Jiang Lingwan knew she was being foolish and shameless, feeling quite embarrassed inside. She had just boldly declared she would pay the full fare, yet now she had no money. Blushing, she said, “Ahem, Young Master Xiao, there’s a small matter I’d like to discuss with you.”
Xiao Zhan seemed oblivious to her embarrassment, merely gazing at her with his beautiful, faintly smiling peach-blossom eyes. “Oh?”
Though his voice was gentle and his expression normal, Jiang Lingwan felt as if he were mocking her—or perhaps she was mistaken.
“It’s like this, I didn’t bring any money…”
Just as she was about to explain further, Xiao Zhan spoke: “No matter. The young lady may use the jade pendant at her waist to pay the fare.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Qingfeng’s face—the young master was actually asking this girl for money.
That jade pendant was worth seventy or eighty taels of silver. Surely this young girl wouldn’t agree, right?
Indeed, Jiang Lingwan had no intention of agreeing.
The twelve-year-old Jiang Lingwan was naive and spoiled by her mother, accustomed to fine food, clothing, and luxuries. She spent lavishly and never worried about money.
But the Jiang Lingwan before him now was one who had lived a second life. She had experienced her dowry being seized, being divorced, hiding penniless in a nunnery, and scraping by day after day, racking her brains just to fill her stomach and earn a little money.
That ordeal had tempered her character, transforming her from a pampered, proud young lady into a resilient and mature woman. It also left her with one lingering trait: a love for money, succinctly described as stinginess.
When she went out today, she wore nothing at all. It was only after her maid persuaded her that she put on a jade pendant to weigh down her skirt—and even then, she chose the cheapest one, the kind she wouldn’t have glanced at before, fearing it might get lost or damaged.
Now, that pendant was about to be taken by someone else. If she had known, she would never have worn it.
Oh well! Since he wanted it, she might as well give it to him. After all, she had ridden in his boat.
Jiang Lingwan smiled as she untied the pendant and handed it over, thinking she appeared generous and cheerful, unaware that her pained, reluctant expression was rather amusing.
Qingfeng reached out to take it, but to his surprise, his master personally accepted the pendant.
“Thank you for the ride, young master.” Jiang Lingwan stepped ashore, her feet firmly on the ground, and immediately felt at ease.
She cupped her hands toward Xiao Zhan and smiled brightly, her round apricot eyes crinkling slightly with a hint of girlish playfulness.
Xiao Zhan stood at the bow of the boat, the wind billowing his sleeves like an immortal ready to ride the wind away at any moment.
He smiled faintly and nodded.
Xiao Zhan’s voice was gentle and refined: “You may come to redeem this pendant after fetching money from home. For now, I am staying at Tinglan Waterside Pavilion.”
Like Pengdao Yaotai, Tinglan Waterside Pavilion was also the name of a small island.
“No need.” Jiang Lingwan raised her eyebrows, declaring boldly, “It’s just a jade pendant, not worth much. Since you gave me a ride, it’s only fair you keep it.”
Xiao Zhan said nothing more, turning to sit back in the boat. Qingfeng rowed the oar, and the boat began its return journey.
Once the boat had moved away from the shore, Qingfeng couldn’t help but speak up: “Fifth Master, if that young girl really goes to Tinglan Waterside Pavilion to find you, should we inform Prince Nanchang and ask him to lend us the pavilion for a while?”
Xiao Zhan gave a slight nod. “Mm.”
Qingfeng scratched his head. “Fifth Master, that girl seemed so familiar with Hei Zai. Don’t you think there’s something odd about that?”
Xiao Zhan remained silent, merely lifting his eyelids to glance at him.
Qingfeng rubbed his nose and gave a dry chuckle. “Even someone as dull as me could see it, so you must have noticed long ago. My question was pointless, utterly pointless, heh heh.”
Xiao Zhan tapped his fingers twice on the golden nanmu wood table, his gaze inscrutable. “Investigate. Within twelve hours, bring me everything you find.”
Qingfeng also put away his smile and respectfully acknowledged the order.
Jiang Lingwan had also left the lakeside and reached the main road. After walking only a few steps, she encountered Zhuzhi.
Zhuzhi rushed over as if flying, her expression panicked and her face covered in sweat, almost on the verge of tears. “My lady, you’ve finally returned! You scared me half to death.”
“It’s alright, just a scare but no real danger. Are you alright?” Jiang Lingwan comfortingly patted her arm and looked her over.
Zhuzhi shook her head, still trembling with fear. “I’m fine.”
Once they confirmed each other was safe and sound, they hailed a carriage to return home.
As soon as they boarded the carriage, Zhuzhi asked, “Miss, how did you get back to shore?”
Not wanting to worry Zhuzhi, Jiang Lingwan briefly described how Xiao Zhan had brought her back.
“Master Xiao is not only handsome but also kind-hearted, truly proving the saying that one’s character is reflected in their appearance.”
Unexpectedly, Zhuzhi let out a startled “Ah!” and exclaimed, “You… you gave him the jade pendant?”
Jiang Lingwan was puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Zhuzhi quickly changed her tone, forcing a smile. “That Master Xiao is indeed a good person for bringing you back. If he hadn’t lent a hand, I would have already run home to seek help by now. If Lord and Lady found out, they would surely have me beaten. Not only did he help you, but he also saved my life. We really should thank Master Xiao properly…”
She rambled on and on, trying to divert Jiang Lingwan’s attention.
In the past, Jiang Lingwan would have been fooled by this, but how could the present Jiang Lingwan fail to see through her attempt to cover up?
“Zhuzhi,” she frowned slightly. “What were you originally going to say?”
“Huh?”
