“Jiang Ci, Jiang Ci…”
“Dad, Daddy…” Little Haohao, his face smudged with cream, froze where he sat. His small body trembled, and the next second, his mouth puckered, and tears spilled from his big eyes as he burst into sobs.
Su Yue’s gaze instantly landed on Jiang Ci. Red splotches dotted his face, spreading down his exposed neck and the backs of his hands—clear signs of an allergic reaction. Her expression remained composed, though her heart sank. “Xiao Haohao, don’t cry. Stay here and watch over your daddy. I’ll go find help.”
Sniffling, Jiang Haoyan’s eyes turned red from crying. At her words, he nodded tearfully and choked out, “Daddy, don’t die. Haohao will guard you.”
Su Yue could feel the little one’s panic, but there was no time for comfort. She gave his soft head a reassuring pat before rushing out.
The banquet was already in full swing. Under the bright chandeliers in the grand hall, Jiang Muhang and Jiang Xuan, the evening’s stars, were dancing the opening waltz, all eyes fixed on them.
Su Yue grabbed a passing servant and asked urgently, “Where’s the housekeeper?”
The young servant, startled and unfamiliar with Su Yue’s face, answered in a daze, “I think the housekeeper’s with Madam.” After a pause, she added, “Madam is in the rest area.”
Without another word, Su Yue turned and made her way through the hall, her footsteps swift and silent. She spotted Uncle Zhang, the housekeeper, standing beside Song Xiaoqing, reporting something in a low voice.
“Uncle Zhang, Jiang Ci fainted! You need to send someone to take him to the hospital—right now.” Su Yue’s voice was tight with urgency as she approached.
“What happened?” Song Xiaoqing looked up, surprised to see Su Yue. Her eyes lingered on her daughter-in-law’s thinner frame, taken aback by how much weight she had lost.
“Mother, something’s wrong with Jiang Ci,” Su Yue said quickly. She explained the red rashes and his sudden collapse, barely keeping her own panic in check. “Uncle Zhang, please, send someone now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Uncle Zhang responded swiftly and was about to leave when—
“Wait,” Song Xiaoqing stopped him, frowning. “There are guests everywhere. Be discreet. We can’t let this ruin the banquet.”
“I understand.” Uncle Zhang nodded, then hurried away.
Su Yue’s gaze turned to Song Xiaoqing. Her calm expression amidst such chaos made Su Yue deeply uncomfortable. Her son had collapsed, yet she remained seated with barely a flicker of worry—more concerned with keeping up appearances than with her son’s life.
No, not her son—her other son.
Song Xiaoqing’s bias was as clear as day. Although she knew this partiality stemmed from the so-called “protagonist’s halo,” Su Yue still felt a wave of injustice on Jiang Ci’s behalf.
“You don’t need to worry so much. Jiang Ci has a pollen allergy,” Song Xiaoqing said with a wave of her hand, her tone casual. “It’s happened before. He had frequent allergic reactions as a child. You said he fainted after eating cake—did you perhaps use flower ingredients?”
Su Yue froze. “No. I know he’s allergic to pollen. I made sure nothing like that was in the cake.”
She had handled every step of the preparation. There was no room for error.
But Song Xiaoqing’s eyes lingered on her, doubt flickering in them.
She had never liked this eldest daughter-in-law. Now that Jiang Ci had fallen ill after eating her cake, suspicion came easily.
“I understand. You go to the hospital and take care of Jiang Ci. I’ll look into it from here,” Song Xiaoqing said, her voice measured.
“And you?”
“I need to remain here. If anything happens, call me. Understood?” She rubbed her temple, the elegance of her well-maintained face shadowed with fatigue.
Su Yue clenched her jaw but said nothing. She turned and left.
—
At the hospital, Jiang Ci had yet to regain consciousness.
“When will Daddy wake up?” Jiang Haoyan’s little nose wrinkled as he blinked up at Su Yue, his eyes still wet.
“Soon. The doctor said he’ll be alright, so don’t worry.” Su Yue cradled him gently and sat in the chair beside the hospital bed.
Jiang Ci’s complexion was alarmingly pale, and the rash on his face hadn’t faded. On his left cheek, the old scar only made the red splotches more jarring. The doctor had said it would take at least a week for the allergic reaction to fully subside.
