Volume One, Chapter 13: You're Worse Than a Dog

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The begonia tree was laden with fruit, sparkling like jewels under the sunlight, exquisitely beautiful.

The man wore an embroidered robe, reclining casually in his wheelchair, his posture relaxed and his expression serene. Long eyelashes, feather-like, rested gently over his eyes, with a few strands of hair falling across his cheek, adding to his air of tranquility.

The surrounding silence was so profound that one could almost hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. This was the scene before Jiu Mu whenever she returned.

“This skin is really quite good!”

Perhaps influenced by Luo Yan’s words, Jiu Mu studied him earnestly.

The two brothers were both good-looking but bore little resemblance to each other—perhaps because Luo Chen resembled their father more, while Luo Yan took after their mother.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, and Jiu Mu saw a leaf drifting down. She instinctively reached out to catch it, only to have her wrist suddenly grasped, and she was jerked to one side.

She staggered a step before barely regaining her balance. Just as she tried to pull away, the force tugged her again, sending her falling in the opposite direction.

“You’re back,” Luo Chen’s cold voice broke the silence.

“Are you sick? Why are you pulling me like that?”

Jiu Mu snapped irritably, then, realizing he couldn’t hear her, tapped his shoulder lightly.

“Sorry, I was momentarily distracted,” Luo Chen apologized as if he sensed her anger.

“I’ll let you off this time,” Jiu Mu muttered.

If not for the fact that he was a patient and had caught her just in time, she might have made him taste the poison she had just prepared.

“Lady of the heir, the herbs you requested are... all prepared,” Sang Lin’s surprised voice came from behind before Jiu Mu could rise.

Jiu Mu turned to see Sang Lin entering with several guards, carrying large wooden boxes.

Noticing their stunned stares at her, she understood why—they were probably as shocked as she was. She secretly envied Luo Chen for being oblivious to it all.

“Ahem, put everything in the room,” she said nonchalantly, rising to her feet.

Really, she hadn’t done anything shameful. Besides, she was from the modern world—it must have been because of this body she now inhabited.

After everyone had withdrawn, she wheeled Luo Chen, still unaware of what had transpired, into the room.

This was the space she had arranged that morning, right next door to their bedroom, for convenience in making and fetching medicines.

“Sang Lin, please help me organize these herbs,” Jiu Mu instructed without ceremony.

“Right away.”

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Sang Lin glanced at Luo Chen, who sat quietly in the corner. His mouth twitched slightly. Moving him so far away—was the Lady of the Heir really trying to avoid her master?

Silently, he thought, “Master, don’t blame me for poor service; no matter where you are, it’s the same.”

Jiu Mu sorted the herbs meticulously by category, with Sang Lin assisting until Xia He reminded them it was time for the evening meal.

“You’re here, so you should go eat too. There’ll be things I need you for later.” Jiu Mu promptly sent Sang Lin away.

Partly because she had real work to do and didn’t want to stay up late, and partly because she disliked having someone hovering over her while she ate.

“But...”

Sang Lin hesitated, recalling how the Lady of the Heir had left the heir aside earlier and felt genuinely concerned.

“Don’t you want your master to get better?” Jiu Mu cut him off sharply.

Faced with this accusation, Sang Lin dared not argue and reluctantly withdrew.

At the table, Luo Chen suddenly found his bowl empty—it had been snatched away. He was certain it was the newlywed Lady of the Heir; no one else would dare.

Before he could ask, the bowl was returned, noticeably heavier this time, piled high.

“Sang Lin, get me another bowl,” Luo Chen placed the bowl back on the table.

Jiu Mu had just picked up her chopsticks but sighed and put them down, pulling his hand to write: Sang Lin’s not here; you’ll have to eat yourself.

Perhaps she should consider healing his ears first; otherwise, this method of communication was too troublesome.

“Then I’ll trouble the Lady of the Heir to ask someone to get me another bowl,” Luo Chen said politely.

Jiu Mu thought: Why change it?

“Mixing all the food together—how is that different from feeding a dog?” Luo Chen thought that since Jiu Mu came from a humble background, it was understandable she didn’t know such customs.

“Feeding a dog? You’re more like a dog yourself—dogs wouldn’t be so troublesome,” Jiu Mu retorted irritably.

At the door, Xia He shivered, quickly looking around to ensure no one overheard the Lady of the Heir calling the heir a dog.

Jiu Mu patiently wrote: When you can see again, then we’ll talk about manners. If you don’t want to eat, then starve.

Having written that, she ignored Luo Chen and buried herself in her meal, having been busy most of the day.

Luo Chen sensed she was upset—her handwriting was swift and forceful, as if trying to pierce through his palm.

“I understand,” Luo Chen smiled faintly and resumed eating from the bowl.

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Jiu Mu glanced up, surprised that he not only hadn’t lost his temper but was obediently eating.

The Yan Family—

“That’s my courtyard. Why should I give it to that wretched woman?” Yan Qingling’s sharp voice rang out.

“Whether you want to or not, you have no say,” Yan Huaicheng said impatiently, realizing persuasion was futile.

At first, he had tried to reason gently, asking Yan Qingling to bear with it for now and live elsewhere until Yan Jiu Mu was abandoned by the Marquis’s household, then she could move back.

“I won’t let it go. If I can’t have it, I’ll burn it down. No one gets it,” Yan Qingling said fiercely.

“How dare you!” Yan Huaicheng was furious.

“What don’t I dare? I...”

Smack! A slap cut off her words.

Yan Qingling was stunned—her father rarely even spoke harshly, let alone strike her. Today, he had done just that.

Xu Shi was also frightened by Yan Huaicheng’s sudden outburst; it had all happened too quickly for her to intervene.

She stepped forward to shield Yan Qingling, “Master, please calm down. Qingling only feels wronged; she did not mean to disrespect you.”

Seeing her daughter’s rapidly reddening cheeks, Xu Shi’s eyes welled with tears. She had just soothed her, only for new troubles to arise.

“You’d better keep an eye on her. No more trouble,” Yan Huaicheng said, suddenly clutching his head and leaving with a swish of his sleeve.

Xu Shi watched him leave, puzzled by the sudden anger. Was it because of Yan Jiu Mu or because of her daughter?

Could it be that even after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten—and simply seeing his daughter was enough to unsettle him?

“Mother, father hit me... boohoo... he hit me...”

Yan Qingling’s cries dragged Xu Shi back to the present. “Qingling, be good and let me see.”

Covering her burning cheek, Yan Qingling sobbed, “It’s all because of Yan Jiu Mu. Mother, I want to kill her... kill her...”