Chapter 3

Jasper leaned into my ear, his voice a low, malicious whisper.

Looking at my neat homework on the desk, he seemed to deliberately pick a fight, suddenly grabbing my pen-holding hand and scribbling several crooked, paper-damaging lines across my notebook.

They say there's a limit to how much a person can take.

Especially when he just ruined homework that I had spent over two hours carefully completing.

I abruptly snatched the water cup from my desk, and with my other hand, quickly grabbed the front of his shirt. Amidst his surprised yelp, I splashed the entire cup of water right in his face.

"Aria! You're dead!"

He froze for a second, drenched, then erupted in a furious rage, lunging at me like a wild animal.

But as he came at me, my hand, already prepared and surging with power, grabbed his wrist and yanked him back hard.

"You're the one who's dead. Do that again, and I'll deal with your dad too."

Under my merciless grip, he grimaced in pain.

The intense pain sobered him slightly. He didn't recklessly charge forward again; instead, he recoiled a couple of steps, his eyes filled with venomous resentment.

"You just wait... you'll get what's coming to you!"

...

Jasper's "comeuppance" arrived sooner than expected.

Returning home from school that evening, I found a visitor on the living room sofa.

"Aria, come meet Uncle Richard."

Eleanor stood up a bit awkwardly, her introductory tone a little dry.

I looked at the sofa. It was a man with a composed demeanor, dressed impeccably but not ostentatiously. He was also the formidable individual Jasper had mentioned in my past life, the one who eventually forced him out of the house.

I'd once heard Dad proudly mention that the first time Eleanor introduced Uncle Richard to Jasper, Jasper threw a huge tantrum and went on a hunger strike for days.

He smashed quite a few things in the house, pointing his finger at Uncle Richard and yelling:

"You, a man remarrying with baggage, you're not even fit to tie my dad's shoes! What right do you have to step into our home!"

At that time, Dad was at the peak of his fame, a media darling.

Jasper, on one hand, regretted his initial choice; on the other, he looked down on Uncle Richard's simple lifestyle and complained that Eleanor couldn't provide him with the same prestige and lavish lifestyle as Dad.

But before he could finish his rant, a solid punch landed on his face.

Brooke, Uncle Richard's daughter, stood emotionless in the doorway, her gaze as cold as a frozen lake.

Ultimately, Eleanor still chose to be with Uncle Richard.

And because of that terrible first meeting, Jasper and Brooke's family became sworn enemies.

Now, looking at the man before me, who offered a gentle smile, and the girl behind him, with a calm expression and a hint of scrutiny in her eyes, I extended my hand.

"Hello, Uncle Richard, I'm Aria."

Brooke's gaze shifted slightly, her previously distant scrutiny softening a little.

Eleanor visibly relaxed, a relieved smile spreading across her face.

"Aria is so much more sensible than her brother. If Jasper were here, who knows what kind of scene he'd make."

Sensible?

I maintained a polite, shallow smile.

If given the choice, what child would willingly share their parents' affection and family resources?

Jasper naturally understood this, which was why he gloated and taunted me at school.

He believed I would, like him in the past life, clash endlessly with Brooke and her dad, ultimately ending up with nothing.

However, what he never knew was that Uncle Richard was the head of a national research project. Though his life was simple, his social standing and network were exceptional.

Objectively speaking, when it came to his marriage with Eleanor, perhaps we were the ones who benefited more.

Jasper never cared about the academic world, so he had never witnessed Uncle Richard's brilliance at professional forums.

Of course, even if he knew, he probably wouldn't care. Because his criteria for judging people always remained fixated on outward show and flashy clothes.

So, while he wished Uncle Richard would leave quickly, not wanting him to touch "his" interests.

I, on the other hand, was thinking about how to absorb knowledge from Uncle Richard, understand the wider world, and build my own undeniable value through genuine learning and ability.

That evening, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

As I passed the hallway corner, I was abruptly pulled into the shadows beside it by an unseen force.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, outlining a face with sharp features, and a cool, keen edge in her eyes.

"Aria," her voice was a low whisper, her gaze fixed on me, "I don't care what you're thinking, but you'd better not have any designs on my dad."