The Leng estate was unusually quiet that evening. A sign of an impending storm.
Qingxue knew it the moment she stepped into the grand hall. The air was too still, the servants unusually careful, their gazes flickering away the moment they caught sight of her.
She sighed.
A family meeting.
She was right.
The moment she entered the study, five pairs of eyes locked onto her.
Her brothers.
Leng Yuxian, composed as ever, leaned against the desk, his fingers tapping idly against the surface. Leng Zhaoyan stood near the bookshelves, arms crossed, his expression cold. Leng Haoyu was seated with a pen in hand, as if reviewing documents but clearly waiting for her. Leng Yichen and Leng Jiuhan, the youngest of them, were sprawled on the couch—one looking amused, the other unreadable.
Qiuhan was already there, of course. Sitting opposite their eldest brother, sipping his tea with that cool, detached air he always had.
"Xue'er," Yuxian began, his voice calm but firm. "You met Leng Yiran today."
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she walked toward the couch, settling beside Jiuhan, who instinctively shifted so she had more space. Yichen passed her a drink, watching her closely.
Then, she exhaled. "Yes."
"And?" Zhaoyan pressed, his tone sharp. "Your thoughts?"
She met his gaze, tilting her head slightly. "Cautious."
There was a pause.
Then Haoyu hummed. "So, he's not an immediate threat."
"He's not foolish," Qingxue admitted. "He played well today. He isn't looking for unnecessary conflict, but he isn't passive either. He tested me, and I tested him back."
Jiuhan finally spoke, his voice lazy but his eyes sharp. "Then, should I crush him?"
Qingxue smirked slightly, shaking her head. "No need."
Yuxian studied her before nodding. "Very well. We'll watch."
Zhaoyan didn't look convinced. "I don't like unknown factors."
"You never do," Yichen teased, earning a glare.
The conversation should have ended there. But Zhaoyan wasn't done.
"You let him stand on equal ground with you today," he said, his voice low. "That's unlike you."
The room stilled slightly.
Qingxue placed her drink down, silver-blue eyes meeting her second brother's without hesitation. "I let him? Or did he prove he could?"
Zhaoyan's gaze darkened, but Yuxian cut in before he could say more.
"That's enough."
His voice was final.
Zhaoyan huffed but didn't argue.
The meeting dispersed soon after, but Qingxue knew what this meant.
Her brothers were watching.
And if Leng Yiran made even one wrong move—
They would not be merciful.