The Vicious Aunt of the Genius Twins

Chapter 3

This aunt’s mind was so quiet—no incomprehensible chatter about clothes, bags, or nightclubs—so their focus settled on Qiao Lan’s face.

In the past, Little Qiao’an had never dared to look directly at their aunt. On the rare occasions they did, the harsh thoughts in her mind would frighten them. But now, they could finally see their aunt’s features clearly.

They racked their brain for words to describe her but came up short, settling only on "pretty"—prettier than the princesses in the cartoons their brother had shown them. Her eyes even seemed to glow!

Their brother often said posting nice photos online would attract attention. If they posted a picture of their aunt, would lots of people like it?

But no… their brother didn’t like their aunt.

And they… well, today, they liked this sick version of their aunt just a little.

After dinner, Little Qiao’an prepared to quietly retreat to their room to sleep as usual, but halfway there, their aunt called out.

"Where are you going?"

Hearing the coolness in her voice, Little Qiao'an replied timidly, "To sleep." After a pause, they added, "I’ll wash my feet."

That room had no air conditioning, and the blankets were thin. Letting a child who had just recovered from a fever sleep there didn’t sit right with Qiao Lan. She opened her own bedroom door. "Sleep here tonight."

Little Qiao'an froze in place.

Qiao Lan walked into the child’s room and found a pile of neatly folded clothes. Kneeling down, she couldn’t help but smile—the child still hadn’t quite mastered folding, so while the clothes looked orderly from afar, up close they were just haphazardly stuffed together. At least they weren’t dirty.

She picked out two sets and said, her voice carrying a faint trace of amusement, "You had a fever today, so you need a bath first. You know how to wash your feet, but can you bathe yourself?"

Little Qiao’an nodded softly.

Still uneasy, Qiao Lan followed them into the bathroom. The child stretched on tiptoe to fiddle with the faucet, muttering, "Left, right… is left the hot water?" Without their brother here, they couldn’t remember.

A sudden spray of water drenched them completely.

Luckily, Qiao Lan had turned on the heater beforehand. She shut off the water and began filling the tub while undressing the child. "How did you two usually bathe before?"

Thinking they’d done something wrong, Little Le’an lowered their head and mumbled, "Brother."

Qiao Lan understood.

[So the brother’s the clever one.]

Little Qiao'an grew nervous. "But I’m learning too."

"Mm." Qiao Lan’s hands stilled as she noticed the bruises mottling the child’s fair skin. Her pupils constricted slightly.

She’d known her previous self abused the children, but she hadn’t expected it to be this severe. The patches of blue and purple, fresh and old, were horrifying to see. Her fingers trembled, afraid to touch them.

The child, however, seemed entirely unaware of anything unusual about their body—perhaps already numb to it.

What was truly frightening was that despite all this, the child today hadn’t shown the slightest resistance to her words, obedient beyond belief.

[How could they be so docile?]

After testing the water temperature, Qiao Lan lifted the child into the tub and finally spoke. "Kid."

"Huh?" Little Qiao’an blinked. "Are you calling me?"

But their name wasn’t "Kid."

Qiao Lan hummed in confirmation, her voice slightly hoarse. "From now on, if you don’t like or don’t want something, learn to say no."

This concept was still foreign to Little Qiao’an, who’d been taught never to disobey—or face punishment. They blinked, unsure how to respond, and quietly picked up a small towel to scrub their arm.

The spacious bathroom was filled only with the sporadic sound of water. Qiao Lan collected herself and said nothing more, distractedly counting the bruises as if tallying the days she had left to live.

After the bath, she led the child back to her room to sleep, contemplating whether to spend the night on the sofa instead. The living room had air conditioning, and the sofa was large enough to avoid catching a cold.

She wasn’t ready to share a bed with a child who was still sick.

Just as she was about to turn off the light and leave, the quiet child suddenly spoke.

"Will you hit me?"

Qiao Lan paused and turned back. "What?"

Tucked under the blankets, the child lay motionless, staring at the ceiling. "If I say no… will you hit me?"

Was this their response to her words in the bathroom?

After a few seconds of silence, Qiao Lan returned to the bedside, her dark eyes lowering. "No."

Her voice was soft. "None of this was your fault. The one who hit you was the one in the wrong."

Even if she hadn’t been the one to hurt them, how could a child possibly understand that? Qiao Lan knew that at this moment, what the child needed wasn’t a lesson in right and wrong—just reassurance.

"Then… will you take medicine?"

"Medicine?"

Little Qiao’an’s gaze flickered nervously. "Auntie, are you sick? If you take medicine, you’ll get better."

Qiao Lan didn't follow.

The child pressed on. "If you get better… will you still hold me?"

Realization dawned on Qiao Lan. So the child thought her change in behavior today was because she was ill?

[Kids really do have wild imaginations.]

But as for whether she’d hold them again, Qiao Lan couldn't promise anything. She wasn’t used to physical affection, and once these children were reunited with their father, they likely wouldn’t need her embrace anyway.

