think about which chair to sit in before deciding whether Xiao Ran would be unhappy.

Why is it that this fake Sister Su can just move in?

Su Qing didn't notice the resentful gaze behind her.

She pushed open the hidden door of the suite, went into the kitchen, took out the groceries that the bodyguards had just brought back, sorted and put them away, then took out a carton of strawberry milk from the shopping bag and turned to walk towards the living room.

Jiang Yi was standing in the center of the living room, looking around, his expression saying, "Why is this imposter allowed to live here?"

Su Qing walked up to her and gently placed the strawberry milk in her arms: "Sit on the sofa for a while, I'll go prepare something to eat."

Jiang Yi looked down at the box of strawberry milk in her hand and froze for a moment.

Three years ago, every time she went to Sister Su's house for a meal, Sister Su would let her watch TV on the sofa first, and then hand her a box of strawberry milk.

The movements were exactly the same, the tone was exactly the same, even the expression of smiling at her with slightly curved eyes was exactly the same.

Why would she do that? She just looked up some information, why would she imitate even such trivial habits so perfectly?

Su Qing did not notice the complex expression on Jiang Yi's face.

She was looking down at the bandage around her wrist, trying to move her fingers, and felt that it was really in the way and would definitely rub against her when she was working.

Just as she was about to reach out to untie it, a hand reached out from the side and silently took the vegetable basket in front of her.

Jiang Yi stood in front of the sink, poured the vegetables into the basin, turned on the tap, and began to wash them.

She didn't say anything, but whenever Su Qing picked up something, she would snatch it away first.

Su Qing wanted to pick vegetables, but she snatched them from her.

Su Qing wanted to cut the meat, but she snatched it from her and started cutting.

Su Qing wanted to steam the crabs first, so she reached out and grabbed them.

Just as Su Qing was about to say that the rope had been untied, she heard a scream of "Ah!"

The half-dead crab probably sensed the approaching end, and with its last bit of strength, it lashed its pincers onto Jiang Yi's fair fingers.

Although the force wasn't great, the serrated edges of the crab claw still left a red mark on her fair skin, which looked rather shocking.

Jiang Yi looked at the red mark on her hand, then at the dead crab, her big eyes filled with tears of pain, her expression as crestfallen as a kitten whose tail had been stepped on.

Su Qing quickly put down what she was holding and went over.

She took Jiang Yi's injured hand, raised it to eye level, and gently blew on the red mark.

Her lips were slightly pouting, her breath was soft and warm, and it carried a slight coolness as it brushed against the wound.

Jiang Yi stared blankly at Su Qing's slightly drooping eyelashes as she blew on her wound, looking into those clear eyes that reflected her image, and felt as if the softest part of her heart had been struck hard.

Many years ago, after Sister Su rescued her from the alley, she treated her wounds in the same way in the car.

She remembered that Sister Su held her scraped hand and gently blew on it. Her eyes were bright and gentle as she told her not to be afraid, that blowing on it would make the pain go away.

The movements, appearance, tone of voice, and eyes were exactly the same.

Jiang Yi stared blankly at the person in front of her, her firm belief silently wavering.

Could it be that she was never a fake? Or was she always the real one?

Meanwhile, in the mirror at the back of the kitchen, a camera hidden behind the glass was recording everything frame by frame.

Jiang Ran leaned back in her chair, watching the scene on the screen where her sister bent down to blow on Jiang Yi's wound, watching her sister's eyelashes droop slightly and her lips pout gently.

That was a tenderness that belonged only to her, a tenderness she had waited three years to regain.

A sinister smile curled at the corner of her lips. She picked up her phone from the table, dialed a number, and said in a voice as cold as if it had been carved from an ice cellar: "Find out for me the maximum size of the promotional sign at the entrance of the Linjiang Hotel lobby."

She paused, then tapped her thumb lightly twice on the handrail. "I'm going to add a prominent sign at the entrance that anyone whose name contains the character 'Yi' will not be received."