“Qianbai!”

A massive fireball exploded, scattering sparks everywhere. The burned commoners began fleeing frantically in the opposite direction.

Dengtian Tower was built entirely of nanmu wood. Under the great fire, it quickly ignited, instantly transforming into a tower of flames.

The Third Prince fell from high above. Song Fu was so startled that he stretched out both hands in panic to catch him.

“Lord Song, be careful.”

The burning Dengtian Tower continuously emitted crackling sounds of wood splitting. Wooden blocks fell one after another. Jiang Yan suddenly saw a massive wooden beam falling diagonally from above toward Song Fu’s head.

Without time to react, he flew forward and threw himself over Song Fu, shielding him beneath his body.

He knew how important the Third Prince was to the Song family, but he understood even better how important Song Fu was to that person.

In that person’s heart, even if everyone else in this world died, it still wouldn’t compare to Song Fu being alive.

The massive wooden beam fell extremely fast. Jiang Yan had no time to rise and dodge, so he could only firmly protect Song Fu’s head.

His protective movement was too swift—Xiao Jiye couldn’t even extend his hand to pull him back. Not far away, Shen Qianbai also fell following the flames. Xiao Jiye had no capacity to worry about anything else and could only use his momentum to leap up and catch the Third Prince falling from the rooftop in his arms.

After rescuing him, he discovered that half of Shen Qianbai’s face and body were mangled from the explosion.

“Jiang Yan…”

Without time to think further, after gently setting down the Third Prince to one side, he hurried to check on Jiang Yan. This single glance made Xiao Jiye’s eyes widen in shock.

The massive wooden beam had crashed onto his back. Scattered burning embers mixed with bright red blood splattered everywhere. Jiang Yan lay limply on top of Song Fu, his life or death unknown.

Xiao Jiye stepped forward to push the wooden beam aside, then half-embraced Jiang Yan.

“Jiang Yan, wake up.”

Song Fu was also utterly shocked, extending his hand to check Jiang Yan’s breath.

“Come back to Song Manor with me. The former Director of the Imperial Hospital is currently at my residence.”

Turning to rise and taking Shen Qianbai into his arms, Song Fu saw the wounds on his face and furrowed his brows deeply.

The commoners on the street had not yet dispersed. Everywhere were cries and wails. Xiao Jiye only felt his hands being stained red by warm liquid. For an instant, he didn’t even dare to lower his head to look at Jiang Yan’s expression.

“Ugh…”

Amid the jostling and crowding, Jiang Yan suddenly coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood.

“Hold on a bit longer. We’ll reach Song Manor very soon.”

Xiao Jiye looked down, only to see Jiang Yan gazing calmly at the sweet candy shop before him.

For some reason, seeing this suddenly ignited anger within him.

“Go this way.”

Song Fu pointed to a household. The two vaulted over the wall, nearly frightening the souls out of a couple who had been leaning against their door to prevent the crowd from rushing in.

Song Manor wasn’t far from Dongzhi Gate. Taking the back alleys, they reached the rear courtyard of Song Manor. Song Fu approached the gate and kicked open the corner door.

“The Young Master has returned! The Young Master and the Third Prince have returned!”

The gatekeeper shouted in alarm. Upon hearing that Shen Qianbai was present, a crowd of people rushed forth and surrounded Song Fu.

“Young Master, please hurry. Elder He is in the front hall.”

Over a dozen people poured out from the inner and outer courtyards of Song Manor. The remaining servants had all gone out to search for Song Lan’an and Madam Song. Today was supposed to be the Mid-Autumn Grand Banquet, and the entire household had been outside. Now that chaos had erupted outside while their own master remained unaccounted for, everyone was in a panic.

Fortunately, Song Fu had now returned with Shen Qianbai, giving them some breathing room.

A group of people supported Song Fu and Shen Qianbai as they hurriedly departed, leaving Xiao Jiye and Jiang Yan behind.

