Chapter 70
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Mouth-feed?
How would he even do that?
Even in a bad mood, curiosity was still alive. Jiang Juan glanced at Xue Fangli, initially just a casual look, but then he suddenly realized something and froze.
Feeding by mouth.
How else could he do it?
Realizing what it meant, Jiang Juan remained silent for several seconds before taking the spoon himself. He lowered his head and started eating the porridge one bite at a time.
Xue Fangli clicked his tongue softly, as if feeling regretful. Jiang Juan heard him, bit the spoon, and stealthily stepped on Xue Fangli’s foot.
The next moment, Jiang Juan’s hand was grasped, his fingers being played with one by one. He heard Xue Fangli’s teasing voice, “What, still want me to mouth-feed?”
“No.”
Jiang Juan replied quickly, completely unaware of someone watching them intently.
It was impossible not to be surprised.
Jiang Juan’s mood had obviously improved a bit, and he continued eating the porridge on his own. Meanwhile, Marquis Anping held a wine cup, unable to take a sip for a long time, feeling a myriad of emotions.
Ten years ago, he had been too late. No matter how he tried to make amends afterward, the boy remained indifferent, looking at him coldly, like a hedgehog with its spikes raised, refusing to trust anyone ever again.
He never imagined he would witness such a scene.
Tenderness, warmth, and gentleness.
He also never imagined that the boy from the past would one day treat someone with such patience and care.
No matter what, it was a good thing.
Su Feiyue was right.
——“He has a Royal Consort who saved him.”
Jiang Sentao showed a relieved smile. He stood up and said gratefully, “Your Royal Consort, let me toast to you.”
Jiang Juan was taken aback, “Oh, okay.”
He didn’t drink alcohol, so he hadn’t asked the servant to pour him any. Looking left and right, Jiang Juan simply grabbed the wine cup Xue Fangli was holding and took a small sip.
Xue Fangli’s hand was now empty, but he didn’t seem upset. He just glanced at Jiang Juan, who wasn’t used to the strong liquor and frowned, then chuckled softly.
Maybe the prince residence should stock more fruit wine.
The youth was most amusing when drunk.
Xue Fangli seemed lost in thought.
Having eaten most of the porridge, Jiang Juan felt restless, sensing that Grand General Jiang and His Highness had more to discuss. He asked, “General Jiang, where is Jiang Qingliang?”
“In his courtyard.”
Jiang Sentao smiled, “He mentioned he’s been in contact with you lately. Do you want to find him?”
Since he was idle anyway, Jiang Juan thought he might as well go tease him. “Can I?”
Jiang Sentao quickly gave a signal to the steward. “No need to be so formal, Royal Consort.”
Jiang Juan nodded, stood up, and after a few steps, turned back. His hand was still being held. He looked at Xue Fangli and shook his hand a few times. “Your Highness, I’m going to play.”
Xue Fangli glanced at him without saying anything. Jiang Juan thought for a moment and asked, “Are you coming?”
Xue Fangli sneered softly, “No.”
Jiang Juan: “…”
Then let go of my hand.
Jiang Juan looked at him in confusion and shook his hand a few more times. Xue Fangli exerted a little force and pulled Jiang Juan back, smiling faintly, “You used to stay by my side all the time, and now you prefer to hang out with random people.”
What random people? Jiang Juan said earnestly, “You’re discussing serious matters, it’s boring, I don’t want to listen.”
Xue Fangli grunted in response. Though he was slightly displeased, he didn’t really hold Jiang Juan back. He just instructed the steward of the General Residence, “He has a heart condition. Take good care of him.”
The steward nodded respectfully. Only then did Xue Fangli release Jiang Juan’s hand. Jiang Juan bid farewell to Xue Fangli and followed the steward.
Jiang Qingliang’s courtyard was called Liangqi Courtyard. The steward knocked on the door, and soon Jiang Qingliang’s voice came through, “Who is it?”
“Young master, it’s me, your servant.”
“There are so many people in the household. If you don’t say your name, how am I supposed to know who you are?”
“…Old Zhao.”
“There are quite a few Zhaos around. Which Old Zhao are you?”
Jiang Juan: “…”
Arguing even over this? That’s typical Jiang Qingliang. Jiang Juan was stunned. Jiang Qingliang cheekily added, “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t you know that the Zhao surname is ranked first in the Hundred Family Surnames? Who exactly are you?”
The steward chuckled bitterly, but Jiang Juan spoke up first, “Your father.”
