Is It Really That Hard to Be the Big Brother of Two Top-Alpha Twins? - Chapter 13

For the next two weekends, Jiang Ling didn’t speak to Chen Luan, deliberately avoiding him whenever he saw him.
This made Chen Luan wonder what he had done to upset this troublemaker.
This continued until Monday morning.
As usual, Chen Luan finished his morning exercise, showered, and went downstairs for breakfast wearing a tank top and shorts.
Jiang Ling was still reluctant to face Chen Luan because of the dream he’d had, but when he looked up, he saw Chen Luan standing before him — soaked through.
The tight sports vest clung to his body, outlining the sharp contours of his muscles and a smooth, narrow waistline. His knee-length shorts revealed a pair of long, straight legs.
His half-wet hair was carelessly swept back, with a few damp strands falling over his brows. Even the corners of his eyes seemed to shimmer faintly with moisture.
Jiang Ling couldn’t help recalling Chen Luan’s wet eyes in that dream — and the feel of his fingers brushing against Chen Luan’s supple lower back.
If it were really him…
Would it feel any different to touch?
Startled by his own thoughts, he quickly shook his head, cursing under his breath as he tried to chase away the chaotic images.
“Hey, can you at least put on some proper clothes before coming downstairs?” Jiang Ling muttered, lightly kicking the leg of Chen Luan’s chair.
“?” Chen Luan looked down at himself.
What was wrong with his outfit? It was just a normal tracksuit.
Was this brat looking for trouble again?
“Are you running a fever?” Chen Luan reached out to touch Jiang Ling’s forehead.
Snap—
Jiang Ling grabbed his wrist, the veins on his hand faintly visible. For an instant, his heart seemed to leap up into his throat.
Noticing his dazed expression, Chen Luan tried to pull his hand back but couldn’t. “Hmm?”
Jiang Ling snapped out of it like a startled cat, quickly shaking off his hand. “…I’m full! I’m leaving!”
“What’s wrong with you?” Chen Luan asked, baffled.
Jiang Xun, calm as ever, cleared the dishes and picked up his schoolbag. As he walked past Chen Luan, he said with an utterly straight face:
“He’s been poisoned.”
“?”
But the two had already gone, leaving Chen Luan standing there, utterly confused.
Later that noon, at school, Chen Luan received a last-minute notice.
The military academy’s medical department had been giving a series of first-aid lectures, and that afternoon, it was Yuqing Middle School in Sheng’an District’s turn.
One of the teaching assistants had taken leave, so Chen Luan was asked to fill in.
Chen Luan almost burst out laughing when he saw the school’s name.
Oh? Isn’t this where his family’s “No Hat” and “Unhappy” kids go?
During the afternoon lecture, while his colleagues waited for the props to be set up and the students lined up neatly below the stage, Chen Luan easily spotted Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling standing together at the back — shining like beacons in the crowd.
Before the lecture began, Chen Luan slipped away under a pretext.
At that moment, Jiang Ling had an earphone in and was leaning close to Jiang Xun, whispering something.
Jiang Xun’s face remained calm, only giving the occasional quiet response.
Chen Luan silently circled behind them. Then, before they could react, he hooked an arm around each of their shoulders and pulled them both into his arms.
“Surprise!”
“Holy crap!” Jiang Ling jerked in shock, one earphone falling off. He spun around and came face-to-face with Chen Luan’s bright grin. “Chen Luan?!”
Jiang Xun lowered his eyes and stayed silent.
“So? Surprised to see your brother? Happy?” Chen Luan teased, shaking their shoulders.
“Thanks for the invitation, but I’m not happy — just shocked. Are you a ghost? You scared me half to death!” Jiang Ling threw his arm off. “Why are you here? I don’t remember your name being on the list.”
“Teaching Assistant Liu had to take last-minute leave, so I filled in,” Chen Luan said, flashing his work badge. “But Jiang Xun, you don’t look surprised at all. Aren’t you happy to see your brother?”
Jiang Xun didn’t push him away. He simply glanced at his hand resting on his shoulder and said calmly, “I already saw you earlier — handing out lollipops to everyone backstage.”
“What do you mean, everyone? I only gave some to a few colleagues,” Chen Luan said defensively, pulling a few candies from his pocket — one orange and two strawberry flavors.
He unwrapped a strawberry and popped it into his mouth. “Setting up props takes forever. It’s boring just standing around. Here, wants some candy?”
“Do you think we’re three-year-olds, Chen Luan?” Jiang Ling looked at the candies with disdain.
“No refusal means yes.” Chen Luan shoved the strawberry-flavored candy into Jiang Ling’s hand.
“I don’t want a strawberry.” Jiang Ling frowned at the pink wrapper and handed it to Jiang Xun instead.
Jiang Xun accepted it without a word.
Chen Luan, still chewing, raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Picky, huh? Fine — orange for you, strawberry for your brother.”
“Brother Luan! Brother Luan — over here!”
A voice called from behind. Chen Luan turned, smiling.
It was the same kid who had asked him to teach him basketball the other day.
“Brother Luan, are you here as an assistant today?” the boy asked, leaning in eagerly.