Xiao Jiye followed forward, about to lose his temper when Jiang Yan suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

“I want… to see her.”

“Take care of yourself first.”

At a time like this, he was still thinking about that so-called sister-in-law. He truly didn’t know what was in Jiang Yan’s head.

Hearing this, Jiang Yan’s expression became dazed, his eyes revealing sorrow.

He wanted to see her.

Looking up at the bright moon in the sky, Jiang Yan suddenly recalled the day he first met Song Wan.

In his heart, Song Wan was like this pure and noble moon—something one could only gaze upon from afar but could never touch.

Jiang Yan closed his eyes, his expression peaceful and gentle.

Seeing this, Xiao Jiye’s brows shot up, anger filling his heart.

He looked around and, seeing no one nearby, steeled himself and carried Jiang Yan over the decorative gate.

In the inner residence of Song Manor, only one courtyard had no lamps lit in its rooms. With no servants guarding it now, he guessed this must be Song Wan’s chamber. After a moment’s thought, he vaulted inside.

The young lady’s boudoir was filled with delicate trinkets everywhere. Xiao Jiye swept aside the beaded curtain on the door and placed Jiang Yan on the young lady’s embroidered bed.

“Wait here. I’ll go find a physician.”

Taking out a fire starter from his sleeve, he lit the candle on the table, then Xiao Jiye withdrew from the room.

The dim candlelight flickered unsteadily. Jiang Yan touched the bedding beneath him and slowly revealed a smile.

This was her chamber—he knew it.

Her belongings were just like her person. Though cold and dignified on the surface, upon closer examination, one could always glimpse a tenderness that ordinary people found difficult to perceive.

Three or four fragrant pillows lay on the young lady’s embroidered bed. Jiang Yan reached out to gently stroke them, yet didn’t dare truly touch them.

Not until he felt the blood from his body gradually soaking through the bedding beneath him did a trace of remorse appear in his eyes.

In the end, he had soiled her things.

Though this room had been unoccupied for a long time, servants came to clean it at intervals. Lying within, Jiang Yan could still smell a faint floral fragrance.

This floral scent felt both familiar and strange to him.

In a daze, Jiang Yan seemed to see the young Song Wan.

The day he first met Song Wan, Concubine Liu had once again, as usual, forced him to go before Madam to show filial piety.

At that time, news of the Old Marquis and Jiang Xingjian’s misfortune at the border had just arrived. The entire marquis manor was shrouded in sorrow, yet only the corners of Concubine Liu’s lips lifted day after day, unable to be suppressed.

When the Old Marquis was alive, she would occasionally torment him, making him frame Concubine Zhou or Concubine Zheng with his injuries. Or, with the intention of making the Marquis pity his illegitimate son, she would deliberately leave him outside in winter, or use various things to injure his hands and feet, seeking to lure the Marquis to her courtyard.

This tactic had always worked before. But after the Old Marquis discovered that each month he was either ill or constantly injured, he finally saw through Concubine Liu’s intentions.

Jiang Yan knew the Old Marquis truly had some father-son affection for him. It was precisely because of this that he gradually distanced himself from their mother and son.

But he had been wrong.

Previously, whenever the Marquis visited Concubine Liu’s courtyard, she would always lament that he had some use. Thus, for the next three or four days, when Concubine Liu was in good spirits, she would spare him, give him some food, or show him a pleasant expression.

But when Concubine Liu discovered he was no longer useful and could no longer attract the Marquis’s attention through tormenting him, his days truly became difficult.

Concubine Liu went mad, intensifying her torment of him. At first, it was to gain the Old Marquis’s attention; later, it was to vent her private grievances. This situation only ended when news arrived from the border of the Marquis and heir’s deaths in battle.

That period was the most comfortable time Jiang Yan had before meeting Song Wan.

His birth mother held him daily, saying he was well-behaved and intelligent, saying he was extraordinarily talented.

In his limited memories, the only time Concubine Liu made him clothing was during that period.