Unsure how to comfort a child, she settled on a different answer. "At the very least, I won’t hit you."

What she didn’t know was that, for Little Qiao'an in this moment, those words were already enough.

Enough that, for once, they forgot to be perfectly well-behaved—kicking their feet under the covers in excitement, creating tiny bumps in the blanket.

Then, realizing their lapse, they peeked anxiously at their aunt.

But Auntie simply turned off the lights, leaving only a dim bedside lamp. Under the warm yellow glow, her face appeared even gentler. After grabbing a quilt, she walked out.

"Go to sleep."

Little Qiao'an quickly closed her eyes, only daring to peek open after hearing Auntie leave. She fished out her phone and secretly video-called her brother, as they had agreed—she couldn’t sleep without him.

The call connected almost instantly. Little Qiao Jia had thrown a tantrum to convince the couple who bought him to let him sleep alone, just so he could talk to his sister. His room was now quiet too.

Little Qiao'an whispered, "Brother, I’m sleeping in Auntie’s bed. She even praised me."

"Praised you for what?"

The little girl thought for a moment, tapping her head. "She said my brain works well!"

Did that mean she wasn’t stupid?

On the other end, Little Qiao Jia was baffled. Why had their mean auntie become so strange after just two days apart?

He asked, "Is she sleeping with you?"

"No."

Still uneasy, Little Qiao Jia pressed, "Go check quietly—where is she?"

The siblings hid under the covers for over half an hour before Little Qiao'an tiptoed out of bed and cracked the door open. Through the gap, she saw Auntie asleep on the sofa in the living room, her brows slightly furrowed like a sleeping beauty.

But Little Qiao Jia’s expression darkened instantly. "Go back now!"

Confused, Little Qiao'an obediently scurried back to bed. "What’s wrong, Brother?"

Little Qiao Jia clenched his lips tightly. "She’s guarding you."

Sleeping in the living room meant she was afraid his sister would run away. And praising her "good brain"? Their silly little sister never got compliments—this proved their mean auntie was still planning to sell her!

"Don’t hang up," he ordered.

Little Qiao'an didn’t understand, but she truly hadn’t heard Auntie’s thoughts about hurting her.

Had her special ability broken because she was sick?

The stress from the previous day and caring for a sick child had exhausted Qiao Lan,so she slept soundly and woke up early the next morning. She remembered the designer bags she’d listed on a secondhand website.

To her surprise, even bags worth tens of thousands had attracted many inquiries. The world really wasn’t short of wealthy people.

Eager for quick cash, Qiao Lan chose a local buyer and arranged to meet offline, bypassing the platform. The buyer was also interested in her other bags, so they agreed to authenticate them in person for their first transaction.

Desperate times called for desperate measures Qiao Lan had barely over ten yuan to her name, not even enough for gas to pick up the other child later.

After setting the meeting time and place, she checked on the little girl first.

The child stirred awake as soon as she opened the door, eyes wary until she recognized Qiao Lan and relaxed.

Little Qiao'an had spent the night haunted by nightmares of being sold, thanks to her brother’s frantic lessons on how to escape child traffickers.

Unaware of the girl’s thoughts, Qiao Lan felt her forehead to confirm the fever was gone, then dressed her and took her to wash up. "I’ll make breakfast. Play by yourself for now."

Little Qiao Jia, who’d kept the call connected all night, immediately pressed his ear to the phone, listening for any signs of danger.

First washing his sister’s face and dressing her, now cooking?

He scowled. Why hadn’t their mean auntie done any of this before selling him?

Little Qiao'an, still on the call, carried the phone to the living room, where Qiao Lan soon brought out two bowls of noodles.

Without prompting, the little girl climbed onto her chair and blew on the steaming bowl.

Qiao Lan was pleased. She didn’t mind teaching as long as the child was willing to learn—it saved her a lot of trouble.

Thinking ahead, she said, "I need to go out later. Since no one’s home, you’ll come with me?"

Little Le'an’s face instantly paled.

So Brother was right!

Panicked, Little Qiao Jia tried to warn her, but the door to his room suddenly opened. Afraid of being caught, he hung up and sent a voice message before hiding his phone.

"Sweetheart," the couple who’d bought him walked in, lifting his blanket to reveal a wet bed. Their faces soured. "We put you in a diaper last night!"

This child was not only emotionally unstable but also couldn’t control his bladder. Even at three, they still had to diaper him at night.

Little Qiao Jia stayed silent, tossing the diaper he’d deliberately removed and torn onto the floor.

He’d drunk gallons of water and held it in all night just to wet the bed!

The young father rubbed his temples. "Clean him up. We’ll take him to the hospital later."

The couple had agreed to get his IQ tested—if he was truly slow, they’d return him. They wanted a smart, pretty, low-maintenance child, not one who needed endless patience.

While they fetched clean clothes, Little Qiao Jia hatched his next plan. He had to make them return him today, or his sister would be sold next.

Time to take things up a notch—maybe a big, stinky surprise would do the trick!