Jiang Juan asked slowly, “You haven’t called many people ‘father’, have you?”
Jiang Qingliang: “…”
Jiang Qingliang: “……”
Indeed, not many.
There were loud crashing noises from the study, and Jiang Qingliang rushed over to open the door, excitedly asking, “Brother Juan, why are you here?”
Jiang Juan honestly replied, “I’m here to argue with you.”
Jiang Qingliang: “???”
Once again, Jiang Qingliang was left speechless. Jiang Juan felt satisfied and peeked inside. On the desk lay a book with many words written on the paper. Jiang Juan curiously asked, “What are you doing?”
Jiang Qingliang pouted, “My exam results this month were too poor. The dean reported me to my father, and now I have to copy ‘The Anthology of Literature’ as punishment.”
Jiang Juan had expected this.
Jiang Qingliang had to finish copying the entire book before dark. He had been slacking off for too long and, after exchanging just a few words with Jiang Juan, he dejectedly went back to his task. Seeing this, Jiang Juan, feeling unusually generous, asked, “Do you want me to help you copy some?”
Jiang Qingliang was shocked, “Huh? You?”
“Brother Juan, no offense, but do you even know how to read?”
After a long pause, Jiang Qingliang finally blurted this out.
It wasn’t that he meant any harm. He knew Jiang Juan had grown up in the countryside where there were no schools, and there were rumors in the capital that he was illiterate. So, hearing Jiang Juan offer to help with the copying, Jiang Qingliang was genuinely surprised.
Jiang Juan: “…”
Damn, he might be a bit lazy, but he wasn’t a complete ignoramus. Moreover, his grandfather had made him study a lot, so copying was no big deal.
Jiang Juan glanced at Jiang Qingliang, intending to scare him, “Isn’t it just copying? Even if you can’t read, you can still copy. It’s like drawing, just trace it.”
After finishing speaking, he then took the brush from Jiang Qingliang, looked at the characters on the paper, and hesitated for a long time, as if he really couldn’t read and was figuring out how to mimic the writing.
Jiang Qingliang was horrified and shouted, “Brother Juan, if you can’t read, don’t mess around! My father is very strict. He doesn’t allow any erasures, and if I make a mistake, I have to start over. I’ve painstakingly copied this much, I don’t want to start again. Brother Juan, Brother Juan—!”
“No, it’s really different from drawing. You can’t just trace it. I appreciate your help, but please, don’t make me beg you!”
“No problem.”
Amid Jiang Qingliang’s cries, Jiang Juan decisively made a stroke, then exclaimed, “Ah, seems like I messed it up.”
Jiang Qingliang: “…”
Messed up. Now there was no way to fix it. Jiang Qingliang slumped back, almost in tears, “Brother Juan, I told you it wouldn’t work.”
Being tricked like this, Jiang Qingliang didn’t think about cursing anyone, just beating his chest in frustration. After all, his Brother Juan had no ill intentions; he just wanted to help copy the book.
Xue Congyun and Gu Puwang didn’t get this kind of treatment.
Jiang Qingliang was both in pain and joy. His father was incredibly strict; even if just one character was written incorrectly, he had to start over from the beginning. Resigned to his fate, Jiang Qingliang took the brush back from Jiang Juan and sighed, “Forget it, I’ll start over.”
“Brother Juan, do you want to keep drawing? If so, take this sheet. I’ll have someone get you another brush.”
Jiang Juan glanced at him, “Aren’t you going to check?”
Jiang Qingliang’s heart ached. The more he looked, the more painful it was. He waved his hand, “I don’t need to look.”
Jiang Juan decided to stop teasing him, “You should really take a look.”
Jiang Qingliang really didn’t want to look, but thinking Jiang Juan had never studied and might be illiterate, he figured this might be his first time writing. So, he took a look, and— “Huh, Brother Juan, where did you write?”
The paper was filled with Jiang Qingliang’s messy handwriting, but there was no sign of any ink blotches or mistakes. After a while, he realized, “Brother Juan, you didn’t write anything, you were just teasing me.”
Jiang Juan slowly said, “I did write. The last character was written by me. Don’t you remember where you copied it?”
Jiang Qingliang: “???”
He looked again and finally noticed the issue.
The last character indeed wasn’t written by him.
But whether it was the starting stroke or the structure, it matched his writing habits. If Jiang Juan hadn’t mentioned it, and if Jiang Qingliang hadn’t recalled where he was copying, he really wouldn’t have recognized it.
