The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class

Chapter 152

In the quiet of the night, the servants wisely kept their distance, and the flickering lights in the room cast long shadows. The two brothers, who had always gotten along harmoniously, now stood at odds with each other.

Zong Jincheng's face was stern, devoid of either a smile or anger. He truly wanted to be furious, but he suddenly realized he couldn't muster the emotion, just as his elder brother had said.

His brother had taken his book.

On any other day, even if he didn’t resort to whining, he would have chased after him and snatched it back. But now, he was exhausted—his hands, feet, and even his mouth felt heavy. He didn’t want to move, let alone get angry.

And yet, his brother was still bullying him.

The little rascal’s eyes gradually reddened. Feeling wronged, he turned around and headed for the bed, determined to sleep. If he couldn’t read, he could at least recite the text silently in his mind—a trick his brother had once taught him.

Seeing this, Zong Wenxiu quickly went over to pull him back. “Jincheng, don’t be like this.”

Zong Jincheng shook off his hand. “I don’t need you to care about me.”

His strength was considerable, and it would have been easy to break free from someone unprepared. But Zong Wenxiu held on tightly, refusing to let go.

Softening his voice, Zong Wenxiu comforted him, “I know you’re upset. Anyone would be if they were outperformed. But Jincheng, it’s not your fault. You’ve just started studying late. It’s like a child who’s just learned to walk—how could they possibly outrun an adult? It’s an unfair comparison, not a normal way to measure progress.”

Zong Jincheng stood sideways, not responding, but his emotions had reached a breaking point. Tears began to fall, pattering like golden beads onto the floor.

The little troublemaker rarely cried. He was always stubborn and resilient, believing that tears were a sign of weakness and failure. Apart from the time Xu Wan had made him cry by smacking his hand, no one had seen him shed a tear.

Zong Wenxiu’s heart ached.

If it weren’t for their aunt’s reminder, he wouldn’t have known how much his little brother had been suffering.

Every day, his brother exuded confidence and boundless energy, making everyone assume he was mentally strong and capable of handling any setback.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

But they had all forgotten—this kid was only eight years old. He was still a child who would cry when he lost.

Zong Wenxiu hugged him, patting his back gently. “Cry if you need to. It’s better to let it out than to hold it in. Keeping it bottled up will only make you feel worse.”

The little rascal immediately protested, “Who’s like him?!”

Zong Wenxiu laughed.

His brother seemed to be recovering—he was getting feisty again.

He explained patiently, “You both have tempers. The only difference is that yours shows on your face, while his is hidden inside.”

The little rascal pouted. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

Zong Wenxiu chuckled. “For some reason, I feel like the two of you will become great friends in the future—the kind who admire each other deeply.”

The little rascal exploded, “No way! I’d never be friends with someone so cold, arrogant, and heartless! He’s the person I hate the most in the world, no question!”

Zong Wenxiu raised an eyebrow in surprise. “So, in your grudge book, has our aunt dropped from first place to second?”

He remembered his brother mentioning his list of grudges, where Qin Ye had previously ranked below their aunt.

The little rascal paused, then nodded firmly. “Yes, Qin Ye is now my most hated person!”

Zong Wenxiu couldn’t help but laugh.

But mentioning the grudge book made him feel like his childish little brother was truly back.

A good cry had indeed helped release his emotions.

And a good night’s sleep would help him forget the negativity.

The next morning, before Zong Wenxiu could even open his eyes, he felt his energetic little brother spring up from the bed and shout, “Down with Qin Ye!”

His voice was full of confidence, determination, and vitality.

Good. The proud little troublemaker was back to his usual self.