The maid was puzzled: “Yes, Young Master, didn’t you prepare a surprise for Zhixia?”

From under the covers, I heard her words.
A surprise?
He’d given me plenty of shocks these past days!

“Sister,” the wolf said coldly, knocking on the bed frame like a door: “I’m sorry. Come to the parking lot.”

His stiff tone made me lift the blanket slightly, peeking out with half my head.

Dr. Tingting clicked her pen, lifting her clipboard: “Mr. Ye, do you have emotional issues?”

“Young Master, he…” The maid hesitated, then stopped, turning to me: “Zhixia, let’s go to the parking lot.”

I yanked my head back: “Not leaving!”

She poked the blanket gently: “Just take a look. If you don’t want to leave, we’ll come back. The Young Master won’t force you.”

I peeked again, cautiously eyeing the wolf.

His face was unreadable, his towering frame like steel, radiating oppression.

Grandma’s death haunted me—a lifelong nightmare.
With my enemy before me, this helplessness suffocated my chest, like sinking in a dark swamp, no light, no escape.

“Let’s go?” The maid smiled, extending her hand.

“Mm.”
Fearing the wolf’s anger, I took her rough palm, letting her pull me up.

I slipped on shoes, head down, led by the maid, avoiding the wolf’s gaze.

Dr. Tingting followed.
The maid brought me to the parking lot, standing behind the wolf’s silver car’s trunk, ready for the so-called surprise.

The maid urged eagerly: “Zhixia, open it and see!”

Knowing it was coming dulled the surprise.
When the wolf was pleased, he’d give me things; when not, he’d smash me with his phone.
The heavy dog collar around my neck made me feel like a dog, stripped of freedom.

Fearing a beating, I played along, taking a deep breath and opening the trunk.
Colorful balloons floated up, startling me back a step despite my preparation!

The balloons hovered, and I steadied myself.
The trunk was stuffed with over a dozen gift boxes, labeled with numbers, and a bouquet of pink flowers stood on the right.

The maid smiled warmly: “Eighteen gifts, one for each of your birthdays. The Young Master put thought into each. Shall we open them?”

Could someone as cold as the wolf do something so thoughtful?

I ignored her, forcing a smile: “No need to open. I love them.”

I didn’t dare refuse, afraid he’d use the gifts as ammunition, pelting me endlessly, so I said I liked them.

All I wanted was Grandma.

Her return would be the greatest gift.

I couldn’t open my heart to them.
My fake smile didn’t fool the maid, Dr. Tingting, or even the wolf.

The maid and Dr. Tingting exchanged glances.
Tingting touched my shoulder: “Zhixia, Mr. Ye put effort into these. You don’t have to accept them, but explain why clearly. No need to make things tense. If you don’t share your thoughts, he’ll feel his efforts were wasted, and both sides end up unhappy.”

The maid nodded: “Right, Zhixia. You haven’t opened them—how do you know they don’t have what you want?”

Accepting gifts would disrespect Grandma—I couldn’t say that!

The wolf was volatile; I had to weigh consequences carefully.

I couldn’t mention Grandma—it was Tingting’s “deep secret.”
I wasn’t sure if the wolf knew he killed the woman who raised me.

Assume he didn’t—if he found out, he might kill me to silence me, like in the movies.

I considered mentioning his beatings, but feared his anger.
If he lashed out, I’d suffer, so I dropped it.

Unable to face him, I hung my head, uneasy: “Except for school, I don’t want anything.”

Dr. Tingting smiled gently: “As your guardian, Mr. Ye’s duty is to send you to school. Accepting gifts doesn’t conflict with that. You just don’t want to forgive him, do you?”

She saw through me.
Fearing his sudden strike, I hid behind the maid.

Did my forgiveness matter to someone like him?

The wolf stayed silent.
Peeking from the maid’s shoulder, I studied him.
Her reaction confirmed Tingting was right.

Tingting exhaled, addressing the wolf: “Mr. Ye, will you blame her for not accepting the gifts?”

He hesitated, his deadpan face managing two words: “No.”

My heart eased, shoulders relaxing.

Tingting, displeased with his delay, pursed her lips: “No therapy, fine. Read more, listen to soft music. Can you do that, Mr. Ye?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly.

Satisfied, she continued: “What are your usual hobbies, Mr. Ye?”

“Boxing.”

The maid nodded eagerly: “The Young Master occasionally plays piano, though less lately.”

I gaped—boxing fit him, but… this murderer played piano?

Could fists that hit also play music?
Didn’t pianists protect their hands?

Tingting, sensing his contradictions, said grimly: “Play more. The household registry is done—you’re legally siblings. As the elder brother, act like a parent. Spend time understanding each other, okay?”

Still expressionless, he said: “Yes.”

I gritted my teeth—who wanted to play family with him?
Binding our registries without consent!

This path led back to the mansion—no return, no school.
Without getting close to the wolf, I couldn’t avenge Grandma.

I accepted reality—revenge could wait a decade!

His erratic nature worried me; he might hit me again.

My heart churned.
Pointing at him, I started: “You…”
My courage faltered, fearing his anger.
I withdrew my hand, crouching behind the maid’s shoulder, only my eyes watching.

He frowned, puzzled.

The maid patted my head: “Zhixia, speak. I’m here.”

Swallowing, I mumbled: “No more hitting… let me eat… lots of food… more than I can eat…”

She turned, comforting: “Don’t worry, you’ll have endless food.”

She relayed my words to the wolf.

“Yes,” he affirmed.

I blinked: “Really?”

“Really,” he said softly.

His oppressive aura lingered.
I couldn’t trust him.
If things went wrong, I’d flee—hell outside was better than the mansion.

I felt pathetic.
Five years alone, no parents, no support.
When trouble came, I couldn’t fight—only dodge, endure, escape.

I longed for someone to protect me, but Grandma, my shield, was gone.