Chapter Twelve: I Mistook Jiang Lingyao for Lian'er

Jiang Lingyao listened to Song Lian’er’s evasions, unable to hide the sarcasm on her face.

Yet Jiang Xiuyuan believed her words and grew even angrier. “Jiang Lingyao! Are you the one speaking to me?”

Jiang’s mother sobbed with a trembling voice, “Mingzhu! How could you do such a thing? I know you’re upset about the temple matters, but how can you be so vicious as to want Lian’er dead?”

Jiang Xiuyuan saw his mother wobble and quickly ordered, “Father, let me handle things here. Please take Mother back first.”

Jiang’s father responded and, before leaving, glared coldly at Jiang Lingyao, “Unfilial daughter, you truly disappoint me!”

“Speak up! Do you want to make Mother ill from worry as well?”

Jiang Xiuyuan grabbed Jiang Lingyao’s collar, his eyes fierce with fury. Wen Qiu bit his wrist, but he kicked her away.

She scrambled up, voice sharp and mournful, “Miss, how can you speak like that? Your throat was damaged by smoke, how can you talk?”

Jiang Lingyao’s hair was disheveled as he held her by the collar, hatred deepening in her eyes.

“Throat… throat damaged?”

He paused, his anger suddenly doused as if by cold water. Panicked for a moment, he then realized—Jiang Lingyao had also been in the fire just now; she had barely escaped with her life.

His breathing caught. Hastily, he released her and, flustered, helped her sit upright. “Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Someone, a doctor! Where is everyone? Sixth Miss is here, haven’t you seen?”

The residence doctor cowered, trembling under Jiang Xiuyuan’s rage. “You told us to attend to Miss Lian’er earlier.”

Jiang Xiuyuan was momentarily stunned, casting a guilty glance at Jiang Lingyao before his fury flared again. “Still making excuses? What do you think you are?”

Jiang Lingyao smirked inwardly, seeing through his anger to the insecurity beneath it, and couldn’t help but curl her lips.

“Where are the others? Bring water to Sixth Miss!”

Those who had been clustered around Song Lian’er immediately rushed over to Jiang Lingyao, their voices full of concern as they offered her lukewarm tea.

Jiang Lingyao did not resist. Leaning against Jiang Xiuyuan, she finished the entire cup slowly, regaining her composure, then suddenly lifted her hand.

“Smack—”

The slap echoed, shocking the entire courtyard.

Jiang Xiuyuan covered his face, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jiang Lingyao, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Jiang Lingyao sneered, pushing herself upright and staring directly at him. “I’m returning the inexplicable slap you gave me just now!”

“Why are you looking at me like that, Brother? Do you want to hit me blindly again?”

“You… you’re still angry at me.” Jiang Xiuyuan forcibly suppressed his rage, his guilt diminishing somewhat. He finally feigned magnanimity, “Fine, I won’t hold your slap against you.”

Seeing him pretend to be the benevolent elder brother, Jiang Lingyao’s sarcasm deepened. “Then what about the fire? Who will answer for that?”

Jiang Xiuyuan instinctively looked toward Song Lian’er. Her panicked face made his heart skip, and he frowned deeply.

Could it be that Lian’er really set the fire?

He hesitated a moment. Song Lian’er, pale with fear, took the initiative: “Brother, Lian’er feels dizzy.”

Jiang Xiuyuan panicked and strode over, picking her up horizontally, leaving Jiang Lingyao with a parting warning: “You owe Lian’er too much. The fire today didn’t harm anyone, just burned some things. Don’t bring it up again.”

Jiang Lingyao curled her lips sarcastically as everyone left the courtyard, leaving behind only silence.

She propped herself up and helped Wen Qiu to her feet. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, following such a mistress. Wen Qiu, after Grandmother returns, I will plead for you. From then on, stay by her side to serve.”

Wen Qiu wiped her tears. “Without Miss, I would have perished long ago. I will never leave Miss in this lifetime!”

Jiang Lingyao said nothing. Once she left the Jiang household, without someone to support her, how could Song Lian’er possibly spare Wen Qiu?

“Jiang Lingyao.”

So Pei Xingzhi hadn’t left after all.

She was slightly surprised. After a moment of silence, she bowed to him. “Thank you, Prince, for saving my life. I’m no longer seriously ill. Song Lian’er is unwell; you should go see her early.”

He coldly regarded her distant expression, frowning. “Who is Liao Yun?”

How did he know that name?

Jiang Lingyao was stunned for a moment, then lowered her eyes, speaking softly, “She is a maid from the temple who once saved my life. Perhaps I was confused earlier and mistook someone. I hope the Prince will not take offense.”

“Saved your life?”

Pei Xingzhi’s figure trembled slightly. His usually indifferent face was filled with shock and anger. “Mingzhu, explain clearly—what exactly happened?”

What exactly happened?

Last winter, she was forced to chip ice to fetch water.

How could a young lady like Jiang Lingyao know how to do that?

But if she refused, they accused her of insincerity and cut off her expenses—first food, then water, until finally forcing her to collect kitchen scraps.

Whether she complied or not, it was a dead end for her. With heavy snow sealing the forest and the mountain paths treacherous, stumbling through the snow, she first felt utter despair, cursing herself for not dying on the day Song Lian’er’s father saved her.

If not for Liao Yun saving her life, she might have already perished in that blizzard.

They were all people with tragic fates. Liao Yun suffered too—born the son of a concubine, forced to disguise himself as a girl for years, only to be driven to the mountains in the end. Jiang Lingyao and he had depended on each other for a whole year, and she already regarded him as family.

They had agreed that after she took one last look at her grandmother at home, they would flee far away to a neighboring country, never to return.

Lost in thought, Pei Xingzhi’s anger surged. He grabbed Jiang Lingyao as she turned to leave. “Won’t you speak to me?”

“Hiss—”

He clutched the wound on his arm. Jiang Lingyao gasped, her face suddenly pale.

Pei Xingzhi instinctively released his grip. She struggled fiercely, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a multitude of scars hidden beneath her clothes.

“What happened?”

His expression changed abruptly. “Who dared to hurt you?”