Zhuzhi hadn’t expected her thoughts to be seen through by Jiang Lingwan. She immediately flushed red, stumbling over her words, too embarrassed to speak. “That Master Xiao is so handsome and uses such luxurious things… could he… could he be a kept man?”
Her speculation wasn’t entirely baseless. There were many villas of nobles around Lake Dabo, and private residences were also built along the shore, including numerous entertainment venues—brothels and Xianggu Guan.
Xianggu Guan, like brothels, were places of pleasure where people sold their looks for the entertainment of the wealthy. The only difference was that brothels employed women, while Xianggu Guan featured exceptionally handsome men whose beauty rivaled that of women.
As the saying goes, Xianggu resembles a maiden but is not a maiden, hence the name Xianggu Guan.
Instinctively, Jiang Lingwan was reluctant to think of that Master Xiao as someone who sold his looks.
“Probably not, right? That Master Xiao seemed gentle yet dignified, not the type.”
Though she said this, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt.
In her past life, she had seen two kept men raised by Prince Nanchang. Not only were they elegant and handsome, with an imposing presence free of any vulgarity, but they also carried themselves with remarkable grace and dignity, appearing even more composed and handsome than wealthy young nobles.
If Master Xiao truly was also a kept man, it would indeed be a pity.
“Forget it.” She suppressed the regret in her heart and said, “That jade pendant was taken from my mother’s shop. It doesn’t have any unique markings of mine, and neither its design nor material is particularly outstanding. If he wants it, let him have it. It’s no big deal.”
“After all, the purpose of our trip has already been achieved.”
Due to unsuitable climate and soil, the Double Moon Coconut only bore one fruit per year. She gently touched the coconut, feeling reassured. Now, all that remained was to wait for her mother to discuss the matter of amicable separation with her father.
Jiang Bochen did not return to Huininghoufu until three days later.
Marquis Huining had suddenly fainted and remained unconscious. He, along with Second Master and Fourth Master, had attended to him day and night for three days—calling for doctors, brewing medicinal soups—busy and frantic. Yet, Marquis Huining showed no signs of waking; instead, his condition grew increasingly severe.
Old Imperial Physician Zhao made a decisive call, instructing them to carry Marquis Huining back to the marquis’s residence and prepare for the funeral arrangements.
Jiang Bochen broke down in tears on the spot. “Uncle Zhao, my father is like a brother to you. At a time like this, only you can save him. You can’t just abandon him.”
“Enough, enough,” Old Imperial Physician Zhao retorted sharply. “Crying so pitifully—those who know might think you’re weeping over the loss of your title, while those who don’t would assume your father has already died.”
Jiang Bochen’s sobbing abruptly ceased, though inwardly he was screaming, But my father really is about to die, isn’t he?
Yet, he dared only to complain in his heart, not uttering a single word aloud, for Old Imperial Physician Zhao had struck a nerve.
Although the Jiang Family were also meritorious officials, having been granted the title of Marquis Huining in the past, their achievements were relatively modest, not particularly outstanding. Thus, they only held the title without the Iron Certificate of Hereditary Title, meaning the title would expire after three generations.
Unfortunately, this generation of Marquis Huining happened to be the third.
In theory, the title should be reclaimed by the court in this generation. However, to demonstrate benevolence and magnanimity, the emperor often allowed them to inherit it for one or even two more generations.
The prerequisite was that Marquis Huining had to appear before the emperor, submit a memorial requesting the court to reclaim the title, after which the emperor would graciously permit an additional generation of inheritance. At the same time, he would be required to submit a memorial requesting the appointment of an heir. Once he passed away, the title would then be bestowed upon the heir.
Now, with Marquis Huining unconscious and unable to submit any memorial, if he were to pass away just like that, the Jiang Family’s title would come to an end.
The heirship and marquis title that Jiang Bochen had long coveted were about to vanish into thin air. Not only that, but he would also have to observe a three-year mourning period at home.
With the title gone and his official position at the Board of Works lost as well, it was no wonder he was crying.
Jiang Bochen nearly knelt down to kowtow to Old Imperial Physician Zhao. “Uncle Zhao, please think of another way.”
“Stop looking so mournful. Wipe away those crocodile tears of yours. You’ll have plenty of time to cry when your father truly passes away.”
After a round of cold mockery, Old Imperial Physician Zhao continued, “I once knew a physician in my early years. His medical skills were exceptional, capable of bringing the dead back to life. However, this person had a peculiar temperament and used medicine boldly. Ordinary people dared not seek his treatment; only those at their wit’s end in dire situations would turn to him.”
“Although this person is not well-known among the common folk, he is highly regarded in the Apricot Grove Realm and is known as ‘Ghost Hand.’ I will go find him to treat your father.”
Jiang Bochen was both shocked and overjoyed. “Thank you, Uncle Zhao. If this person is so skilled, then my father’s illness can be cured.”
“You’re celebrating too soon. Whether he is willing to come is uncertain, and even if he does, there’s no guarantee he can cure your father. This is merely a last-ditch effort—trying to save a horse already as good as dead.”
Jiang Bochen: …
Old Imperial Physician Zhao said, “Whatever matters you still have at hand, finish them quickly in the next two days. Your official duties must also be arranged properly. If he can treat her in two days, you will have plenty to do. If he cannot, then no one in this world can, and you should begin preparing for the funeral arrangements.”
Jiang Bochen’s heart felt heavy.
At the Board of Works, he held the position of a Zhubu, a Sixth Rank, Lower Grade official, performing idle clerical duties that could be handed over to someone else at any time.
However, Mei Xueniang’s “illness” could no longer be delayed. He needed to make her take the medicine quickly so she could recover sooner, and he could finally rid himself of this lingering worry.