Back then, he would think that he could finally be like Jiang Yi and Jiang Xing—cared for by his birth mother, constantly protected and comforted in her embrace.

He thought the heavens had finally heard his daily prayers, causing Concubine Liu to reform and become like Concubine Zhou or Concubine Zheng.

But that was not the truth.

The truth was that one’s innate nature could never change, no matter what.

With Chengyang Marquis Manor suddenly losing both the Marquis and the heir, he became the person most likely to inherit the title.

Concubine Liu’s daily smiles were merely to make him curry favor with Madam and Old Madam. She even hoped Madam would show great mercy and register him under her name, allowing him to become legitimate in one stroke and rightfully grasp Chengyang Marquis Manor in his hands.

Thinking of this, a mocking smile appeared at the corners of Jiang Yan’s lips.

Liu Zhu was indeed a fool—a fool who habitually indulged in fantasies.

To make him curry favor with Madam, Liu Zhu had somehow obtained Jiang Xingjian’s clothing for him to wear, then made him go pour tea for Madam.

Jiang Yan still remembered that upon seeing him that day, Madam had frozen in place. After a long while, she grabbed the hot tea from the tray and hurled it viciously at his head.

“Little beast, you think now that my Yi’er is gone, you can take his place? Dream on!”

“Vile thing born of lowliness, presuming to impersonate my Yi’er? Why don’t you take a piss and look at yourself—are you worthy?”

The scalding tea water poured over his head. Jiang Yan was both in pain and frightened, crying as he returned to Concubine Liu’s room.

“Concubine Mother, Madam doesn’t like this child dressed like this. This child never wants to dress like this again.”

Jiang Yan cried as he removed the clothing, blood flowing from his head. The bright red blood covered his eyes, preventing him from clearly seeing Concubine Liu’s expression. Just as he raised his hand to wipe away the blood on his face, Jiang Yan felt sharp pain on his scalded cheek.

Liu Zhu swung her arm in a full arc and slapped him across the face: “Little beast, do you know how much effort I spent to obtain these clothes? You say you’ll take them off, so you take them off—why don’t you peel off that layer of rotten skin while you’re at it?”

Sharp nails dug into Jiang Yan’s cheek. Jiang Yan only felt as if the skin on his face was being torn off alive.

“Beastly whelp, I see your wings have hardened—you dare disobey even my words? Go apologize to Madam. If Madam doesn’t forgive you, then kneel at Jiangxiang Courtyard until you die. I’d like to see whether Old Madam will care about this sole seedling in the manor.”

Liu Zhu grabbed Jiang Yan’s ear and threw him directly out the door.

Qing Zhai stood to the side. Seeing her young master covered in wounds from head to face, she too began crying.

Being assigned to the second household meant she was a servant born into the family without much background. She could only watch as Concubine Liu beat and scolded her master daily, yet didn’t know how to intervene.

“Young Master, let this servant wipe you clean… If the manor’s servants see, Old Madam will have words.”

Jiang Yan pressed his lips together, his eyes full of panic.

Concubine Mother had been getting better, but today, for some reason, she had reverted to how she was before.

Jiang Yan timidly lowered his head, looking at his slightly curved fingers, suddenly recalling the last time Concubine Mother was like this, forcefully smashing an ink stone onto his hand.

She had intended to make the Marquis feel sorry for him and come check on him, but who would have thought that upon just seeing the Marquis, he merely praised her for taking good care of him recently, and Concubine Liu never mentioned his hand injury again.

“Young Master.”

Qing Zhai wanted to step forward and take Jiang Yan’s hand, but he pushed her away.

“No one cares.”

No one cared whether he was injured or whether it hurt.

Jiang Yan pushed Qing Zhai away and ran out of Concubine Liu’s courtyard alone.

He was going to find his uncle. Uncle should still care about him.

