Jiang Xingjian arrived at Xiuyan Pavilion and saw that Lin Jiayue was indeed seriously ill.
"Brother Xingjian..."
Lin Jiayue was lying on the couch, her cheeks reddened by the high fever. She had lost a lot of weight in just a few days, and her cat-like eyes were getting bigger and bigger. Jiang Xingjian couldn't bear the sight of wetness.
"Why are you suddenly sick?"
Lin Jiayue pursed her lips and stared at him as if she wanted to cry.
She didn't have enough to eat or sleep well all day long. She was beaten and scolded during the day, and she was frightened at night. How could she not get sick? Before she met Jiang Xingjian, she even hated him. But when she saw this man again, Lin Jiayue realized how much she liked him.
“Egyo simplification…”
"I am here."
Lin Jiayue suddenly cried bitterly: "I like you, do you know? I like you and that's why I have to suffer so much for you, but have you seen it?"
"Because I like you, I followed you from Suhe to Shangjing. Because I like you, I stayed in the Marquis Mansion to learn the rules. Because I like you, I am willing to wrong myself."
"But Jiang Xingjian, are you worthy of my love?"
Her whole body ached because of the high fever. Lin Jiayue licked her cheeks which were so tight that it hurt, but there was no trace of injury, and she cried even harder.
The rhinoceros horn ruler was thin and tough, and the water-wrapped handkerchief showed no injuries on her face. However, she suffered from nerve pain every night, toothache, headache, foot pain, and no part of her body was in pain.
No matter how much she learns the rules, she can't become a lady like Song Wan. Even if Aunt Li teaches her for ten years, or even a hundred years, she can't become the noble girl they want!
"I like you, but I can't live a life of being coerced by others 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 really can't stand the life in the Hou Mansion."
"I regret it, I regret it."
Lin Jiayue struggled to get up, and hot tears fell on Jiang Xingjian's palm, making his heart clench.
"Jia Yue..."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to snub you."
Jiang Xingjian held Lin Jiayue's waist and held her sideways in her arms.
The skin of the girl in her arms was hot, and her whole body was abnormally red due to the high fever. She was crying all the time, but she didn't make any sound. She would only whimper in a low voice occasionally when she sobbed hard.
Lin Jiayue has always been happy and noisy, but she has never been so fragile.
After carefully putting the person into the quilt, Jiang Xingjian frowned and said, "Why didn't Jiayue seek a doctor when she was so ill?"
"The doctor is waiting in the hospital. Aunt Lin said she wouldn't let the doctor in until she saw the uncle."
Jiang Xingjian glanced at the trapped girl and pinched her eyebrows.
"Let him in."
The government doctor prescribed a prescription for Lin Jiayue, and after giving her the medicine, she fell asleep peacefully.
It was only at midnight that I slowly woke up.
"you're awake?"
Lin Jiayue hummed with a thick nasal voice.
Jiang Xingjian lifted the bed curtain and sat next to her. Lin Jiayue turned around and didn't look at him, but couldn't help crying.
"I'm sorry for making you feel wronged."
She buried her head in the quilt and bit her lip to vent her pain.
Jiang Xingjian took the person out and held her tightly in his arms. He looked at the spot in front of him with a dull expression, and said softly: "I know you are in love with me, and so am I."
"But there was a marriage between the Jiang and Song Dynasties. Song Wan married into the Hou Mansion and stayed as a widow for six years. Everyone in Beijing knows that it is absolutely impossible for the Hou Mansion to stop marrying again now."
Lin Jiayue seemed to struggle, but Jiang Xingjian tightened her arms: "I promise you, I will do my best to give you what you want."
"You mean, it's okay if I want to be the first wife of the Marquis?"
Jiang Xingjian was silent, but he did not say no.
Lin Jiayue waited for a long time but didn't see him speak, and the tip of her nose felt sour: "Are you trying to trick me, or do you really have any plans? Can I still trust you?"
“Shinga.”
Jiang Xingjian stroked her hair and comforted her gently: "I will move into Xiuyan Pavilion tomorrow."
If he and Song Wan are direct descendants of a family, both men and women are supported by the whole family. What they bear is the rise and fall of the family, and there is absolutely no way they can abandon the safety of the whole family for their own selfishness.
Moreover, the hatred of killing his father cannot be wiped away, not to mention that there will be a fight between the three and the five, and only one of the Jiang and Song Dynasties can survive.
No matter who of the two families wins or loses in the future, he will put Song Wan in a good place and protect her safety to preserve their childhood friendship.
That's all he can do.
Jiang Xingjian's heart suddenly hurt when she thought of this.
He believed that if Ah Wan were in his position, he would make the same choice. After all, sons and daughters of aristocratic families have never been able to help themselves, let alone the love between children.
After putting Lin Jiayue to sleep, Jiang Xingjian went to his study alone.
The picture of the Harmony and the Two Immortals sent by Concubine Yun was kept in the brocade box. Jiang Xingjian took it out and looked at it for a long time, with a faint smile on his lips.
The man's eyes traced the painting carefully from top to bottom, as if he was trying to carve the painting into his mind.
"uncle."
Lingyun came in with a brass basin. Jiang Xingjian put it on the ground and said, "I will move my things into Xiuyan Pavilion tomorrow."
Lingyun looked up in surprise, seeing that he had made up his mind and could only silently agree.
Jiang Xingjian still held the picture in his hand. After looking at it carefully, he picked up the candle on the table and lit it along the edge.
The flames quickly burned the painting to ashes, and a masterpiece passed down from generation to generation disappeared into smoke.