“Yeah, I got drafted at the last minute. Bored waiting down there? Here, have some candy.”
“More candy?! Hehe, thanks, Brother Luan.” The boy happily took the candy, pointing toward where he’d come from. “Are there more, Brother? Can I get some for my friends too?”
“Yes.” Chen Luan glanced in that direction — a few little heads were peeking out; all familiar faces he’d probably played ball with before. With a flick of his wrist, he magically produced another handful of candy from his pocket. “Plenty more. Go share.”
“Okay! Thanks, Brother~” The child cheered, clutching the candy as he ran off, turning back halfway to wave. “Let’s play ball again sometime, Brother!”
“Sure.”
The two — one tall, one small — chatted cheerfully for a while.
Chen Luan didn’t notice Jiang Xun, standing a short distance away, clenching the candy in his hand, a faint trace of displeasure flickering in his eyes.
Soon, the props were ready. Chen Luan saw his colleagues waving for him to return, so he said goodbye to the twins and went back to the stage.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xun stared at the unopened candy in his hand. His mind replayed the image of that boy running off happily with a handful of the same candy.
A moment later, he walked to the trash can and tossed the candy in without hesitation.
On stage, the first-aid lecture combined theory and demonstration.
When the speaker called for students to volunteer, he somehow managed to pick the two most striking ones — Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling.
Several other students joined as well.
Chen Luan, standing among the teaching assistants, blinked expectantly, hoping his two younger “classmates” would choose him as their partner.
After all, physical contact was inevitable during demonstrations, and it’d be less awkward with someone he knew.
But as Jiang Xun passed by, he didn’t even glance at Chen Luan — simply brushed past him with cold indifference.
Confused, Chen Luan turned to Jiang Ling.
Jiang Ling: “…”
Jiang Ling: “Forget it.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Jiang Ling finally stepped in front of Chen Luan with a sour face.
The exercise was to practice bandaging in pairs. The assistants demonstrated first.
Chen Luan moved with practiced ease — among all the assistants, he was the quickest and neatest.
When it came time for the triangular bandage used for head wounds, Jiang Ling frowned at the wrinkled cloth in disgust.
He could hardly accept something like that being wrapped around his head. So, when Chen Luan approached with the bandage, Jiang Ling instinctively flinched back.
“Don’t move.”
Jiang Ling froze as Chen Luan’s voice came close to his ear, and two cool fingers pinched his chin lightly.
From this angle, he could see Chen Luan’s throat moving as he spoke, could feel the faint warmth of his breath against his forehead.
So much so that he didn’t catch a single word of Chen Luan’s explanation about the bandaging technique.
Instead, a strange, restless heat welled up inside him. Just as he was about to frown and push Chen Luan away, the pressure in front of him disappeared.
Chen Luan had already finished and removed the bandage.
Oddly, Jiang Ling felt a faint… emptiness.
“What are you spacing out for? Did you even listen to me? It’s your turn now.” Chen Luan tapped him lightly on the head.
“Okay, okay.”
But when Jiang Ling actually held the triangular bandage and saw Chen Luan sitting before him, looking up, waiting — that same restless feeling returned.
Like the cicadas humming outside the window on a summer day — impossible to silence, impossible to ignore — it buzzed endlessly in his chest.
“Hurry up. Don’t tell me you forgot already?” Chen Luan crossed his arms, remembering the ugly knot Jiang Ling had tied on his arm last time.
Honestly, he didn’t have much faith in his bandaging skills.
“Stop talking!” Jiang Ling muttered. After fumbling with the cloth for a long time, he gave up and simply pressed Chen Luan’s head down, wrapping it carelessly.
“Hey! Jiang Ling! I can’t see!” Chen Luan protested as the cloth slipped over his eyes. He reached out blindly, trying to steady Jiang Ling’s hand.
“Just make it look decent. You’re not actually injured.” Jiang Ling dodged his hand, but Chen Luan’s fingertips almost brushed his chin. Reflexively, Jiang Ling caught his wrist.
That familiar touch again — firm yet cool — the same sensation from before.
“I knew you weren’t paying attention. Let go. Watch carefully, I’ll teach you.”
Chen Luan guided Jiang Ling’s hand, his tone calm as he explained and demonstrated.
He didn’t hear the faint quickening of the boy’s heartbeat in front of him — nor did he notice Jiang Xun’s quiet gaze from a few meters away.
The young man in a clean, light-gray shirt sat on the stool, head slightly tilted back, holding the wrist of the boy who stood before him as he demonstrated.
From Jiang Xun’s distance and angle, it looked almost like an embrace.
The boy, however, looked down at him — his eyes unconsciously following the movement of his lips as he spoke.
Jiang Xun watched as their hands brushed again and again, and suddenly, his brother — the same one he’d grown up with since birth — seemed somehow…
an eyesore.
A flicker of regret crossed his mind for the outburst he’d had toward Chen Luan earlier.
As if sensing his gaze, Jiang Ling suddenly looked up.
For a brief instant, their eyes met.
Then both looked away — as if perfectly understanding what the other was thinking.
No one understands twin brothers better than the twins themselves.
And Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling were no exception.