Jiang Yan ran out of the inner courtyard straight toward the servants’ quarters where Liu Chengxiang stayed. But before he could even enter, he heard Liu Chengxiang say inside the room: “Both the old and young are dead. As long as we keep Liu Zhu happy, won’t this marquis manor eventually be ours?”

Liu Chengxiang’s wife lowered her eyes and said: “No matter how much you humor your sister, she shouldn’t treat Second Young Master like that. I see her beating him to death every day. What if something happens?”

“Second Young Master might grow up and resent her later, and you’ll be implicated too.”

“Don’t worry, that won’t happen.”

Liu Chengxiang laughed heartily: “That useless thing acts like he’s never been weaned, following behind Liu Zhu every day calling ‘Concubine Mother, Concubine Mother.’ If Liu Zhu so much as shows him a pleasant expression, he’d be happy enough to kneel down and lick her feet.”

“That thing has the temperament of a dog—the harder you beat him, the closer he gets to Liu Zhu.”

“You’re full of shit! I’ve never seen you beat our Liansheng like that!”

Liu Chengxiang glared at her: “Our Liansheng is nothing like that shameless wretch who won’t go away no matter how you beat him.”

Jiang Yan stood dumbly outside the door, never knowing his uncle saw him this way.

In the past, Uncle had clearly been very good to him, bringing him pastries from outside, occasionally giving him two pieces of candy.

In his memories, the candy Uncle gave was always very sweet…

Jiang Yan jumped down from the steps and stumbled into the artificial mountain in a daze.

He didn’t like the marquis manor. He didn’t like Old Madam, didn’t like Mother Jiang, and didn’t like Concubine Zhou or Concubine Zheng even more. He also didn’t like any of the manor’s illegitimate sons.

He knew he couldn’t compare to Jiang Yi, but why was it that among fellow illegitimate children, Jiang Jing, Jiang Xing, and Jiang Ang all lived better than him?

He had seen Jiang Jing chasing butterflies in the courtyard. When she grew tired, Concubine Zhou would hold her and laugh.

Concubine Zhou’s laughter was very gentle. She would even tie Jiang Jing’s hair in the courtyard when she was young.

Concubine Zhou had also tied his hair once, but he didn’t dare see her often.

He feared that seeing Concubine Zhou too much would make him hate Liu Zhu.

Concubine Zheng was also very good to Jiang Ang. Jiang Ang was still small, and she would carry him wherever she went. Jiang Yan had even seen Concubine Zheng bend down and gently kiss Jiang Ang’s cheek.

Concubine Liu had never been affectionate with him. Concubine Liu had never combed his hair for him.

In that moment, Jiang Yan finally understood he was different.

He was different from Jiang Yi, who was legitimate-born and enjoyed boundless love. He was also different from the other illegitimate children who had their concubine mothers’ affection.

Jiang Yan climbed over the artificial mountain crying, desperately wanting to leave the marquis manor.

He wanted to find someone like himself—someone who suffered as he did, someone no one cared about or paid attention to.

But the marquis manor was too large. Jiang Yan climbed along the artificial mountain for a long time but still couldn’t see the scenery outside.

He sat dejectedly against the base of the wall, finally unable to hold back his wailing sobs.

“Who’s there?”

A girl’s light, delicate voice came from the other side of the wall. Hearing this, Jiang Yan cried out: “Who are you?”

The other side fell silent. Jiang Yan suddenly felt afraid this person would also leave him.

After a long silence, he finally heard her say: “I am Jiang Yi’s widow.”

“So you’re my sister-in-law.”

A few days ago, a young lady carrying a memorial tablet had married into the manor—he knew about it.

He envied Jiang Yi greatly. In life, Jiang Yi had been loved; in death, someone still remembered him.

Jiang Yan thought that if he died, certainly no one would care. It would be like withered winter grass slowly rotting into mud, unable to create even the slightest ripple in anyone’s heart.

Thinking of this, he cried again.

On the other side of the wall, Song Wan softly spoke: “Are you Jiang Yan?”