THE FAKE HEIRESS AND HER FIVE VILLAINOUS BROTHERS

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As a renowned young master in their circle, 16-year-old Yuan Chan was nothing like his cold and fearsome father, Yuan Jianghai. Tall and handsome, Yuan Chan was gentle, tolerant, and magnanimous. When in a good mood, he could be humorous and witty, making him a popular companion among the heirs of other families.

Consequently, Yuan Chan often received love letters. They were slipped into his homework, tucked into his desk, and once, someone even chased him into the men's restroom, bursting open the stall door to forcefully hand him a thick stack of love letters.

"Senior Yuan Chan! I've liked you for so long! This is a year's worth of love letters! Please read them!"

Yuan Chan, seated on the toilet, was utterly shocked.

Always naive about love, today he truly had his eyes opened. Who knew this emotion could drive people to such madness!

And that damned door—definitely shoddy workmanship! How could students feel secure using the restroom?

Yuan Chan quickly composed himself, raised his rock-hard fist, and struck out, successfully landing his admirer in the hospital.

Thankfully, the other party was also male. Being seen like this wasn't too bad; otherwise, it could have left serious psychological scars.

To prevent such situations, Yuan Chan publicly announced that in this life, he only loved weapons. His future dream was to marry his work, and he'd punch anyone who sent him love letters, regardless of gender.

That night, half the school wept bitterly. Their love letters would never be delivered.

Unfortunately, Yuan Chan's dream could never be realized. The Yuan family's heirs had always had arranged marriages, and Yuan Chan also had a fiancée.

At this moment, that young lady was sitting opposite Yuan Chan. Their gazes accidentally met in the air, and she shyly lowered her head.

Today was their first meeting. They had heard of each other's existence, exchanged two letters, shared photos, but had no other interactions.

Yuan Chan frowned and sighed.

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She was extraordinarily beautiful, wearing a cream-colored long dress, elegant and ladylike—clearly from a distinguished family.

Yuan Chan had no particular thoughts about her. However, as the Yuan family heir, he needed to maintain a proper image. He showed no impatience.

He said gallantly, "Don't worry, Miss Sen. Arranged marriages are relics of history, long overdue for abolishment. When my father arrives, I'll tell him I will never marry you."

Miss Sen looked up in panic, her doe-like, misty eyes glistening with tears.

Yuan Chan seriously analyzed her reason for crying.

Was the room's air conditioning too cold?

These refined ladies were so delicate, truly difficult to handle.

He stretched out his hand, summoning a manservant, and ordered, "Turn up the air conditioning temperature and bring Miss Sen a blanket."

The manservant complied. Miss Sen clutched the blanket in anguish. After ten years of secret love, this blanket was the only tenderness she'd received from Yuan Chan.

The room's door opened, and Yuan Jianghai appeared. Pathologically pale and frail as deadwood, the faint smile on his face always evoked a strange chill. Leaning on a black wooden cane, he entered.