The house was eerily quiet at midnight, with the only sound being the rhythmic clapper-beats of the night watchman that would abruptly sound every quarter of an hour.

Zheng Wanqing walked barefoot on the teak floor and walked quietly to the study.

The door of the study was half open. She pushed it open gently, and the copper hinges made a slight creaking sound.

Zheng Yuheng was wiping a stethoscope under the lamp, the metal surface glowing coldly under the lamp. "I knew you would come." Without even looking up, he put the stethoscope into the sandalwood medical box and closed the copper buckle with a click.

At this time, he had already taken off his straight suit jacket that he wore every day. The cuffs of his snow-white shirt were casually rolled up to his elbows. His collar was slightly open, revealing his strong collarbone. His whole body exuded a sense of casualness and unruliness.

Zheng Wanqing locked the door with her backhand, and the hem of her silk nightgown swept across the carpet, making a slight rustling sound. "Where did that Xie Yun come from?"

Zheng Yuheng did not answer immediately. He took a glass of red wine from the side and handed it to Zheng Wanqing, "Sit down first."

Zheng Wanqing took the wine, and he slowly spoke: "He is a favorite of Chief Liu, and he is also the governor stationed in Tianjin."

At this point, he paused for a moment, "His mother died early, and two years ago, his father Xie Cheng passed away, and then he naturally took over the military power. Xie Cheng was a veteran who followed General Liu to build the country. Therefore, everyone habitually called Xie Yun the young marshal.

He led troops to suppress the student movement in front of the Japanese consulate that year, and it was because of that suppression that he was appreciated and promoted by General Liu.

Upon hearing this, Zheng Wanqing raised her head and drank the wine in the glass in one gulp.

The bubbles burst quickly in her throat, and the stinging feeling made her feel dazed for a moment, as if she had returned to that day.

The cold water column rushed over the crowd like a ferocious beast, and mud and blood splashed on the hem of her skirt. The scene of chaos and fear appeared in her mind like a nightmare.

"Is the situation with the compradors bad now?" she asked softly, her fingertips slowly turning the empty cup.

Zheng Yuheng looked at his sister, a trace of heartache flashed in his eyes. He silently added wine to her cup and said, "I just want to hear your thoughts."

Zheng Wanqing was silent for a moment, then slowly smiled, with a hint of determination and firmness in her smile, "If this marriage can help my family and my brother," she gently shook the glass, and the wine in the glass rippled, "I don't care."

She brought the glass to her lips but did not drink it. She whispered, "My father Marseille met Uncle Chen's nephew."

When Zheng Yuheng heard this, his pupils shrank instantly, and a trace of surprise and nervousness flashed in his eyes: "He's still alive?"

"Well, I escaped after the revolution failed." She traced a circle along the rim of the cup with her fingertips. "Now I'm waiting for the right time."

"Wanqing, as your brother, I certainly don't want to do this," Zheng Yuheng frowned, his eyes full of reluctance and love. He was interrupted by her before he could finish his words.

"Brother," she stretched out her hand, held his hand with her backhand, and looked at him firmly, "You know what I want. The identity of the young marshal's wife will be useful to us."

Zheng Wanqing gently pushed the hair on her face behind her ears, trying to ease the atmosphere, and said half-jokingly: "I didn't expect that my sister would enter the marriage hall before you."

"Indeed, to me, you are still a child." He stroked Zheng Wanqing's hair gently.

She raised her head and looked at Zheng Yuheng earnestly, "Brother, you are already an adult. I hope I can call Sister Xiao my sister-in-law soon."

Zheng Yuheng's Adam's apple rolled involuntarily, and he turned his face away, not daring to look at his sister.

Outside the window, the night watchman's gong sounded again, and in the silent night, it seemed to strike at his heart.

"A person like me will only delay her." His voice was low, with a hint of helplessness and bitterness, and the suppressed emotions in his heart were like a tangled mess.