Haohao stared at his father’s face, worry creasing his small brows. “Will Daddy hurt?”
“No, it’s just ugly.” Su Yue reached out to pinch his soft cheek.
“Daddy’s not ugly! Daddy’s the most handsome!” Haohao turned to glare at her through his tears, his voice fierce and earnest.
“Alright, alright. Your daddy is the most handsome,” Su Yue chuckled softly. Then she noticed his dry lips. “Are you thirsty? Let me pour you some water.”
“Mmm… Haohao is a little thirsty,” he nodded obediently.
Su Yue set him down and went to pour a glass of warm water. As she turned back, she caught sight of Jiang Ci’s lips—dry and cracked. She grabbed a cotton swab from the cabinet, soaked it in warm water, and leaned close, gently moistening his lips with careful strokes.
At such a close distance, even with his face marred by red patches, his features were still striking. His lips, though dry, had a soft curve and pale hue, delicate and beautiful. The bridge of his nose was high and perfect—no surgery needed, unlike many celebrities. His lashes were dark, thick, and neatly fanned—what a waste that such beautiful eyes belonged to a blind man.
And then, those eyes suddenly opened.
They were pitch black, bottomless—and utterly unfocused.
Su Yue gasped, heart clenching.
“You… you’re awake?” she whispered, startled, her hand withdrawing instantly.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Haohao, still holding the cup, rushed over, his short legs carrying him as fast as they could. But he was too small—he could only raise his head beside the bed, trying to see his father.
Jiang Ci frowned. The last thing he remembered was taking a bite of Su Yue’s cake—then everything went dark.
“Jiang Ci, how do you feel? Are you still itchy?” Su Yue’s voice softened.
Jiang Ci didn’t answer. He reached to scratch at his skin.
“No—don’t!” Su Yue quickly grabbed his hand. “Your face is already covered in rashes. If you scratch, it’ll scar. Do you want to ruin your face?”
“Don’t meddle in my business!” Jiang Ci’s voice was hoarse and icy. With a sharp jerk, he flung her hand away.
Su Yue’s hand struck the cabinet beside her, the impact jarring. Pain shot up her arm, and her eyes reddened immediately.
She bit her lip. She hated pain the most.
“Fine. Scratch all you want.” She turned slightly, clutching her hand. The skin was already red. “I made the cake, yes, but I didn’t hurt you. I have no idea why you had an allergic reaction.”
Jiang Ci lay motionless, silent.
“If I really wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t use such a stupid method.” Su Yue’s brows furrowed, her voice low. “Besides, what benefit would it bring me?”
His cold gaze turned toward her. “Maybe you thought if I died, you could be with Jiang Muhang. Didn’t you drug him before?”
Su Yue stiffened. That memory—the original owner’s disgrace—flashed before her eyes. There was no way to deny that past. But that didn’t mean she should take the blame for this.
“Yes, I admit I did such a thing once, but that was a mistake—one I regret. It doesn’t mean I’d hurt you now.” Her voice lowered even more, almost a murmur. “And I don’t like Jiang Muhang anymore.”
“You think I’d believe you?” Jiang Ci’s mouth curved into a cold smirk, his tone mocking. He hadn’t forgotten the many foolish things she’d done for Jiang Muhang. Her so-called affections meant nothing to him.
Still, he had to admit—during this time, her attentiveness wasn’t fake. Whether or not she had a motive, she had indeed taken care of him.
“I’ve already sent the cake for testing,” Su Yue added. “Soon, we’ll know the truth.”
She glanced at her hand, red and swollen from the blow. Just when the scratches had healed, she had to go and injure herself again. It’d probably bruise by morning.
“Even if the cake comes back clean,” Jiang Ci said coldly, “the result is the same. I still fainted because of you. Whether it was intentional or not doesn’t change the fact that I’m lying here now.”
He’d realized it was a mistake to let down his guard around her. Too much leniency had made her careless.
Su Yue looked at his tightly shut eyes, and her heart sank. He had closed himself off again.
At the side of the bed, little Haohao clutched the blanket quietly. He didn’t understand much of what was being said, but he knew one thing—Daddy had collapsed after eating the cake made by this woman. His lips pressed together, and his wide eyes stared at Su Yue with faint wariness.
