After Jiang Muhang coldly warned her, he turned and left, his entire figure radiating a chill. Su Yue pouted, feeling wronged. Next time I see him, I’ll be sure to steer clear—far, far away.
Back in the room, Su Yue intended to inform the kitchen staff that starting from lunch today, her meals should be sent to Xiaoyanglou. Since both Jiang Ci and Jiang Haoyan dined there, there was no reason for her to show up in the main hall and eat alone like some pathetic outsider. Especially not under Jiang Muhang’s scrutinizing gaze—he’d no doubt assume she was clinging to him shamelessly.
In the servants’ quarters, a young maid approached He Xiaoqin with a grin. “Xiaoqin, I really envy how idle your days are.”
“Envy me?” He Xiaoqin glanced lazily at her freshly manicured nails. “Let’s switch, then.”
She had spent hundreds on her nails—no way she’d give up her pampering. But truth be told, ever since she started working at the Jiang residence, her salary had doubled what she used to make at the hospital. Her lifestyle had soared.
The servant giggled. “Stop joking. Everyone knows your temper. You’ve stayed by Young Master Jiang Ci’s side the longest. Honestly, if he hadn’t gotten married, maybe you’d still have a chance…”
He Xiaoqin scoffed internally.
Before joining the Jiang family, she had once entertained those thoughts. But after seeing Jiang Ci in person, those fantasies crumbled fast. Who would want to spend their life with a man like that? Blind, moody, and impossible to please. She was beautiful—what good was that to a man who couldn’t see?
And his temper? Unbearable.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Young Master Jiang Ci is only fit for someone like Mrs. Su Yue,” she said with deliberate sarcasm.
The servant stifled a laugh, thinking of Su Yue’s unremarkable looks. “You’re right. Honestly, I think—”
The sentence was left unfinished.
The maid’s eyes widened in panic. Su Yue had walked in.
“Young… young madam.” The servant’s voice trembled as she hurriedly lowered her head.
“Talking about me?” Su Yue’s gaze swept over them, calm but cold.
He Xiaoqin, unlike the flustered servant, maintained her poise. “We were just saying how well-matched you are with Young Master Jiang Ci.”
She knew perfectly well Su Yue hated being tied to Jiang Ci in any way. Her comment was designed to irk her. But she wasn’t afraid.
Before Su Yue arrived, over twenty caregivers had been dismissed by Jiang Ci—for reasons as fickle as their scent or the tone of their voice. Yet He Xiaoqin had endured. In front of Jiang Ci, she believed she held more importance than Su Yue, the so-called wife.
“Oh?” Su Yue caught the smug glint in her eye and smiled faintly. “I thought staff at the Jiang residence went through professional training. Surely, one of the rules must be not to criticize the employer’s family?”
“We…” He Xiaoqin faltered, surprised that Su Yue wasn’t flaring up as expected.
“Save it. I don’t care for excuses,” Su Yue cut her off, voice as smooth as silk but sharp as a blade.
Years in the entertainment industry had honed her instincts. She could read people in seconds. The servant was clearly flustered and afraid; the anger in her eyes betrayed her guilt.
Turning to leave, Su Yue paused. “Starting this noon, I’ll be dining at Xiaoyanglou. Just send my portion over with Jiang Ci’s.”
“Young madam, I’m only responsible for Young Master Jiang Ci. Your meals—” He Xiaoqin didn’t even bother to hide her disdain. What kind of woman dares to serve herself up to a blind man? And with that face?
Su Yue tilted her head, her voice feather-light. “Seems I don’t have much status in this house. Even a small task like food delivery is up for debate. Perhaps I should speak to the butler and have someone else handle it.”
He Xiaoqin flushed. Her smugness vanished, replaced with embarrassment and reluctant submission. “There’s no need. I’ll take care of it, young madam.”
“Great.” Su Yue didn’t even glance at her. “I’m on a diet, so keep the meals light.”
With that, she left, ignoring the hatred burning in He Xiaoqin’s eyes.
Not far from Xiaoyanglou, on a patch of overgrown lawn, an old wooden swing hung crookedly from a tree. Its paint had faded, the ropes stained from age, and the wood dulled to a moldy gray.
Jiang Haoyan clutched his little fluffy cat , Coriander, and carefully placed it on the swing. “Cianci, sit down. Haohao will push you.”
His big eyes sparkled with longing. He’d wanted to play on the swing for days, but he was too small to get on it by himself—and no one ever helped.
“Little master!” He Xiaoqin rushed over, pulling him back. “This swing is filthy! Don’t touch it.”
She glanced down at his little hands, now dust-covered. As expected.
Jiang Haoyan looked down shyly, curling his fingers. “It’s dirty…”
“Come, let’s wash your hands. It’s almost time to eat.” Her tone softened.
