Is It Really That Hard to Be the Big Brother of Two Top-Alpha Twins? - Chapter 10

Chen Luan stared at the crooked letters “JMM” engraved on the rifle and, for a moment, swore he could hear cicadas from some long-ago summer.
“You—Chen Xiaoluan!! You touched my gun again!!”
The girl, just turned twenty-two, kicked the door open and grabbed fourteen-year-old Chen Luan by the ear.
“Ouch! Ouch! Mingming—Sister Mingming! It hurts!” Chen Luan grimaced, trying to pry her hand away.
“How many times have I told you not to touch the rifle I adjusted? Re-adjusting it is a pain.”
Jiang Mingming let go of his ear and slapped the top of his head. “If you want to learn heavy sniping, join the team next year when you turn fifteen. I’ll train you myself.”
Chen Luan scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “I can’t join your team, Sister Mingming.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“I was picked for the mecha unit. I’ll be piloting mechas next year.”
Jiang Mingming paused for a beat, then fell silent for two seconds.
“The mech team… that team…”
“I know, sis. I heard their casualty rate’s high.” Chen Luan hopped up onto the table and dangled his legs over the edge. “But I’m not afraid. Of all of us taking the test, I’m the only one who can get the A+. One more A+ on the battlefield might mean fewer deaths for your squad. I’ll break through the armor with a mech, and you can snipe. We’ll wipe out the beasts together!”
“All right, all right, you’re amazing—my hero!” Jiang Mingming pinched his cheek. “Get down from there—what kind of posture is that, sitting on the table?”
“Sister Mingming, didn’t you notice anything different about your rifle?”
“I noticed it right away.” Jiang Mingming rolled her eyes. “Chen Luan, can you please learn to write neatly? Even carving three simple English letters looks like a cockroach’s scratch.”
“Didn’t you say those careless jerks always take the wrong gun? I even marked it for you, and you still complained about my handwriting! I’m ignoring you.”
“Okay, sorry, I apologize, alright? I shouldn’t have said your handwriting looked like cockroaches.”
“Hmph, what are you going to do to make it up to me? I want chocolate!”
“Chen Luan, you’ve been eyeing the chocolate I brought back the other day, haven’t you! …Here, this is all that’s left. Eat it slowly — don’t finish it all at once. The next supply from the resource department won’t come until next month.”
“Hehe, thank you, Sister Mingming! You’re the best!”
“Stop being so cheeky.”
…
Later, while piloting his mech, Chen Luan really did manage to break through Jiang Mingming’s armor. The two partnered for five years, slaying countless wild beasts together.
But when Chen Luan was twenty-three, everything came to an abrupt end.
Jiang Mingming died.
Not even her body remained — only pools of bl00d, shattered bones, and her sidearm.
Under the gun’s butt was half a piece of chocolate, with a bite taken out of it.
After the soldier’s death, her firearm was confiscated. Since the model was outdated, it was stored away in a warehouse and never circulated again.
Chen Luan never saw Jiang Mingming’s gun again.
He never imagined he would see it here — even after two hundred years had passed.
He spent an afternoon shooting with Wu Ning at the club, and by the time they finished, it was already getting dark.
Wu Ning looked radiant and alluring, but in truth, she was a passionate, cheerful girl — wild when she wanted to have fun, sometimes reminding him of Jiang Mingming.
Wu Ning also liked Chen Luan, partly because she felt she’d finally found a kindred spirit, partly because she found him deeply attractive — and also because he was genuinely skilled with guns, especially antiques, which he seemed to know a great deal about.
That was very much to Wu Ning’s liking, given her sharp eye for firearms.
She handed Chen Luan a premium membership card. “Come by anytime you want to shoot — you’re always welcome.”
Then she brought out a half-arm-length box from the lounge. “This is for you. I can tell you really like that gun, but it’s my prized possession, and I can’t bear to give it away. So… this is for you instead.”
“What’s this?”
The moment Chen Luan opened it, his pupils contracted.
It was Jiang Mingming’s gun — or rather, a scaled-down model, crafted in such exquisite detail that even the three engraved letters on the stock were crystal clear.
A faint sting rose in his nose. Chen Luan looked up at Wu Ning.
“No, no, no, don’t cry! I can’t bear to see a beauty cry. It’s just a model — no need to be so moved!”
Startled, Wu Ning quickly reached out and patted Chen Luan’s head.
Chen Luan lowered his eyes, discreetly wiping them, then looked up with a bright, star-like smile. “Thank you, Sister Ning.”
“It’s nothing! Next time I find something fun, I’ll invite you over to test it!”
“Okay.”
In the car, with the model on his lap, Zhou Pei smiled helplessly.
“I didn’t expect you and Wu Ning to get along so well.”
He had wanted to spend some time alone with Chen Luan, but Chen Luan had spent the whole afternoon with Wu Ning instead. He probably should have picked a different activity.
