Is It Really That Hard to Be the Big Brother of Two Top-Alpha Twins? - Chapter 18

Jiang Yongting had never been a good father. His marriage to Li Junfu was nothing more than a transaction of self-interest.
He was an extreme egoist. He didn’t love Li Junfu—but she loved him deeply.
He accepted the marriage for the Li family’s political support.
Afterward, Jiang Yongting was often away for work, and the couple lived a cold, distant life. Li Junfu practically lived like a widow.
In the third year of their marriage, Li Junfu fell ill.
When Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling were seven years old, the military underwent a sudden reshuffling of power. Many people died that year, including Li Heqing, then deputy commander of the First Military Region—Li Junfu’s father. He was forced to resign and take a sinecure post, withdrawing completely from the center of power.
That same year, Li Junfu passed away.
The following year, to gain the support of the Zhang Group and the Beta Equality Organization, Jiang Yongting married Zhang Lingyi, the second daughter of the Zhang Group’s Beta, the current “Madam Jiang,” who claimed to be ill and rarely left home.
Even Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling had only seen her once, from afar, at the wedding. Through her white veil, they could hardly make out her face.
So now, Jiang Yongting’s concern for them was like expired arsenic—not only useless but fatally poisonous.
When the call connected, a middle-aged man in a suit appeared on the holographic screen, looking slightly haggard.
His features bore some resemblance to Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling, though both sons took more after their mother.
“Jiang Xun, Jiang Ling,” the man said after a moment of silence. “I heard your school was attacked.”
“It was,” Jiang Ling said flatly, wearing his headphones and playing a game without looking up. “You must be disappointed we didn’t die.”
“Jiang Ling!” The man on the screen immediately frowned. “Is this how you speak to your father? Where are your manners?!”
“Manners?” Jiang Ling finally looked up and tossed his game console aside, fury flashing in his eyes. “You’re talking to me about manners? Director Jiang, are you so busy you’ve lost your mind? You’re asking me for manners when you never even raised your children?”
The man’s face darkened. “Jiang Ling! I am your father! You can’t deny that!”
“You stopped being one on the day my mother died!” Jiang Ling’s voice trembled like that of a cornered wolf cub. “You didn’t come home when she was sick! You only came back for one day—for her funeral! Where were you when Jiang Xun and I were bullied by that bastard from the Zhou family and his gang? Do you even deserve to be called a father?”
The man’s lips trembled. After a long silence, he said stiffly, “Everything I did was for this family.”
Jiang Xun, who had been silent until now, set down the half-peeled apple in his hand and looked up calmly. “You can fool yourself with that excuse, but you’re only doing it for your career.”
At that moment, Jiang Yongting noticed the bandage wrapped around his son’s thigh. His pupils constricted.
“You’re hurt, Jiang Xun? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I won’t die,” Jiang Xun replied coolly. “What’s the point of telling you? Would you even come back?”
As expected, silence followed.
Jiang Xun lowered his eyes and smiled faintly. “That’s all, then. I’m hanging up… Father.”
He ended the call before Jiang Yongting could reply.
Silence filled the room.
Then Jiang Xun’s screen lit up again—a transfer notification. A large sum of money had been sent.
The note read: I won’t be home for a few months. Take this for now. If you need anything, tell Dad.
Jiang Ling glanced at the message and nearly burst out laughing.
After all these years, Jiang Yongting still hadn’t learned how to be a father.
All he ever knew was how to transfer money.
But did they lack money?
Their mother’s personal assets were already under their names, including the house they lived in.
Their maternal grandfather had also given each of them a bank card with regular monthly deposits.
Neither of them had ever touched a single cent of Jiang Yongting’s money.
He would never understand what they truly wanted—just as he would never understand how much their mother had once loved him.
As for Chen Luan,
He wasn’t even listed as part of Jiang Yongting’s family.
To Jiang Yongting, Chen Luan was merely a political pawn—a tool for securing votes.
In his mind, he had already fulfilled his duty by paying for Chen Luan’s elite schooling, giving him 5,000 yuan a month in living expenses, letting him use the Jiang surname, and allowing him to live in the Jiang residence.
Chen Luan’s university tuition and living costs—aside from the meager savings from earlier years—were all covered through tutoring and part-time jobs.
Otherwise, he might never have been able to afford college.
This was why, despite being the adopted son of a wealthy family, Chen Luan had always lived so frugally.
After that day, Jiang Yongting never called again—only appearing occasionally on the news as “Director Jiang.”
Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling grew used to it.
Their attitude toward Chen Luan changed significantly.
At least on the surface, they finally began to look like real brothers.
But only the two of them knew what was truly in their hearts.
On the day Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling started winter break, Chen Luan turned down a colleague’s dinner invitation and personally drove to pick them up from school.
Over the past few months, he’d passed his driving test and bought a modest black SUV on installment using his salary.
