Chapter 29: Jiang Lingyao, That Ungrateful Wretch, Is Not Even Half as Good as Lian'er

Gazing into the bone-chilling indifference in Jiang Lingyao’s eyes, Jiang Xiushu froze in place, a sudden, inexplicable stab of pain piercing his heart. He felt utterly disoriented, yet a stifling, suffocating heaviness grew within him, as if he were holding his breath against a mounting pressure.

"Am I wrong?" He turned to look toward the Duke of Zhenguo, who sat at the head of the table. "Lian'er is kinder and more generous than Jiang Lingyao; she is far better suited to be the mistress of the Pei household. Besides, Jiang Lingyao’s reputation is in tatters. If she were to marry into the Pei family, it would surely require a great deal of effort and an exorbitant amount of money."

"Spending such things on her is simply a waste!"

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, seeking validation from those around him. The members of the ducal household remained silent, and seeing this, Jiang Xiushu felt a modicum of relief. He told himself he was in the right.

Quickening her pace, Jiang Lingyao escorted the Old Madam back to her chambers. Only when the imperial physician arrived did she realize that her back was soaked through with cold sweat.

"Wipe your face."

Jiang Xiuyuan, having ushered the physician in, hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to hand her a handkerchief. Jiang Lingyao did not take it; she wiped her face with her hand instead, only then realizing that her cheeks were drenched in tears, which were streaming down her palms and into her sleeves. She ignored it, her eyes fixed intently on her grandmother. Her thoughts were a chaotic tangle, but as she recalled the leverage she held in her hands, her burning hatred steadied into a cold resolve. This time, she would make Jiang Xiushu pay the price!

Only when the physician stood up did Jiang Lingyao finally ask in a hurried voice, "How is my grandmother?"

"Alas," the physician sighed heavily. "The Old Madam’s health had improved significantly during her year at the Medicine King Valley, but today… all that effort has been squandered. There is no immediate danger, but the Old Madam has suffered internal damage, and I fear that at most..."

Jiang Lingyao stood frozen, her nails digging deep into her palms. Suddenly, she dared not ask the question that hung in the air. Lowering her eyes, she choked out, "I beg you to be direct, Physician. How much time does my grandmother have left?"

"At most a year, at the least three months." The physician looked at her pale face and sighed. Remembering how gaunt she had appeared the last time he saw her, he found her quite pitiable. A young lady of a noble house, yet she was constantly found in such a wretched state—who could help but lament such a sight?

"When will she wake up?"

"She will wake within the day. I shall go and prescribe some medicine to nourish her."

Jiang Lingyao nodded silently, staring at the candle shadows flickering on the floor, her expression nearly vacant. At most a year, at the least three months? Grandmother had been doing so much better just yesterday when she returned; how could she have so little time left? She covered her face and stood where she was.

Jiang Xiuyuan pursed his lips and stepped forward to gently wipe her tears and pat her shoulder, only to find that when Jiang Lingyao lifted her head, her face was deathly pale and devoid of tears. Her dry-eyed expression was far more unsettling than if she had wept, her gaze vacant and hollow.

An inexplicable sense of unease stirred in Jiang Xiuyuan. "Mingzhu, why don't you go back and rest for a while, and then come back to watch over Grandmother?"

Jiang Lingyao curled the corners of her lips, looking up with cold indifference. "Go back? How could I go back? I still have things left to do."

"Nanny Li, I trouble you to look after Grandmother. I shall return shortly."

She strode out of the room, and Jiang Xiuyuan started in surprise, only realizing once he regained his composure that she was walking straight toward the dining hall.

"Mingzhu." The Duke of Zhenguo frowned from his seat at the head of the table. "Is your grandmother alright?"

Jiang Lingyao stepped into the room, reached up to smooth a stray lock of hair at her temple, and then said with measured composure, "The physician says that Grandmother has at most a year left, and at the least, only three months."

The hall fell into a sudden, heavy silence. The Duke of Zhenguo sighed. "Your grandmother is in poor health, and your third brother was reckless today. Jiang Xiushu, from this day forward, you are confined to your quarters for three months, punished with ten strokes of the cane, and ordered to kneel in the ancestral hall for three days."

At these words, Jiang Xiushu’s face drained of color, yet he could find no words to refute the judgment. Ten strokes would likely leave him bedridden for a full month. But his grandmother had indeed been harmed by his words; he could not argue, nor did he dare to. Driven by an inexplicable impulse, he looked toward Jiang Lingyao.

He stared at her fixedly, his eyes harboring a hint of pleading he was not even aware of, as if he were trying to soften his stance. Jiang Lingyao’s expression remained unchanged. When their eyes met, she curled her lips in a cold, mocking smile. Only when she saw the blood still flowing from the gash on Jiang Xiushu’s head did she look away, satisfied.

*Why does she have no reaction? Could it be that the wound I deliberately left unbandaged has already healed?*

Jiang Xiushu froze, instinctively reaching up to touch his forehead, gasping in pain as he did so. The wound was still there; blood was even streaming down his face. Had she not seen it? He stared at the blood on his palm, looking up at Jiang Lingyao in utter disbelief, his eyes wide.

When he was a mischievous child and constantly getting hurt, Jiang Lingyao would always tear up in distress at the sight of his wounds. It was because of him that she had developed the habit of hoarding medicines, ensuring that Mingzhu Courtyard was always stocked with the finest salves for wounds.

"Father, ten strokes is too severe; how can Third Brother endure it!" Song Lian’er suddenly burst into tears, her eyes red as she spoke with aggrieved indignation. "Third Brother has already been beaten until his head is broken and bleeding by my sister—is that not enough?"

Everyone fell silent. The Duke of Zhenguo frowned in deep thought, while Jiang Xiushu turned his gaze toward Song Lian’er, his eyes brimming with gratitude. How wonderful Lian’er was, still knowing how to care for him, unlike the heartless, ungrateful wretch that was Jiang Lingyao!