Outside, the sky had turned completely dark.
Su Yue cast a final glance at the silent ward, at Jiang Ci, and then at Jiang Haoyan. Without a word, she opened the door and stepped out.
The room fell into a hush once more.
Xiao Haohao reached up with his tiny hand and gently tugged the blanket over his father’s shoulder.
He would guard Daddy—just like he promised.
The ward was cloaked in silence.
Little Xiao Haohao tugged gently at Jiang Ci’s quilt with his tiny fingers, his voice trembling with a touch of fear.
“Dad…”
Jiang Ci’s brows furrowed slightly, his voice low and hoarse as he asked,
“Who sent me to the hospital?”
Though small, Xiao Haohao understood the question. His two chubby hands pressed flat on the edge of the bed, his little brows scrunched into a serious frown. In a soft, childish voice, he answered,
“It was a bad woman… She told someone to bring you to the hospital. Haohao was scared. I know Daddy is sick…”
Jiang Ci was silent for a moment before responding in a flat tone,
“I’m not dead yet. What’s there to be scared of?”
Then, pausing briefly, he added, “Boys should be brave.”
The little guy’s big eyes brimmed with moisture. He nodded earnestly, sniffing,
“Mn! Haohao is brave.”
And once again, the ward was still.
No one knew how much time passed before the door creaked open again. Xiao Haohao, already dozing off in the chair, blinked his sleepy eyes open.
Su Yue walked in, both hands carrying several bags. She went straight to the cabinet, placing everything down before opening the lids. At once, the rich aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the room.
“Xiao Haohao, come eat.”
She placed a small lunchbox on the coffee table by the sofa. “This one’s for you. Come on, come eat.”
The little one sat still, hesitant. His eyes watched her cautiously, the memories of the past tugging at his heart. He didn’t want to go. One of his short legs rubbed against the other as he struggled internally, his little brows twisted together in conflict.
“There’s drumsticks, sweet and sour pork, steamed shrimp with egg, and rice—your favorites. Aren’t you hungry?” Su Yue coaxed softly, easily catching onto his small act of stubbornness.
Xiao Haohao clutched his round tummy with both hands. Inside, it felt like two little villains were fighting. He was really, really hungry.
Without waiting, Su Yue stepped over and gently grasped his soft little hand, leading him to the sofa.
“Sit here and eat well. If you don’t, you’ll get sick. And if you get sick, how will you take care of Daddy?”
“Haohao will take care of Daddy!” he promised seriously, puffing out his cheeks like a determined little adult.
“Good boy. Now eat.” Su Yue handed him the small spoon.
Xiao Haohao didn’t hesitate anymore. He had only eaten a few bites of cake earlier, and all afternoon he had been too worried about his father to eat anything else. Now that there were his favorite dishes in front of him, he couldn’t help but swallow his saliva and dig in earnestly.
Su Yue’s lips curved into a soft smile.
The little one was easily won over.
But the big one… the big one was much harder to coax.
She turned to the bed and began to unpack another meal. The aroma once again filled the room, rich and tempting.
Her eyes shifted toward Jiang Ci, who lay with his eyes closed, silent.
She didn’t want to care about him. He had a foul temper, he was blind, his face was a mess, and now he even suspected her. But then she thought about the villa still brightly lit with birthday celebrations… while this cold, sterile hospital room was so lonely.
Even if she was angry, her anger melted slightly in the silence of this place.
After Jiang Ci had been hospitalized, aside from sending servants to bring her clothes, not a single person from the Jiang family had shown up. It was as if they didn’t care whether he lived or died.
And if even she left now in a fit of anger—what would happen to this man? What about Xiao Haohao?
Su Yue bit her lip.
As for Jiang Ci’s sudden allergic reaction—whether it had anything to do with her—she would find out. Even if he wanted to blame her, she had to clear her name.
She walked over to the bedside, her voice lowering as she said softly,
“Jiang Ci, time to eat. Even if you’re mad at me, you still have to eat. I—”
Suddenly, Jiang Ci’s eyes snapped open, startling Su Yue into cutting off her sentence mid-way.