As soon as the two brothers stepped out of the school gates, they spotted Chen Luan leaning casually against the car, wearing a white scarf and a bright orange windbreaker, waving with a grin and a lollipop in his mouth.
He looked dazzlingly handsome, and the new car stood out even among the rows of luxury vehicles.
“What made you come pick us up? Got your license already?” Jiang Xun strode over, reaching out to straighten Chen Luan’s wind-blown scarf before running a hand along the car’s glossy paint. “You bought a new car?”
“Your brother can pilot a mecha; of course, I passed this little test with flying colors.” Chen Luan ruffled Jiang Xun’s hair. “It’s winter break—of course, I had to come pick you up myself. It’s freezing; get in the car.”
“Aren’t there plenty of nice cars in the garage at home?” Jiang Ling asked, tossing his backpack into the trunk and wrinkling his nose at the cheap, leathery smell of the new car. “Or do you just have some weird fondness for these beat-up rides?”
“It’s different.”
Chen Luan chewed and swallowed his candy, then handed two bags to them—one to the reluctant but obedient Jiang Ling, who took the back seat, and one to Jiang Xun in the passenger seat.
“You two look like frozen quails. I brought warm clothes—put them on.”
It was already deep winter, and the school uniforms were thin. Both boys, handsome and fair, had noses and ears red from the cold, their breath misting faintly in the frosty air.
Once they settled in, buckled up, and turned on the heater, Chen Luan pulled out two steaming cups of milk tea from the storage compartment and waved them playfully.
“Delivery from Ele.me! Please accept your milk tea!”
“Only kids drink this—it’s so childish,” Jiang Ling scoffed, but still took a cup, poked in a straw, and took a sip. “Still, it’s pretty good. I’ll reluctantly give you a five-star review.”
“Only five stars?” Chen Luan smiled, turning slightly toward him. Resting his chin on one hand, he tapped Jiang Ling’s forehead. “Shouldn’t there be a reward too? Like… calling me brother?”
Chen Luan seemed to have a strange obsession with making Jiang Ling call him “brother.”
“No tip. Don’t even think about it.”
Jiang Ling crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, long legs casually crossed, looking up at Chen Luan with a faint smile. “But—do you want a gift?”
“?” Chen Luan was taken aback. “A gift? What—”
“Happy birthday, brother.”
“Happy birthday, Chen Luan.”
Chen Luan blinked as his two younger brothers each took out an exquisite gift box and opened them in front of him.
Two identical red velvet square boxes.
In Jiang Xun’s box lay a watch with a deep blue dial inlaid with star-like diamonds.
In Jiang Ling’s box was a necklace with a sapphire heart held in a silver hand.
They looked like a matching set from the same series.
Seeing Chen Luan’s clearly puzzled expression, Jiang Ling chuckled and waved a hand in front of his eyes.
“Hey, don’t tell me you actually forgot it’s your birthday today?”
Jiang Xun didn’t speak, but from his gaze, he was clearly thinking the same thing as Jiang Ling.
Chen Luan rubbed his nose.
He had, in fact, forgotten.
After Jiang Mingming’s death, no one had remembered his birthday anymore. Even he had grown indifferent to it.
If not for today, he might not have realized that Jiang Luan and he shared the same birthday.
“Never mind. Come here,” Jiang Ling beckoned.
“Why?” Chen Luan asked, puzzled.
“Tsk, I told you to come here, so come here. Stop talking nonsense.”
Jiang Ling dropped his legs, leaned forward, looped an arm around Chen Luan’s neck, and with a tug, pulled him right in front of him.
Caught off guard, Chen Luan stumbled and had to steady himself with a hand on Jiang Ling’s shoulder.
The boy’s shoulders, hardened by years of training, were firm and strong beneath his clothes.
Their faces were so close that Chen Luan could feel Jiang Ling’s breath brush his skin, the clean scent of youth almost overwhelming.
Too close.
Chen Luan instinctively tried to lean back, but Jiang Ling’s warm hand on the back of his neck held him still.
“Don’t move,” Jiang Ling murmured, using his other hand to lift the necklace from the box and loop it gently around Chen Luan’s neck.
At the same time, Chen Luan felt Jiang Xun take his wrist.
The cool touch of metal against warm skin made him flinch, but Jiang Xun only tightened his grip.
For a moment, Chen Luan was surrounded by the two of them—
and in a daze, it almost felt as if he were being held captive by both Jiang Xun and Jiang Ling.
Jiang Xun looked down at Chen Luan’s wrist, veins faintly visible beneath the pale skin.
When the silver strap was fastened snugly around that wrist, Jiang Xun felt a flicker of possession—
as if he had claimed him.
If that beautiful metallic sheen weren’t a watch strap, but something else entirely…
Jiang Xun’s grip tightened, his fingertips pressing lightly against Chen Luan’s pulse.
A faint tremor, steady and alive.
A shadow crossed his eyes.