When Jiang Xingjian arrived at Xiuyan Pavilion, he saw that Lin Jiayue was indeed seriously ill.

“Brother Xingjian…”

Lin Jiayue lay on the couch, her cheeks flushed red from high fever. In just a few days, she had grown much thinner. Her cat-like eyes appeared even larger, looking at Jiang Xingjian with such moistness that his heart couldn’t help but feel compassion.

“How did you suddenly fall ill?”

Lin Jiayue pressed her lips together, staring at him as if wanting to cry but unable to.

She couldn’t eat or sleep well all day. During the day she was beaten and scolded, and at night she was frightened and anxious—how could she not fall ill? Before seeing Jiang Xingjian, she had even begun to hate him. But seeing him again, Lin Jiayue discovered just how much she liked him.

“Jiang Xingjian…”

“I’m here.”

Lin Jiayue suddenly burst into tears: “I like you, do you know? I’ve suffered so much for you because I like you. But have you seen it?”

“Because I like you, I followed you from Suhe to the capital. Because I like you, I stayed at the Marquis residence to learn those rules. Because I like you, I’m willing to wrong myself.”

“But Jiang Xingjian, are you worth my affection?”

Burning with pain all over from the high fever, Lin Jiayue licked her tight, aching cheeks that showed no trace of injury, and cried even harder.

That rhinoceros horn ruler was thin and flexible. Wrapped with a wet cloth, it truly showed no injury on the face, but every night she experienced nerve pain. Her teeth hurt, her head hurt, her feet hurt—there wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t hurt.

No matter how much she studied the rules, she could never become a refined lady like Song Wan. Even if Nanny Li taught her for ten years, or even a hundred years, she could never transform into the noble lady they demanded!

“I do like you, but I can’t live this kind of life controlled by others for the rest of my life just for you, Jiang Xingjian.”

“Jiang Xingjian, where have you been these past few days? Where were you when I was sick and suffering? Were you with Song Wan?”

“Jiang Xingjian, I truly can’t endure life at the Marquis residence.”

“I regret it. I regret it.”

Lin Jiayue struggled to sit up. Scalding teardrops fell onto Jiang Xingjian’s palm, burning until his entire heart wrenched.

“Jiayue…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

Jiang Xingjian wrapped his arm around Lin Jiayue’s waist and pulled her horizontally into his embrace.

The young lady in his arms had burning skin, her entire body flushed an abnormal red from the high fever. She kept shedding tears but didn’t make a single sound, only occasionally sobbing harder and letting out a few soft whimpers.

Lin Jiayue had always been cheerful and lively, never this fragile before.

Carefully placing her into the bedding, Jiang Xingjian frowned: “Why didn’t Jiayue seek the residence physician when you became so ill?”

“The residence physician has been waiting in the courtyard. It was Concubine Lin who said she wouldn’t allow the physician to enter until she had seen the First Young Master.”

Jiang Xingjian glanced at the young lady in the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Let him in.”

The residence physician prescribed medicine for Lin Jiayue. After she had taken it, she finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

It wasn’t until the middle of the night that she slowly awakened.

“You’re awake?”

Lin Jiayue responded with a soft sound through her nasal voice.

Jiang Xingjian lifted the bed curtain and sat beside her. Lin Jiayue turned away, not looking at him, yet couldn’t help but shed tears.

“I’m sorry for letting you suffer such grievances.”

She buried her head in the bedding, biting her lip to vent her pain.

Jiang Xingjian pulled her out and held her firmly in his embrace. He stared woodenly at a point before him and said quietly, “I know you have deep feelings for me. So do I for you.”

“But the marriage alliance between the Jiang and Song families—Song Wan married into the Marquis residence with a memorial tablet and lived as a widow for six years. All of the capital knows this. The Marquis residence absolutely cannot divorce and remarry now.”

Lin Jiayue seemed about to struggle. Jiang Xingjian tightened his arms: “I promise you, I will do everything in my power to give you what you want.”

“You mean, even if I want the position of legitimate wife of the Marquis residence, it’s possible?”

Jiang Xingjian didn’t speak, but neither did he refuse.

Lin Jiayue waited a long time without hearing him speak. Her nose tingled: “Are you just coaxing me, or do you truly have some plan? Can I still trust you?”

“Trust me.”

Jiang Xingjian gently stroked her hair, tenderly comforting her: “Tomorrow I will move into Xiuyan Pavilion.”

For legitimate descendants of prestigious families like him and Song Wan, regardless of gender, they were all supported by the strength of the entire clan. What they carried on their shoulders was the rise and fall, glory and defeat of the entire clan. It was absolutely impossible to abandon the clan’s safety for personal desires.

Moreover, the enmity of patricide could not be erased. Furthermore, in the struggle between the three or five, there could be only one victor. Between the Jiang and Song families, only one could survive.

Regardless of which family won or lost in the future, he would settle Song Wan properly and protect her safety to honor their childhood affection.

This was all he could do, and nothing more.

Thinking of this, Jiang Xingjian’s heart suddenly ached.

He believed that if Ah Wan were in his position, she would make the same choice. After all, scions and daughters of prestigious families were never in control of their own destinies, much less able to indulge in romantic sentiments.

After coaxing Lin Jiayue to sleep, Jiang Xingjian went alone to his study.

The Harmonious Immortals painting that Imperial Consort Yun had sent was kept by him in a brocade box. Jiang Xingjian took it out and studied it for a long time, a faint smile forming at the corners of his lips.

The man’s gaze meticulously traced from top to bottom, his serious manner as if he wanted to engrave this painting into his mind.

“First Young Master.”

Ling Yun came in carrying a brass basin. After Jiang Xingjian had her set it on the floor, he said, “Tomorrow, move my things into Xiuyan Pavilion.”

Ling Yun looked up in surprise. Seeing that his mind was made up, she could only silently agree.

Jiang Xingjian still held that painting in his hand. After examining it carefully, he picked up the candle on the desk and lit the edge.

The flames quickly burned the painting to ashes. A masterpiece handed down through generations thus vanished into smoke and scattered like mist.