In addition to the test results, the housekeeper also handed Su Yue a USB flash drive and a laptop.
Ignoring the unreasonable man on the hospital bed, Su Yue took the laptop and went straight to the sofa. The USB contained several days’ worth of surveillance footage—something she had previously asked Uncle Zhang to prepare.
A grand estate like the Jiang family’s was naturally under tight security. Guards patrolled day and night, and surveillance cameras were discreetly installed both inside and out. Even the small Xiaoyang Building wasn’t spared.
Su Yue was certain—she had never done anything to harm Jiang Ci. So who had?
She lowered her eyes, the dim glow of the laptop screen reflecting in them, and began combing through the surveillance footage. The first video she opened was from the day of the incident. That day had been filled with the hustle and bustle of a banquet—guests coming and going, laughter echoing through the halls.
She clicked on the footage taken from the area outside Xiaoyang Building.
Throughout the entire day, aside from herself and the servant who brought her meals, only one other person had come near: a maid sent by Jiang Xuan to invite her to the banquet.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
Could it be related to that maid?
She remembered—according to the events described in the book, Jiang Xuan had always despised Jiang Ci as his former wife. And now, after being reborn, Jiang Xuan was even more determined to sever all ties with him. Could it be that, while Su Yue was unguarded, Jiang Xuan had used that servant to carry out something sinister against Jiang Ci?
But no—something didn’t add up.
Su Yue recalled the day she had brought Jiang Ci to meet Jiang Xuan. The woman had been cold, defensive, and resistant, unwilling to interact with Jiang Ci in the slightest. Under such circumstances, it made no sense for Jiang Xuan to deliberately meddle in Su Yue’s affairs.
She ruled Jiang Xuan out.
Her mind spun in circles, chasing possibilities. Even the mangoes Mei Si had brought up yesterday crossed her mind. But the cake had already been tested—there were no allergens, no poisons. The mango theory was invalid.
Her eyes sharpened as she continued watching the footage, this time spotting something she hadn’t noticed before.
Around noon, little Haohao had wandered out on his own. On the screen, the tiny figure toddled down the bamboo-lined path, clutching a birthday card tightly in his small hand.
A birthday card?
Where was he going with it?
Su Yue swiftly clicked to open the video from the front courtyard at the same timestamp. The next scene showed Xiao Haohao stepping around a corner, still holding his birthday card, heading toward a group of children playing in the distance.
She opened a different angle of the video. This time, the moment Xiao Haohao approached the group, the taller child among them suddenly snatched the card from his hands, laughing as the other children around him joined in.
Xiao Haohao desperately tried to get it back.
The child who took the card ran away with it, and little Haohao chased after him. One by one, the other children joined the cruel game, giggling as they turned it into a taunting chase.
Then—suddenly—Xiao Haohao tripped and fell.
Several children circled him. One of them, a chubby boy, stepped hard on his tiny body. Another, bolder one, followed suit. They laughed while doing it.
The children had cornered him in a secluded spot. A few guests passing by glanced over but didn’t intervene. Even the villa’s servants turned a blind eye, as if the bullying of Xiao Haohao was a regular occurrence—something ordinary, something unworthy of concern.
Su Yue’s expression darkened. Her brows pinched together tightly, a storm gathering in her eyes.
On screen, the tall boy glanced at the birthday card in his hand, then carelessly tossed it into the flower bed. He pointed toward the bushes, gesturing for Xiao Haohao to fetch it himself.
Su Yue froze the video.
So that’s what caused Jiang Ci’s allergic reaction.
She resumed the footage, watching closely.
Xiao Haohao got up from the ground, teetered forward on his stubby legs, and stumbled into the flower bed. His soft, chubby little hand reached out, just barely touching the card when—once again—the tall boy dashed over and flung it deeper into the flowers.
Again and again, the children jeered, their laughter echoing cruelly.
Su Yue recognized the tall boy—Jiang Qiancheng. He was the son of Jiang Ci’s second uncle.
