Chapter 1.8

Seated in the back, Xi Lian's posture was slightly stiff, but it didn't raise any suspicion—after all, the original Xi Lian had always been reserved around his family.

Xi Ran drove smoothly, his gaze briefly shifting sideways to his younger brother, who sat silently, absentmindedly staring out of the window.

Their interactions had always been minimal. With the age gap between them and Xi Ran's naturally distant personality, there was little common ground for conversation.

The ride home wasn't long—just about an hour. As Xi Lian stepped out of the car, he found himself staring absentmindedly at the grand villa before him.

By the time Xi Ran returned after parking in the garage, he noticed his younger brother still standing at the doorstep, motionless.

As they entered the hall, the first to notice them was an elegant woman dressed in a peach-colored cheongsam with a subtle slit. A moment later, a middle-aged man in a tailored blue suit glanced up from his documents before returning his attention to them.

Xi Lian recognized them immediately—Xi Wei and Lin Yue, the parents of this body.

Yet, as he looked at them, a strange feeling of familiarity settled in his chest. It was the same feeling he had when he first saw Xi Ran.

Sensing the shift in his emotions, the system, usually indifferent, broke the silence. "Host, that feeling comes from the memories you inherited from the original Xi Lian."

Xi Lian lowered his gaze, his fingers unconsciously curling at his sides.

Memories, huh?

Shaking off the strange heaviness settling in his chest, Xi Lian lowered his head slightly, pushing aside the unfamiliar emotions.

"Xi Ran and… Xi Lian, you should freshen up. Dinner will be ready soon," Lin Yue said gracefully. Yet, Xi Lian didn't miss the subtle hesitation in her voice when she spoke his name.

"Okay, Mom," Xi Ran replied casually before heading toward the stairs, his footsteps steady and unhurried.

Xi Lian remained still for a moment, his gaze flickering toward Lin Yue. A faint sourness welled up in his chest at the hesitation in her voice.

Without a word, he turned and walked toward his past room—the space that once belonged to him yet felt unfamiliar.

"System," he asked, his voice quiet, "is the original Xi Lian's soul still in this body?"

The system was silent for a brief moment before responding in its usual indifferent tone, "Yes, host. But the soul lacks the power to take control of the body. Its presence is weak."

Xi Lian didn't say anything and simply walked toward the wardrobe. Inside, a few sets of clothes remained—the ones the original Xi Lian had left behind during his last visit.

After washing up, he glanced around the room. There was no sense of belonging here. Everything remained the same as it had been years ago—decorated in shades of blue and white, a color scheme chosen when Xi Lian was still a child.

In the hall, Lin Yue was still thinking about the subtle moisture in Xi Lian's eyes. A pang of sadness filled her as she reflected on the stiff, distant atmosphere between them.

When he was born, the company had been at its busiest, leaving her and her husband with little time to care for him. She hadn't wanted to leave him entirely in the hands of a nanny, so when her sister-in-law suggested an alternative, she had agreed without much hesitation.

Since the busiest period had passed, she had wanted to bring him back. However, knowing her son's timid nature, she feared that uprooting him into an unfamiliar environment might disrupt his studies.

The sound of footsteps pulled her back to the present. She looked up to see a slim figure making his way toward the dinner table.

During dinner, as usual, his father inquired about his well-being and academic performance.

Thinking about how the original Xi Lian had to face these same two questions every time he came home, Xi Lian felt that his own indifference was a better shield—at least it kept him from being hurt the same way.

There was a time when the original Xi Lian had studied tirelessly, believing that if he achieved better results, his parents would be pleased and talk to him more. But in the end, all he ever received were those same two questions. The realization had left him disheartened, and from that moment on, he had stopped trying.

Seeing his younger son remain silent, Father Xi felt a rare moment of unease. He wasn't good at expressing emotions, and comforting words didn't come naturally to him. So, he could only resort to these same questions—his only way of trying to converse with his son.

Seeing her husband's expression, Lin Yue felt a deep sense of helplessness. Xi Ran had inherited his father's personality—resolute and straightforward—but Xi Lian was different. He kept his emotions bottled up, making it hard for her to understand what he was thinking. It worried her more than she could admit.

The dinner ended in the same distant silence, and soon, everyone retired for the night.