He sat up with ease, his long legs crossing under him, his voice languid yet full with sarcasam .
“You talk too much. Do you really think I wouldn’t eat? Of course I want to eat.”
He took the chopsticks from her hand and raised an eyebrow lazily.
“Since I ended up in the hospital because of you, you’ll have to take good care of me while I’m here. You can leave after I’ve recovered.”
Su Yue blinked, stunned.
Leave… Jiang Ci?
Since this was a top-tier VIP ward, it had full amenities—even a spare bed for family members. But Su Yue thought it wasn’t good for a child to stay long in the hospital. Now that Jiang Ci was awake, she called the butler and arranged for someone to pick up Xiao Haohao. She gave strict instructions that he be well cared for.
Before leaving, the little boy climbed up on the chair beside the bed. His two tiny hands clutched the sheets, eyes brimming with tears as he whimpered,
“Daddy, you have to take care of yourself. Haohao will be good…”
“Mn,” Jiang Ci nodded. “I’ll be back in two days.”
Hearing his father’s promise, Xiao Haohao’s eyes lit up instantly. He nodded vigorously, his small mouth spreading into a sweet smile.
“Haohao will wait for Daddy to come back!”
Night deepened.
The early summer sky shimmered with stars, and the city was draped in darkness, washing away the noise of the day and wrapping the world in a rare, peaceful silence.
Su Yue emerged from the bathroom. She had just showered, her skin still glowing with warmth and steam. She placed her freshly changed clothes and the afternoon’s dress into a bag and reached for a towel to dry her damp hair.
Suddenly, a lazy voice rang out behind her,
“Come help me. I want to take a shower.”
Her hand paused mid-motion.
“…Got it.” This wasn’t their small villa—Jiang Ci wasn’t familiar with the layout. He couldn’t even find the bathroom without someone to guide him.
Su Yue quickly put down the towel and walked over to the bed. She leaned in to support his arm, but when her eyes caught the deep purpling on the back of her hand, she flinched slightly.
In her previous body, she’d been delicate—pain-averse and easily bruised. She always took great care of her skin. Now, with just one rough tug, her hand was red and tender, the pain prickling beneath her skin.
She glanced at Jiang Ci—he was perfectly fine.
She reached out again and steadied his arm.
“You didn’t eat earlier?” Jiang Ci commented with a mocking lilt. He was still weak from the allergic reaction, but even so, Su Yue was too soft—her hands felt like cotton. Completely useless.
Su Yue pouted quietly and muttered,
“I couldn’t help it. You flung my hand away this afternoon. It still hurts…”
“What, want me to call a nurse for you?” he smirked.
“Jiang Ci…” she gritted his name.
Without warning, his strong arm wrapped around her waist, and he leaned into her body to rise. His tone was languid, but commanding,
“Don’t overthink it. Aren’t you helping me up? Let’s go—you’re taking me to the bathroom.”
Su Yue had slimmed down to 120 pounds now. Compared to her previous 155, her waist was much smaller—at least two or three inches thinner.
Jiang Ci’s arm clamped around her waist like iron, making her wince.
“Ouch—don’t grab so hard! Can’t you loosen your grip?” Was his arm made of steel?
But Jiang Ci was lost in thought. He remembered clearly—the last time he touched her waist, it was soft and fleshy, like dough. Still soft now, yes, but it was definitely narrower.
Did she really lose that much weight?
He grunted in acknowledgment and silently loosened his grip on her waist, shifting his hand to her shoulder instead. Their bodies leaned even closer together.
Her damp hair clung to her skin, dripping water. With Jiang Ci so close, he could smell the light, fresh scent of her shampoo, and the strands occasionally brushed against his cheek, wet and soft, irritatingly ticklish.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
After escorting Jiang Ci into the bathroom and switching on the water heater, Su Yue stepped back out.
She picked up her towel to resume drying her hair. But she had barely gotten halfway through when his voice came again—lazily, carelessly—from behind the door.
“Su Yue, where are my clothes?”
Crap. She forgot.
Grabbing the clean hospital clothes, she rushed to the door and knocked, “I’ve got them. Open the door.”
Jiang Ci’s response was shameless and firm,
“I can’t see the door. You bring them in.”
Su Yue: “…”