Chapter 8

The charcoal in the four-legged yellow rosewood brazier burned fiercely, filling the room with a gentle warmth.

Zhu An removed the pillowcase from the incense steamer and deftly arranged the bedding. The mix of warm and subtle fragrances filled every corner, soothing and comforting.

Jiang Si sat before the mirror, allowing Zhu Ping to take off the jewelry from her hair. Once all the hairpins and ornaments were removed, her jet-black hair cascaded down like a dark waterfall.

Zhu Ping held a gem-studded rosewood comb, gently running it through his daughter’s hair stroke by stroke.

Outside the window, the call of an unfamiliar bird rang out.

Zhu An’s face brightened. “It must be Sixth Young Master.”

Soon, Jiang Xuan’s voice sounded, “Yuge’er, Second Brother has arrived.”

Among the men of the Jiang family’s generation, he ranked sixth, so Zhu An called him Sixth Young Master.

He appeared to have just bathed, looking refreshed, with a faint trace of moisture lingering in his hair. His narrow-sleeved, blue habit with a turned collar, a mutton fat jade pendant hanging at his waist, and silver crown holding his hair high—all marked him as a spirited scion of a noble household.

“Yuge’er, are you feeling better?”

Jiang Si smiled at him. “Second Brother, I’m much better now.”

When their father, Jiang Shen, was assigned away, Jiang Si was still young, so their mother, Madam Gu, accompanied her husband on his posting, heavily pregnant and bringing Jiang Si along.

The siblings grew up together, their bond unusually close and affectionate, their words and actions more intimate than those of ordinary brothers and sisters. He pulled over a stool and plopped down behind Jiang Si, scrutinizing himself in the mirror with a look that seemed dissatisfied.

Jiang Si watched him frown and sigh from time to time and teased, “Second Brother, why the sighs before your own reflection? Is it because you think you look too good, unrivaled throughout the capital?”

“Exactly so.” He nodded without a trace of modesty, his gaze toward Jiang Si playful. “I’ve been so busy these days I haven’t had time to visit you. Judging by your appearance, you must be fully recovered.”

Madam Gu, who had entered through the beaded curtain, heard this and smiled happily. But when she caught sight of her son’s improper sitting posture, her temper flared.

“Look at you! How do you expect to sit like that?”

Jiang Xuan jumped up as if his backside had been set aflame, lowering his head and looking submissive—as pitiful and humble as a wronged child.

Madam Gu’s anger only grew. “You good-for-nothing, always smirking. Luckily, your sister is sensible and hasn’t picked up your shameless ways, or else I’d skin you alive.”

“Mother, rest assured, everyone says our Yuge’er is well-behaved, the most charming young lady in the capital. In my eyes, even a prince wouldn’t measure up to her.”

Madam Gu’s face changed. “What nonsense is that? If others heard you, they’d think we’re shameless. Stop talking, or you’ll corrupt your sister.”

Jiang Xuan replied with a hesitant “Eh eh,” winking at Jiang Si.

He was deliberately speaking that way because he knew what had happened at school. When he first heard that his sister had been treated disrespectfully, he was so angry he almost went to confront Murong Cheng with a knife. That was why he said even a prince wasn’t worthy of his sister.

“Yuge’er, tell Mother quickly, aren’t you and Second Brother the best of friends?”

Madam Gu shot him a glare. “Go away, you and your sister are the best friends in the world. Yuge’er, isn’t that so?”

Mother and son looked at Jiang Si with indulgent smiles.

Jiang Si smiled too, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Such a mother, such a brother—this was a happiness she wouldn’t have dared dream of in her previous life.

No matter what curses or ill fate, she only wished for her family’s safety and peace.

***

The next day.

Murong Cheng did not attend school.

Someone asked Yi Que, who replied that the heir apparent was unwell.

As for the nature of his ailment, Yi Que was confused. After all, when he had gone to find Murong Cheng earlier, he had seen no sign of illness.

He looked thoughtfully at Jiang Si.

If he recalled correctly, yesterday after school, he had invited the young lady to walk together, but she had deliberately stayed behind, seemingly just for this Fifth Miss Jiang.

Could something have happened?

He did not ask Jiang Si directly but approached Gu Duan, slinging an arm over his shoulder like a brother. “Gu Duan, I remember you left late yesterday. Did you see anything?”

Gu Duan shook his head instinctively. “I… didn’t see anything.”

“Really?” Yi Que glanced at Jiang Si. “That’s strange then.”

Jiang Si seemed not to hear and continued reading her book.

Jiang Wei hesitated for a long time before finally summoning courage to approach. Her beautiful face flushed like a blooming flower, shy yet bold.

“Young Master Yi, do you really not know what’s wrong with the heir apparent?”

