​​Chapter 3: The Truth Unfolds​

​It seems my parents inheriting my grandfather’s estate was a lie.
My brother had deceived me.

My uncle took out another stack of documents from his bag—my parents’ death certificates. Among them was the police report, which stated that my parents had died by suicide. There were dozens of pages, all meticulously detailed.

After reviewing everything, it appeared my uncle had nothing to do with their deaths.

“Qiqi, I know you’re skeptical, so I brought all these materials specifically for you,” my uncle said, proving his thoughtfulness.

Faced with the pile of evidence on the table, I finally believed him.

“Uncle, I’m sorry. I misunderstood you.” I bowed deeply, sincerely apologizing.

He then explained that he had initially wanted to take over as the manager of the farm—it was where he planned to retire and live out his days. However, the owner of the company he worked for was like a sworn brother to him, so he stayed on as vice president to help. In a couple of years, he’d return to the farm—his roots.

“Uncle, there’s one last question weighing on me,” I confessed.

“Is your boss’s son’s blood type the same as mine?”

“No!” he answered firmly. “Your rare Rh-negative blood is the only one of its kind in our entire province. How could that Shi Lei share the same type?”

Hearing this, I sighed in relief. Everything had been a lie fabricated by my brother.

My uncle offered to have his boss and Shi Lei visit the next day so I could witness a blood test myself, dispelling any lingering doubts.

“No need. I trust you completely now,” I said with a smile.

He was right—he was my only family left in this world. The brother locked in the basement was actually the son of my uncle’s comrade-in-arms, unrelated to me by blood. We had only pretended to be siblings.

Since my uncle had never married, he told me I would be the one to care for him in his old age.

The next day, his boss and Shi Lei arrived as promised.

Shi Lei was tall, slender, and reserved. My uncle explained that he was my age, working in the family business after college.

The boss warmly handed me a jade pendant as an early birthday gift.

“Thank you, Uncle!” I accepted it graciously—more for my uncle’s sake than my own.

Shi Lei then presented a delicate silver cricket figurine, its antennae raised and wings slightly spread, lifelike and adorable.

“I love crickets! How did you know?” I asked, delighted.

“I used to love cricket fights as a kid,” he replied with a smile. “Your uncle mentioned your fondness for them, so I decided to part with this one.”

Ah, so my uncle had tipped him off.

Jokingly, my uncle remarked that Shi Lei and I looked like a perfect match and suggested we spend time together.

Lunch was lively. Afterward, my uncle and the boss excused themselves, leaving Shi Lei and me alone.

I didn’t dislike him—not because he was handsome, but because I had an ulterior motive: confirming his blood type.

Though my uncle had assured me a blood test wasn’t necessary, I wasn’t fully convinced. I needed proof.

Pretending to be friendly, I asked Shi Lei which hospital he’d go to if he fell ill. Once I had the name, I smiled inwardly.

Before parting, Shi Lei added me on WeChat, saying, “Being with you feels like finding a kindred spirit.”

I laughed it off. My only thought was rushing to the hospital to investigate his blood type.

Later, while my uncle was out, I returned to the basement, furious at my brother for lying to me.

But he was gone.

The door was open, the room empty.

Panicked, I questioned the mute servant, but his gestures told me nothing. I suspected he knew but was hiding the truth—or following my uncle’s orders.

The villa had three floors, two courtyards, and over twenty rooms. Frantically, I checked each one, banging on doors, but all were locked.

If my brother were inside, he would’ve responded.

Had my uncle killed him? Impossible—he was his comrade’s son. My uncle valued loyalty too much for that.

That night, I stealthily followed the mute servant. If my brother was still here, he’d be fed.

Sure enough, the servant carried a meal to the backyard, lifted a manhole cover, and unlocked an underground cellar.

Peering down, I saw faint light and heard chains rattling—and my brother’s hoarse shouts.

After the servant left, I retrieved the hidden key, opened the cellar, and descended.

My brother’s face lit up when he saw me.

“Sis! You’re here! I thought I’d never see you again!” He nearly wept.

I glared coldly.

“This is the last time. I’m never coming back.”

Shocked, he asked why.

“You lied! You said Uncle killed our parents, but the police report confirms it was suicide. You claimed he wanted my blood for his boss’s son—another lie! Their blood types don’t match. What’s your real motive?”

My anger grew.

“I was going to call the police to free you. But now? You’re just a pathological liar. Uncle was right—you belong locked up.”

With that, I turned and climbed back up, leaving him behind.