He turned, tenderly placing Coriander back in his arms from the swing. “Cianci, let’s go wash up for lunch.”
He Xiaoqin led him to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the door quietly, casting a glance outside.
She placed the cat on the counter. Jiang Haoyan stood on tiptoe, pumping out hand sanitizer and turning on the faucet with effort. Bubbles foamed on his little hands as he scrubbed.
“All clean now!” he said proudly, shaking off the water droplets, reaching for Coriander—
“Wait.” He Xiaoqin stopped him.
The little boy blinked up at her. “What’s wrong?”
Squatting down to his level, she met his eyes with a mock-sincere expression. “The young madam gave me an order. If I don’t follow it, she’ll fire me. Then no one will take care of your daddy anymore.”
“No!” Jiang Haoyan’s voice trembled. “Don’t go. My daddy needs someone. I’ll grow up fast so I can help him…”
“I don’t want to go either.” Her smile twisted. Then, with a sudden grip, she pinched the soft flesh beneath his thin shirt—hard.
Jiang Haoyan flinched, his big eyes filling with tears. She didn’t stop. Another pinch. And another.
“Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll leave.” Her voice was eerily calm. “This is our little secret. You can’t tell anyone. Or I’ll disappear.”
His delicate skin couldn’t handle the pain. Still, he pursed his lips tight, silent tears welling. It hurts. Haohao hurts…
“Meow… meow…” Coriander “cried” from the counter.
That afternoon, Su Yue returned from the hospital. The doctor said everything looked fine—her body was healthy, and the bell sound she’d heard was likely an auditory hallucination. As for the bump on her forehead, regular application of ointment would reduce the swelling.
Back at Xiaoyanglou, the curtains were drawn, casting the room in an eerie gloom. Sunlight poured outside, but the interior felt lifeless and cold—like a tomb.
Su Yue scanned the room. It was spacious, but sterile. The gray-brown hues, the sparse furniture… All hard edges and no warmth. It was Jiang Ci’s style, alright.
Though the original Su Yue had lived here for months, there was hardly a trace of her existence. A guest—nothing more.
She tossed her bag on the sofa, then strode to the window. With a sharp tug, she yanked open the heavy drapes.
Sunlight flooded in.
Now, Su Yue thought, this looks like a room where people live.
Her gaze landed on a white porcelain vase tucked in a corner. She left the room, returning shortly with a bouquet of vibrant flowers, which she arranged carefully in the vase. Once placed on the table, the entire atmosphere lifted—like color seeping into a black-and-white painting.
From the doorway, He Xiaoqin walked in carrying a lunch box. Her voice held a trace of disdain. “Master Jiang Ci won’t like that kind of decoration.”
Su Yue didn’t even look at her. “I like it. And last I checked, I live here too.”
He Xiaoqin scowled but said nothing, starting to set the table. Jiang Haoyan followed quietly behind, head lowered, without Coriander in his arms this time.
“Where’s Jiang Ci?” Su Yue asked.
“In the study. I’ll go fetch him—”
“No need.” Su Yue waved her off and walked toward the adjoining study.
The study was no better than the bedroom—dark, suffocating, and cold. It was a place untouched by life. Jiang Ci sat motionless behind the desk, eyes closed, as if frozen in time.
Has he been sitting there like that since morning? Su Yue’s heart tightened.
“Jiang Ci, it’s time to eat.” Her voice rang out, soft and gentle, like a warm current flowing into the darkness.
Though Su Yue’s looks weren’t impressive, her voice was another matter entirely. Soft, low, and clean—like the dialects of Jiangnan. In her past acting career, she’d dubbed many characters, but none of her recorded voices ever moved her like this real one did.
Jiang Ci didn’t respond.
Su Yue walked closer and reached out to tap him, but before her hand could land, he suddenly opened his eyes.
She froze.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she slowly withdrew her hand. “It’s time to eat,” she repeated softly.
Jiang Ci frowned slightly. “…Mm.”
When he emerged from the study and approached the table, his steps were steady, familiar. But then he paused.
Something felt different.
There was warmth in the air—like sunlight. And not just the scent of food—there was something else.
Flowers.
Jiang Ci’s brows drew together. The scar on the left side of his face twisted with the motion, making his appearance more terrifying.
“Throw those flowers away.”
He Xiaoqin’s eyes lit up. “Yes, sir. The young madam picked them. I’ll get rid of them immediately.” She smirked at Su Yue and reached out.
“Wait.”
Su Yue’s voice cut through the room.
But before she could take another step—
Her head throbbed violently.
DONG—
A deafening bell rang in her mind.
[Anger bell rings. Anger value: 30.]
Su Yue stood stunned.
What…?