"Emma, think this through. Even if you go back to the Sullivan family, it doesn't mean we'll ever accept you. As far as I'm concerned, Sophie will always be my only sister."

Emma kept grinding herbs, not sparing him a glance, clearly unbothered by what he said.

She was the long-lost daughter of the Sullivans.

The one speaking so harshly was her third brother, Ethan Sullivan.

Next to him stood her eldest brother, Spencer Sullivan—cold, sharp-featured, and dressed to perfection.

They were here to take her back to the glamorous world of high society.

Truth be told, her reason for agreeing wasn’t them. She couldn’t care less about their money or status.

What drew her in was the lucky layout of their family estate.

"Ethan, enough!" Spencer cut in, trying to keep the peace. Then he turned to Emma, with a more measured tone.

"Don’t mind him. Now that we’ve found our real sister, you’re part of the family. We won't treat you badly."

"But Sophie’s health isn’t great. Too much upheaval would be rough on her. We talked it over with our parents. Maybe once you're back, we tell people you're a distant relative. Would that work for you?"

Emma looked up slowly, her gaze icy. "And what if I say no?"

Tch. One playing good cop, the other bad. These brothers really knew how to put on a show.

Ethan scoffed, pointing right at her. "Do you even know your place? You had some random kid at sixteen, for God’s sake. We’re already doing you a favor by taking you in. Stop acting like you deserve more."

His glare shifted to the little boy sitting across on a small stool.

The kid was adorable—chubby cheeks, head bobbing sleepily with his hands cupping his face.

It should’ve been a heartwarming sight, but all Ethan felt was disgust. He saw the boy as nothing but an unwanted mess.

A kid like that... shouldn't even exist.

"Say whatever you want, trashy big bro," Emma snapped back, her smirk laced with ice.

"We don’t need your help, stinky uncle!" the boy chimed in, voice crisp and confident.

Right after, the two shared a quick look—and a solid high-five.

Damn.

That was bold.Ethan Sullivan was fuming, his face red with anger as he pointed at them and snapped, "Fine! Just you wait. If you think you don’t need our money, then don’t expect a single cent from the Sullivan family ever again!"

"Who wants your money anyway? My mommy’s amazing," Tyler Sullivan said proudly, eyes sparkling with innocence, as he pointed at the pestle.

"Mommy uses this herb—Zilingcao—to make pills. She can make twenty of them, and each one sells for five million in the city!"

Ethan looked at them like they’d totally lost it.

Was this kid serious? Five million for one pill? What kind of fantasy land were they living in?

"Emma," Spencer Sullivan stepped forward, his tone forced and a bit condescending despite his faint attempt to sound kind. A trace of disgust flickered in his eyes.

"You won't have to do these things once you're in the city. We won’t short you on living expenses."

Emma Sullivan didn’t even bother replying.

Tyler just gave a lazy pout, trotting over to her side and muttering loudly on purpose, "Mommy, they’re so annoying!"

Ethan’s face turned dark. Was this brat for real? Who talks like that when they’re pretending to whisper?

Spencer chuckled coldly to himself—what a sly kid for someone so young.

But Tyler couldn’t care less what they thought. He started listing off his busy schedule.

"So, when are we going? Tomorrow I’m going to the amusement park with Godmom, the day after I've got a hike with Uncle Elmer, and the next day I have to help Uncle Ivan go on a blind date!"

Emma couldn’t help laughing at that. She pinched his chubby cheek and turned to look at Spencer and Ethan. The warmth vanished from her face in an instant.

"I’ll get my things. We’ll leave soon."

Her tone was calm but carried a kind of authority that made it feel like she was the one calling the shots.

Ethan looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

Spencer, quick to sense it, held him back with a dark glare and said coldly, "Fine."

They came here to take her back. There was no use arguing now.

Hopefully, once she got home, she’d behave. If she dared to stir up trouble…

He wouldn’t show mercy.

Five million pills, those so-called friends Tyler talked about—who'd believe such crap?

A country girl raised in the middle of nowhere—what did she know about herbs?

Someone who’s never even seen real wealth—no way she’d have connections in the capital.

Thirty minutes later.

Spencer spoke up. "Are you done packing?"