It wasn’t just similar, it was identical.
“Brother Juan, you can read!”
Jiang Qingliang was stunned.
To be able to mimic his handwriting so accurately after just a few glances, Jiang Juan clearly knew more than just reading. But Jiang Qingliang only wanted to be lazy, so he was delighted, “Brother Juan, you’re amazing! Please, help me copy a bit more.”
Jiang Qingliang immediately changed his tone, humbly admitting his mistake, “Brother Juan, I didn’t recognize your talent. Please, help me copy a bit more.”
Jiang Juan had offered to help on a whim and regretted it as soon as he finished speaking. Now fully sober, Jiang Juan shook his head, “There are too many characters, I don’t want to copy anymore. Besides—” Mimicking someone else’s handwriting wasn’t easier the worse the handwriting was. If it was truly terrible, the structure would be chaotic, making it even harder to copy. Jiang Juan said, “Your handwriting is so bad, it’s too exhausting to mimic.”
Jiang Qingliang: “…”
Damn it, he felt hurt.
Why did he have to say so much?
Why did he believe the rumors that Brother Juan was illiterate?
Jiang Qingliang deeply regretted his actions.
Having missed a good opportunity, Jiang Qingliang had no choice but to diligently continue copying. However, Jiang Juan suddenly recalled something.
It seemed everyone assumed he was illiterate, and even Jiang Juan himself subconsciously believed so—after all, his character, sharing his name, grew up in the countryside with no conditions for schooling.
But when Jiang Juan was troubled by the Empress Dowager, she mentioned in passing that the protagonist shou said that the original self was skilled in the slim regular script.
The original self lived in the countryside, and his grandfather certainly couldn’t afford pen, ink, paper, and inkstone for him to practice calligraphy. Moreover, practicing calligraphy consumes a lot of resources, which would be a considerable expense for an old man living in the countryside.
Could it be that the Minister father provided the money?
That would explain things… perhaps?
Absentmindedly, Jiang Juan raised his hand and placed it on a few stacks of books, his fingers unconsciously stroking the covers. He glanced down—it was a travel journal titled “Peaceful Travels.”
Curious about ancient travel journals, he picked it up. Jiang Qingliang was writing furiously and only commented, “These books are from my classmate; he said they’re good stuff.”
How good, Jiang Qingliang hadn’t had a chance to check, but Jiang Juan’s curiosity was piqued. He opened the pages, and the next moment, Jiang Juan was utterly stunned.
Jiang Juan: “???”
Wasn’t it a travel journal?
The pages were filled with exquisite illustrations, varied scenes, and lifelike figures. The problem was, every figure was completely naked, entangled with each other, nothing hidden.
No censorship, extremely explicit, and accompanied by text—the impact on Jiang Juan was enormous.
Jiang Juan had never seen such things and felt embarrassed, but his curiosity prevailed, so he forced himself to flip through page after page.
He didn’t dare to look closely, flipping quickly—“whish” went the pages, and soon he was halfway through the book. Jiang Juan glanced over and was about to turn another page when he froze.
On the last illustration of the page, a person was sitting on a chair, their leg raised and resting on the armrest, while another person was bowing their head in a submissive position.
A strangely familiar scene.
Jiang Juan: “…”
Jiang Juan: “…….”
With a “snap,” he almost frantically closed the book.
The sudden noise startled Jiang Qingliang, making him nearly write the wrong character. He quickly corrected it and asked, “Brother Juan, what’s wrong?”
Looking up, Jiang Qingliang was stunned. “Why is your face so red?”
“Is it very red?”
Jiang Juan was bewildered. Jiang Qingliang stared at him, and after a moment, his own face turned red. “Brother Juan, don’t stare at me like that.”
“… Your face is also very red.”
Jiang Juan: “?”
He touched his face, not feeling any heat. Jiang Qingliang kept telling Jiang Juan not to look at him, yet couldn’t help but glance again and again. After all, the love of beauty is universal, and right now, his Brother Juan was—too, too… radiant, wasn’t he?
His face seemed to have picked up the hues of flowers, no, even more brilliant than flowers. If one had to say what flower it resembled, peonies were truly the finest, yet compared to his brother Juan, they inexplicably seemed a bit vulgar. Magnolias were pure and smooth, but lacked a certain richness.
Jiang Qingliang pondered and couldn’t find an appropriate description, feeling a bit regretful for not studying more diligently in the past.
