From Sidekick to Bigshot Chapter 1: Must Acknowledge Your Mistake

When Jian Yiling departed the room and ascended the staircase, Wen Nuan caught sight of her from the floor below.

As their gazes locked, Wen Nuan’s face betrayed a mixture of affection and deep melancholy. She seemed on the verge of speaking, yet the words died in her throat as she hesitated.

She had doted on her daughter since the girl was a mere toddler, but...

Tears streamed down Wen Nuan’s face as she clung to Jian Shuxing. She sobbed, “It is all my doing. I simply spoiled Yiling to an inexcusable degree...”

Though Jian Shuxing had navigated the treacherous waters of the corporate world for decades, handling countless crises both great and trivial without ever losing his composure, this incident brought a rare bitterness to his eyes.

“It is not yours alone to bear; I am equally culpable. Still, it is not too late to instill discipline. If we take the right steps now, Yiling can surely turn her life around,” Jian Shuxing murmured, patting his wife’s back in a soothing rhythm.

Jian Shuxing was far from at ease himself. He had to concede that among their four children, the youngest and only girl had received a level of indulgence that went beyond the others.

However, this hardly meant his love for his three sons was any less fervent. Seeing his third son suffer had devastated him.

The couple exchanged a long look, their eyes glistening with sorrow, profound regret, a crushing sense of duty, and a heartbreaking reluctance.

The raw intensity behind their gaze was entirely unknown to Jian Yiling.

In her previous existence, her parents discovered her brilliance only to sign her over to a research institute, where she was abandoned. In exchange, they received a hefty payout every single year.

Jian Yiling had rarely been allowed to interact with them. On the few occasions they did cross paths, their eyes were icy and detached, holding her at an emotional distance that felt like miles. Even when they uttered words of concern, it always felt like a scripted, hollow recitation—devoid of any genuine warmth.

Yet, the way this couple looked at her now affected her in ways she couldn't explain. Despite the lack of logical sense, her emotions surged uncontrollably.

Perhaps they refused to believe in her innocence in this matter, but their love for her was undeniably authentic.

Suddenly breaking away from her husband, Wen Nuan dashed up the stairs to confront Jian Yiling.

The fifteen-year-old Jian Yiling appeared incredibly slight and fragile compared to those her age, a result of being born prematurely.

She possessed a doll-like face with refined features, and even at fifteen, she had not yet lost the traces of baby fat on her cheeks.

At this moment, Jian Yiling’s stoic silence only caused Wen Nuan’s distress to deepen.

With a lowered, stern voice, Wen Nuan chided her daughter. “Yiling, you must own up to your error this time. Your father and I are heading to the hospital shortly to check on your third brother. You are coming with us to offer him your sincerest apology! You must plead for his forgiveness! If you refuse to mend your ways, even your father and I will stop shielding you!”

Wen Nuan had never displayed such severity toward Jian Yiling before.

Jian Yiling merely gave a slight nod.

She was fully aware that mounting a defense would be entirely futile at this juncture.

If she persisted in declaring her innocence, she would only mirror the fate of the original Jian Yiling, casting herself into an even more precarious trap.

As evening fell, Wen Nuan instructed Aunt An to prepare some nourishing soup and a few dishes. After pouring the meal into a thermal vessel, Wen Nuan ushered a quiet Jian Yiling toward the hospital.

The Jian family estate sat nestled deep in the mountains, a region dominated by opulent villas owned by the most powerful and influential figures in Hengyuan City.

The private hospital where Jian Yunnao was being treated was a thirty-minute drive away; it reached the absolute peak of medical standards in the city.

Upon reaching the ward, they found their son with his arm suspended in a frame, his complexion pallid and weary. The sight tore at their hearts.

Jian Yunnao shared the same sharp, elegant facial structure as his brother, Jian Yuncheng.

Yet, in contrast to the eldest, Jian Yunnao’s features were marked by a softer, more delicate air.

Currently, that delicate expression was clouded by misery, his eyes radiating a sense of utter despair.

Jian Yunnao was only seventeen; such a traumatic experience had taken a heavy toll on him.

Jian Yuncheng sat beside his younger brother’s bed in total silence.

His face was cast in a dark, formidable shadow.

“Yunnao, I had Aunt An prepare your favorite meal. Would you take a few bites?” Wen Nuan asked, her voice trembling slightly as she drew closer.

Jian Yunnao promptly averted his face.

Wen Nuan understood immediately that her son was deeply wounded.

She remained by the bedside, offering soft words of comfort, desperate to see his wall of silence break.

Jian Yuncheng looked toward his mother and stated, “Mo Shiyun stopped by a while ago. She brought some food and helped feed Third Brother.”