The moment the truth about my status as a fake young master was laid bare, the suffocating facade my six sisters had maintained shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. They stopped pretending altogether, and left me trapped in a house that had become both a sanctuary and a prison.
My eldest sister began summoning me to her private quarters every single night, under the guise of discussing the complexities of existence — though her lingering gaze and the way she crowded my personal space suggested she was interested in a far more intimate, carnal education.
My second sister, whose cold, clinical obsession frightened me to my core, insisted on injecting me with unknown, glowing substances that left my veins humming with a strange, foreign electricity. Meanwhile, my third sister abandoned her professional life entirely, walking away from the corporate world to stay home, obsessively scouring every corner of the estate to plant fabricated evidence that would frame the real young master — who, in his final, dying breaths, could never comprehend why his own sisters were so hopelessly fixated on a fraud like me rather than on their own flesh and blood.
The fragile equilibrium of our household was finally obliterated by a single announcement. A heavy silence descended upon the grand, gilded hall of the Du manor as everyone's eyes turned toward Du Nan, our patriarch, whose authoritative presence usually commanded respect, but today felt like a death knell. He cleared his throat, his expression unreadable as he declared that after deep contemplation, he had decided it was time for me to enter into an arranged marriage with Fang Baobao, the heiress of the powerful Fang family.
The moment the words left his lips, the ambient temperature of the hall seemed to plummet, freezing the very air in my lungs. My fifth sister, Du Lizhi, was the first to react, slamming her hand against the table and springing to her feet to protest, her voice sharp with protective fury as she argued that I had only just turned eighteen, and that such a contract was reckless and absurd.
The patriarch attempted to interject with some platitude about love growing over time, but before he could finish, a sharp, thunderous clap echoed through the room as my fourth sister, Du Zi Yuan, stood up as well, her eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity as she declared that the Fang girl had an eccentric, volatile personality, and that I would inevitably be bullied in that house.
Before Du Nan could even formulate a rebuttal, two more loud bangs rang out in quick succession as my youngest sister, Du Sha, and my third sister, Du Lamei, rose in unison. Their synchronized rejection acted as a wall of defiance that left Du Nan visibly sweating, beads of perspiration rolling down his forehead as he realized, perhaps for the first time, that he was utterly powerless against the collective iron will of his own daughters.
Desperate to shift the suffocating pressure away from himself, he turned his gaze toward me, asking what I thought of the arrangement. In that agonizing second, I felt the combined weight of six pairs of eyes boring into my soul, sensing that the slightest misstep in my response would result in my immediate undoing. I felt my second sister's hand drift toward the soft flesh at my waist, Du Lala's grip tightening with the promise of a painful three-hundred-and-sixty-degree death twist if I dared utter the wrong word.
So I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird, and forced myself to speak, arguing with as much feigned diplomacy as I could muster that marriage should be built upon mutual affection rather than cold, calculated strategy.
The room fell deathly silent, the atmosphere thick with sudden, frantic internal calculations as each of my sisters began to measure herself against that criteria, realizing that they had all grown up alongside me, sharing memories and intimacy that the Fang heiress could never replicate. And as they exchanged sharp, electric glares, it was as if a dormant power struggle had suddenly ignited between them, fueled by their shared desire to keep me for themselves.
Du Nan, perhaps sensing the unraveling situation, let out a strained, awkward cough and produced a photograph of the Fang girl. In an instant, the tension transformed into a chaotic scramble as all six heads, including the sisters, crowded around in a desperate physical clash to see the image, nearly crushing my own skull in the process.
The girls began to bicker and claw at the photo, my eldest sister sneering that the girl looked far too mediocre to ever catch my eye, and the scene devolved into a flurry of movement and protest. Just as I shouted for them to stop, accidentally blurting out a complaint that I hadn't even seen the picture, I felt a soft, phantom sensation against my cheek — a furtive, stolen kiss that sent a jolt of alarm through me as I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I had just betrayed my own composure.
The room went still again, the realization of my slip-up hitting me like a physical blow. As I tried to cover the blunder with a frantic, awkward cough, I noticed my fourth sister, Du Zi Yuan, trembling, her eyes rimmed with a raw, desperate redness as she grit her teeth and whispered that she could fulfill that role, too.
A sudden, sharp realization dawned on my second sister, Du Lala, who immediately pounced on the idea, exclaiming that she was absolutely right, and that such a task should be handled by Zi Yuan, as having us around was more than enough for me. It was a sentiment that the other sisters began to parrot with sudden, frantic eagerness, leaving Zi Yuan standing there paralyzed, caught in a swirling vortex of confusion, where she couldn't decide whether to feel ecstatic at the prospect of claiming me or devastated by the implications of what she had just said.
Although the sisters acted as if they were merely shielding me from a disastrous alliance, a cold, gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach told me their true motives were far more possessive and complex than simple sisterly concern.
Du Nan glanced toward Du Zi Yuan with a weary, defeated sigh, explaining that while Fang Baobao had initially been fiercely resistant to the engagement, her attitude had inexplicably shifted, and she had personally demanded to marry me. He attempted to appeal to their logic, reminding them that an alliance with the Fang family would grant us access to unparalleled resources, but before the words could fully leave his mouth, my six sisters erupted in a chorus of absolute, unified rejection, their voices striking the air like a physical blow.
Du Nan looked as though he were on the verge of a mental collapse, his composure fracturing until he was forced to concede, telling us that regardless of their stubborn refusal, we were expected to meet the girl at the airport that afternoon, if only for the sake of basic social decorum.
I winced, feeling a fresh, searing agony in my waist where they had been digging their nails into my skin, and forced a stiff, painful smile, agreeing to the plan just to keep the peace. Immediately, my eldest sister, Du Qian, declared her intention to accompany me, and the rest of the sisters followed suit with alarming, synchronized enthusiasm, their eyes locking onto mine with territorial intent.