That family lived outside the main estate. After trying for years, the second uncle had finally had a son late in life, and Jiang Qiancheng was spoiled beyond measure. Even Old Master Jiang, usually stern and difficult to please, adored his youngest grandson to no end.
The other children playing there were Jiang Qiancheng’s usual companions. It was obvious—this wasn’t the first time they’d picked on Xiao Haohao.
Su Yue closed the laptop quietly, her chest swelling with complicated emotions. She turned to look at Jiang Ci, hesitating, unsure how to explain the real cause of his allergic reaction. She had thought someone had deliberately plotted against him, a premeditated attack.
But it turned out to be nothing more than a child’s cruel prank—a tragic misunderstanding.
The afternoon sun filtered through the hospital window, pouring warm, golden light across the quiet room. Everything looked serene, even peaceful.
At that moment, a knock came at the ward door.
“Dad…”
It was Jiang Haoyan, trotting in with the family’s driver, Uncle Fang.
“The young master insisted on seeing you,” Uncle Fang explained with a respectful nod. “Madam told me to bring him over. Once he’s visited, I’ll take him back home.”
Jiang Ci leaned against the headboard, his posture lazy, eyes half-lidded. “Mm. Got it.”
“Dad!” Xiao Haohao ran to the bed, eyes sparkling. In his sweet, soft voice, he asked, “Dad, are you feeling better?”
He didn’t dare to throw himself into Jiang Ci’s arms. Instead, he shyly reached out a small hand and tugged lightly at the hem of Jiang Ci’s hospital gown.
Jiang Ci looked down at him. “Were you crying again?” he asked, his tone flat but not unkind.
Xiao Haohao shook his head frantically. “Haohao didn’t cry! Haohao was good! Haohao missed Daddy and was really worried!”
“I’ll be back home tomorrow,” Jiang Ci replied casually.
The little boy’s eyes lit up like the sun, his mouth opening into a wide grin that revealed a row of pink little teeth. “That’s great! Daddy, come back home soon!”
Su Yue sat silently beside them, her lips pressed into a faint line.
Little did Haohao know—that innocent birthday card he’d prepared had sent his father to the hospital.
If he ever found out, he would probably burst into tears.
Su Yue glanced at Jiang Ci. He had already made up his mind to blame her—whether it was the birthday cake, the allergy, or the card. In his eyes, it was all her fault.
Didn’t he once say not to reason with him?
Even if she showed him the truth, he would probably still accuse her—blame her for not watching over Haohao carefully enough, blame her for allowing the card to be tainted, blame her simply because she was her.
Su Yue exhaled lightly and lowered her eyes.
So be it.
Let it be her fault.On this day, Jiang Ci was discharged from the hospital, and Su Yue accompanied him back to Xiaoyanglou.
The once chaotic room had already been tidied up and disinfected thoroughly by the housekeeper, as per her instructions. The infamous birthday card—the very trigger of this entire episode—had also been carefully stored away.
After staying in the hospital for two days, the quiet familiarity of Xiaoyanglou made Su Yue feel like she could finally breathe. She half-lay across the soft sofa, stretching her limbs and exhaling a long breath, as if shedding all the unease she’d been holding in. On the other side, Jiang Ci reclined lazily in a chair by the window. His posture was relaxed, his face indifferent. He too, evidently, wasn’t fond of hospitals.
“Jiang Ci, are you hungry? I’ll have someone bring some food over,” Su Yue offered as she sat up.
She herself had been hungry since morning but hadn’t had time for breakfast. Now that she no longer needed to maintain a strict figure, no more crash diets or skipping meals, she could finally enjoy the pleasure of eating to her heart’s content.
Besides, she mused, being angry was better for weight loss anyway.
Jiang Ci turned his head toward her, his eyes lazily trailing over her face. After she applied the medicine yesterday, the red rashes that had once marred his striking features had significantly faded. At least now, he didn’t look hideous anymore.
But his voice carried no warmth as he asked coldly, “Did you lose your memory?”
Su Yue blinked, confused. “Huh?”
“I said, once I’m discharged, you can get out of here.”