“She’s very nice,” Chen Luan said, stroking the model in his hand.
Are Zhou Pei and Wu Ning good friends? Wu Ning seemed to know quite a bit about the Zhou family.
As if sensing Chen Luan’s curiosity, Zhou Pei said, after a pause, “We used to be engaged.”
Chen Luan looked up. “?”
“It was when we were kids. My father arranged it with her grandmother,” Zhou Pei said with a shake of his head. “She never liked me — said I wasn’t her type. Later, when we both differentiated into alphas, that was that.”
Chen Luan: “…” Another wealthy family’s arranged marriage story.
“Oh, and when she found out the engagement was off, she was so happy she booked an entire bar for three days — and even invited me.”
Chen Luan couldn’t help but laugh.
That sounded exactly like something Wu Ning would do.
A sudden ringtone interrupted their conversation.
Zhou Pei apologized and answered the call.
A near-eerie wailing suddenly filled the car:
“Waaaaaahh…”
Chen Luan glanced at Zhou Pei, who looked thoroughly exasperated, his expression dark.
“Do you often have to clean up your brother’s messes? You seem pretty good at it.”
“Are you laughing?” Zhou Pei gripped the steering wheel and gave him a look.
“No, my teeth just feel hot.”
“Yes. It’s been like this for years. I’m used to it.” Zhou Pei sighed, the sound heavy with resignation.
“How did he—?” Chen Luan gestured vaguely.
The two brothers couldn’t have been more different.
At least on the surface, Zhou Pei was a decent man — composed, responsible, normal.
Zhou Jing, on the other hand… tsk.
“Our parents are always busy with the company. They didn’t have time for him. I studied in Mingcuizhou, and he was raised by our grandparents.”
“I see.”
Overindulgence by grandparents — that explains it.
When their car finally reached the bar, the crowd had long since dispersed.
Only the wrecked interior remained — the bar in ruins, and the manager sitting amid the mess, on the verge of tears.
Zhou Pei took a deep breath. “I’ll cover the damages. But where are they now?”
The shop manager wiped his face, looking distressed. “The police took him away.”
The two rushed to the police station.
“Zhou Jing’s family?”
“Yes.” Zhou Pei seemed very familiar with the procedures.
“Has Jiang Xun’s guardian arrived?”
“Yes. Jiang Ling is from our family, too.”
The officer glanced at Chen Luan. “And your relationship?”
“I’m his brother.”
“Alright, you can come with me as well.”
So, while Jiang Xun, Jiang Ling, and Zhou Jing—each with varying degrees of bruises on their faces and bodies—stood facing one another across the table, Zhou Pei and Chen Luan appeared one after the other in front of them.
“…Brother.” Zhou Jing’s arrogance visibly shrank when he saw Zhou Pei. Then his eyes widened when he spotted Chen Luan behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Jiang Ling’s expression soured the moment he noticed Chen Luan walking in with Zhou Pei. “And what’s with that suffocating perfume? Where’ve you been fooling around with other women again?”
Jiang Xun sat beside him, a bit of bl00d still at the corner of his mouth, eyes downcast and silent.
Chen Luan leaned against the door, arms crossed. “If I didn’t come, who exactly were you planning to send? Director Jiang, who’s all the way in Erhuaqinzhou? Or his wife, who’s been hiding in that little building for years and never shows her face? Come to think of it, shouldn’t school still be in session?”
“Mind your own business.” Jiang Ling turned his head away, refusing to look at him. “What, are you here to interrogate me?”
“No, not at all.” Chen Luan pulled out a chair beside him, sat down, rested his chin on one hand, and smiled.
“I just wanted to ask—did you two win?”
At that, not only Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling but even the Zhou brothers turned to stare at him.
Chen Luan dropped his arm, shifted his posture, crossed his legs, leaned back in his chair, and pointed at the twins. “Don’t tell me you two couldn’t beat him. That’d be embarrassing.”
“How could that be!” Jiang Ling’s eyes widened. He slapped away Chen Luan’s finger that nearly touched his forehead. “I could take both of them myself! It’s just that they don’t know any martial arts and ganged up on us—that’s how we got hurt!”
“Jiang Ling, you little—!” Zhou Jing, sitting across from him, felt insulted and shot to his feet in anger.
“And you—what’s that supposed to mean, ‘you’?” Chen Luan turned toward Zhou Jing, raising an eyebrow. “You’re twenty years old, picking fights with high school kids. Don’t you think it’s shameful to win—and even more shameful to lose? If I were you, I’d be so embarrassed I’d find a noodle and hang myself outside.”
“Chen Luan, you—!” Zhou Jing’s face flushed red as he lunged forward.
Just then, the police officer walked in.
“What do you think you’re doing? Sit down.”
Zhou Jing, still halfway to his feet, froze under Zhou Pei’s glare and sat back down with a resentful expression.
“Now, tell me,” The officer said, “what happened? Why were you fighting?”