Yi Que, as Murong Cheng’s closest attendant, knew well their affairs—their back-and-forth struggles and how Jiang Si had been dragged into them.

He fanned himself with a carefree air. “I truly don’t know what’s ailing the heir apparent. Miss Jiang Si, if you’re worried, you might as well visit the Wangfu yourself.”

Many glanced over; Jiang Wei blushed deeply.

It was hard enough for her to ask Yi Que, let alone venture to the Wangfu. Returning to her seat, she looked back at Jiang Si, who was still absorbed in her book, her eyes clouded with complexity.

“Fifth Sister, aren’t you at all worried about the heir apparent?”

Jiang Si found it amusing.

This young lady had earlier tried to keep her away from the male lead, even wishing she wouldn’t come to school. Now she came asking why she wasn’t worried about him—it was utterly contradictory.

She, a cannon fodder who had died early, how could she care?

With clear, untainted eyes, she looked at Jiang Wei in puzzlement.

Jiang Wei felt awkward under her gaze and muttered, “I misspoke.”

They did not speak again until school ended.

As students filtered out in small groups, a sudden exclamation rang out, “Heir apparent, why are you here at this hour?”

Everyone turned to see Murong Cheng walking back the opposite way.

Leaning against the wall like a man owed ten thousand taels of silver, his brow furrowed deeply, his face seemed to scream, “I’m very troubled.”

Jiang Si found it unbearably ironic.

Had she not known the plot beforehand, she might have believed this male lead was deeply in love with the original owner of her body.

She strode straight past, treating him as air.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her; Murong Cheng quickly overtook her and blocked her path.

His face was dark, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Jiang Si, don’t you feel any sorrow at all?”

Jiang Si was speechless.

Was the heir apparent emotionally unbalanced?

She lowered her voice, tone sharp, “Murong Cheng, do you want to die?”

At that age, full of youthful blood and fearless of death, reason told him to stay away, but a voice inside encouraged him on.

“Just say something—it won’t kill you.”

“You’re wrong.” Jiang Si gave him a scornful glare, voice low. “If you keep provoking me, I’ll cling to you and recklessly marry you. When you die, I’ll live in your main house, spend your silver, and keep several handsome favorites, living a carefree and happy life every day.”

He was utterly unprepared for such words, stunned beyond recovery.

Jiang Si wasn’t finished; she struck again.

“Come to think of it, I’m starting to feel tempted.” She stepped closer, a smile at the corner of her lips. “Heir apparent, if you’re willing, I’d be delighted to be this widowed lady.”

Murong Cheng looked like he had seen a ghost, his face shifting between pale and flushed, voice trembling. “Jiang Si, you… you’re so poisonous!”

Everyone was shocked, whispering among themselves.

No one caught exactly what Jiang Si said, but they all heard Murong Cheng’s outburst. “You’re so poisonous” was hardly a compliment; it sounded off in every way.

Someone asked, “What did Fifth Miss Jiang say to scare the heir apparent like that?”

Murong Cheng didn’t like the question. How could the dignified heir apparent be frightened by anyone?

Regaining his composure, he glared at the questioner. “Who’s scared?”

Fearing his wrath, the students scattered like frightened birds.

The leaves of the parasol tree rustled endlessly in the breeze.

He snorted coldly, forcing himself to appear indifferent. But when he looked at Jiang Si again, his gaze turned strange. “Jiang Si, how did I never realize before that you’re so wicked-hearted?”

Jiang Si didn’t deny it. “That’s just who I am. It’s not too late for the heir apparent to see my true colors now.”

Murong Cheng ground his teeth, cursing himself for his earlier cowardice. Compared to the vague feelings stirring inside, a young man’s pride seemed more important.

“Alright, Jiang Si, I’ll remember this!”

Remembering was fine.

Jiang Si felt drained, wilting like a fading flower—broken and sorrowful.

“Heir apparent, you were born noble and destined for glory. Anything you desire is within easy reach. To you, I’m just a small stone you find novel among countless pearls and jewels. A mere kick from you could shatter me to pieces.”

“Jiang Si, you…” Murong Cheng was caught off guard by her sudden change, unsure how to respond.

She lifted her head, tear-stained.

“I’ve been weak since childhood, raised carefully by my parents. Even if I’m lowly like a stone, I’m still their beloved. If I die, what would become of them?”

“Jiang Si, what are you saying? How could you die?”

“To enter the eyes of nobility with such lowly status is already wrong. Doesn’t the heir apparent understand this? Moreover, if my lowliness could harm a noble’s life, then I deserve to die. Heir apparent, I beg you, can you please spare me?”

Murong Cheng’s proud temperament was weak against softness and gentle pleas.

Lost in Jiang Si’s tears, he found himself saying a single word: “Alright.”