Su Yue’s heart skipped a beat.
She stared at him in disbelief, but the man looked utterly serious. “You’re serious?” Her voice was slightly hoarse.
“Of course.” Jiang Ci’s lips curved into a sneer. “Didn’t you say many times you wanted to leave this ghost place? That you didn’t want to be stuck with a monster like me? Now I’m granting your wish.”
Su Yue’s breath caught in her throat.
So that’s what this was about.
He had overheard her complaints—her thoughtless grumblings spoken in moments of anger or frustration. But in his ears, they had become a confirmation of disdain, of betrayal. He thought she despised him. And now he was throwing her away before she could do the same to him.
Her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t argue.
“Alright, I understand,” she said quietly. “Since you’ve made your decision, I won’t stay.”
Her voice was calm, almost gentle, as if she’d long since prepared herself for this moment.
Then, she added, “While I’m gone… take care of yourself, Jiang Ci. Don’t get angry so easily. It’s bad for your health.”
Jiang Ci snorted, his gaze mocking. “As long as you’re not around, I’m always in a good mood.”
Su Yue didn’t say anything more. She stood from the sofa, walked to the bedroom, and picked up a small handbag. She didn’t bother packing clothes—they were all too large for her now anyway, leftovers from when she weighed over 150 pounds. They didn’t fit her new, slender frame.
She took only what mattered: a few documents, some cards, her phone.
And then she left.
As she stepped down the staircase, she was met with the sight of Jiang Haoyan, slowly climbing up from the first floor while holding Coriander the cat in his small arms. His soft, chubby face lit up when he saw her, but the bag in her hand made him frown slightly.
“Are you going out?” the little boy asked, tilting his head.
Su Yue crouched down and patted his head gently. “Mhm. I’m going home.”
The child blinked, seemingly puzzled.
She paused, then added softly, “If anyone bullies you again, you have to tell your dad. He’s… really strong, you know. He’ll protect you.”
Xiao Haohao’s clear eyes widened slightly. He raised his little chin proudly. “Haohao’s a man. Haohao’s not scared.”
Su Yue smiled at his childish defiance. “You are a little man, but even little men need help sometimes. So if you’re ever scared or hurt, you must ask the grown-ups for help. Promise me?”
The little guy’s brows furrowed together in confusion, but he nodded solemnly.
“I’m leaving now. Go find your dad upstairs, okay?” She couldn’t resist pinching his soft little cheeks before standing up.
With that, she turned and walked out of Xiaoyanglou.
— — —
A few minutes later, Jiang Haoyan toddled into the quiet room, still clutching Coriander.
He padded over to Jiang Ci’s side, looked up with big eyes, and declared, “Dad, that woman went home.”
Jiang Ci’s dark lashes lifted lazily, his expression unreadable. He leaned back in his chair and sneered, “Can’t bear to see her go?”
The little boy’s ears turned slightly red. He stubbornly shook his head. “No.”
But after a beat, he lowered his head, his voice soft as cotton, “She’s gone home, and now there’s no mango cake tonight…”
His little mouth drooped, and his voice grew even smaller. “And Haohao can’t eat mango cake either.”
The silence in the room grew heavy.
Jiang Ci’s cold expression froze for a moment.
“When will she come back?” Jiang Haoyan asked softly, his tiny hand gently stroking Coriander’s fur. He looked up, confused and hopeful. “Isn’t she coming back?”
Jiang Ci’s face darkened instantly.
“You want her to come back?” he asked, his voice low.
The little boy blinked, startled by the question. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again, unsure what to say.
But Jiang Ci had already looked away, his gaze falling on the empty spot where Su Yue used to sit.
The room felt strangely empty, the air laced with the faint, lingering scent she always left behind—soft, warm, maddeningly familiar.
He had told her to leave.
So why… why did it feel like something important had been taken away from him the moment she walked out the door?
A sourness welled up in his chest.
Wasn’t he the one who said he’d feel better once she was gone?
Then why did this damn room suddenly feel so suffocatingly quiet?
Even worse… there would really be no mango cake tonight.