Innate Coldness

When Mu Qingcheng left the riding arena alone, she caught a glimpse of a figure in the corner. The girl wore the academy uniform, her frame so slender it seemed fragile. There was also an injury on her leg.

The students in this academy were always huddled together; only she herself seemed to prefer solitude. Now, seeing this familiar scene, Mu Qingcheng hesitated.

She was just thinking of approaching to speak when two car honks sounded.

Beep beep—

“Second Brother?”

Mu Qingcheng turned around and saw Mu Qingfu, who had brought her here, now standing at the entrance.

“Qingcheng, I've come to take you home,” he said, stepping out of the car. His delicate features softened with a smile as he walked over to her and gently ruffled her hair.

“All right, then we—” But before Mu Qingcheng could finish, she noticed her brother's gaze drifting past her.

At the same time, Mu Qingfu frowned slightly and said, “Wait for me.”

With that, he walked away.

“Do they know each other?” Mu Qingcheng wondered, watching as her brother strode straight toward the figure in the corner.

The frail-looking girl happened to lift her head just then. Her expression was cold to the extreme, and after a brief glance at Mu Qingcheng, she looked away, fixing her eyes on Mu Qingfu instead.

Mu Qingfu spoke with her, though Mu Qingcheng could not hear what was said. The girl simply shook her head, her face never betraying a trace of emotion.

The chill emanating from this girl was different from others—it was not a kind of self-restraint or reservedness, but something more innate, an utter lack of feeling, an absence of sensation.

Whatever Mu Qingfu had asked, the girl declined. In a moment, she pushed her bicycle and left. Mu Qingfu stood there, a trace of frustration on his face, until the girl disappeared completely. Only then did he return to Mu Qingcheng’s side.

“Second Brother, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s nothing. Let’s go home,” Mu Qingfu replied, saying little more, but the tight line of his lips betrayed his true feelings.

The ride home was silent.

When Mu Qingcheng returned to the Mu residence, the old master was sitting in the living room, sipping tea. Seeing his beloved granddaughter enter, he smiled and beckoned her over.

“Qingcheng, you’re back. Come, tell Grandpa—how did the competition go today?”

Mu Qingcheng walked over and, after a moment’s thought, decided not to mention that Ran Siya had tried to give her trouble earlier. First, she could handle it herself. Second, she didn’t much care about the family’s concern.

“It went well, everything was smooth.”

“No one caused any trouble for you?”

“No, it was all smooth.”

“Good, good, that’s good.” The old master finally relaxed. But remembering someone’s fussing all morning, his face soured and he grumbled, “That little rascal made a scene for nothing this morning, hmph!”

Mu Qingcheng knew he was talking about Mu Jingchi. Yet her overly enthusiastic third brother was not here now, which surprised her. Since her grandfather brought him up, she followed his lead and asked, “Where’s Third Brother? Why isn’t he here?”

“There was an urgent matter at the company, so he was called back. Otherwise, would we be enjoying this rare peace and quiet?”

“Oh. I’ll go upstairs to change, then.”

“All right, I’ll have someone call you down for dinner soon.”

“Okay.” Mu Qingcheng nodded, rose, and went upstairs.

Across from her, Mu Qingfu watched his sister’s retreating figure, his gaze darkening. After a moment, he stood as well. “Grandpa, I’ll go rest in my room for a bit.”

“Are you feeling unwell? Should I call Dr. Chen to check on you?”

“No, I’m fine,” Mu Qingfu waved his hand, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes at his grandfather’s excessive concern. He was beginning to regret staying for dinner.

Upstairs, Mu Qingcheng had just reached her room and hadn’t yet changed clothes when she received a call—from an unfamiliar number.