If Gu Puwang were here, he would certainly know the right words to use.
Jiang Juan was unaware of Jiang Qingliang’s frustration; his mind was a mess, the worst part being the images from that book flashing before his eyes, frame by frame.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.
Jiang Juan tried hard to stop himself, but the more he resisted, the more he couldn’t control it. He even recalled that day, the sensation when the tip of the tongue grazed the skin.
Hot, moist.
Jiang Juan: “…”
The steward standing nearby also noticed something was wrong and asked worriedly, “Your Royal Consort, are you feeling unwell?”
Jiang Juan mumbled, “My heart is racing.”
Before handing him over, His Highness had specifically mentioned that the Royal Consort had a heart condition. Hearing this, the steward was startled, “Your Royal Consort, is your heart condition acting up? Shall I fetch His Highness and the master?”
Jiang Juan came back to his senses, “Huh? No, I’m fine.”
He said he was fine, but Jiang Qingliang, reminded by the steward, also panicked, “Why would it be racing for no reason? Quickly, get a doctor! What good is calling His Highness and my father? Hurry, get the doctor to check on him!”
“I’m going, I’m going—!”
The steward ran off in a panic, and Jiang Juan had to reassure him once more, “I’m really fine, truly.”
Jiang Qingliang, still on high alert, asked, “The doctor will be here soon, Brother Juan. Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere else?”
Jiang Juan: “…”
He was really fine.
Not long after, the doctor hadn’t arrived yet, but Xue Fangli came first. He strode over to the seated Jiang Juan, who was supposedly suffering from a heart attack, and knelt on one knee.
With his layered robes trailing on the ground, Xue Fangli held Jiang Juan’s hand, his expression cold but his tone gentle, “Still feeling unwell?”
Jiang Juan replied seriously, “Your Highness, don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Xue Fangli lowered his gaze, staring at Jiang Juan’s pale fingers.
The steward had reported that Jiang Juan’s heart condition was so severe that he couldn’t even turn the pages of a book, and he had been sitting there for a long time to no avail.
The youth was so afraid of pain, yet when he was really suffering, he simply said he was fine.
He would rather have him, like before, whimpering and complaining of pain, clinging to him.
Thinking of this, Xue Fangli’s grip on Jiang Juan’s hand slackened slightly. Jiang Juan winced in pain and looked at him questioningly, but Xue Fangli said nothing, only lifting Jiang Juan into his arms.
“Guest room.”
After a while, Xue Fangli finally uttered two words. Jiang Sentao, who had come with him, quickly signaled a maid, who said, “This way, Your Highness.”
“Your Highness, why are we going to the guest room?”
Jiang Juan was confused, and Xue Fangli looked at him for a few moments. At this moment, the color on Jiang Juan’s face had already faded, and in Xue Fangli’s eyes, he looked pale and fragile.
—Like a stretch of snowy whiteness, thin and light, leaving a mark with a pinch, and breaking with a fall.
Xue Fangli closed his eyes slightly, “Go rest. When the doctor arrives, let him check you thoroughly.”
Jiang Juan: “…”
No, really, he’s fine.
Jiang Juan hesitated to speak, but Xue Fangli carried him out. As they were about to step out of the study, Xue Fangli paused, as if remembering something, and looked down at Jiang Juan, “Did he anger you again?”
Xue Fangli did not name names, but Jiang Qingliang shivered, knowing it was about him. He had no desire to get involved further and hurriedly defended himself, “I didn’t! I was just copying the book, and then his heart condition acted up. I didn’t dare to provoke him at all.”
Jiang Juan also shook his head quickly, “No, he didn’t anger me.”
Jiang Sentao shook his head and said, “Your Royal Consort, you don’t have to cover for him. This boy is always reckless; he must have angered you again.”
Jiang Qingliang said helplessly, “Father, be reasonable. I really didn’t do anything. Ask Chuntao if you don’t believe me.”
Jiang Sentao looked at the maid named Chuntao, who softly replied, “Master, the young master was indeed just copying the book.”
Jiang Qingliang muttered, “I’m so wronged.”
“You’re wronged? About what?”
Jiang Sentao glanced at him and said firmly, “The Royal Consort’s heart condition acted up right when he saw you. Instead of reflecting, you still argue back.”
“Brat, go run thirty laps around the training ground!”
Jiang Qingliang: “???”
How was this his fault?
Who did he offend???
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