Jiang Rao had made up her mind to visit the western part of the city more often, hoping to change the young man’s impression of her as soon as possible. However, the recurring dreams only made her more fearful of him.

Every time she saw him, her mind was flooded with thoughts of the cold, ruthless person he would become, and the various ways he would take revenge on her.

After kneeling for so long in her dreams, her knees would feel sore and weak upon waking. The moment she saw him, all she could think of was running away, and it was impossible to do anything to change his opinion of her.

Instinctively seeking to avoid danger, Jiang Rao chose to retreat for a few days, instructing a servant to watch over the small house in the west of the city to ensure the young man wouldn’t be bullied by those unruly children again.

That night, Jiang Rao once again dreamt of the grown young man—this time, the dream was clearer than any she had before.

As a member of the Fourth Prince’s faction, she and her family fell from grace after the new emperor’s ascension, becoming prisoners of the court.

She had been sold into slavery, with the intention of being killed, but after some time, instead of taking her life, he spared her and made her his personal servant.

From then on, he took pleasure in tormenting her.

The once delicate young girl, pampered and adored by her family, suddenly found herself reduced to a servant to an unpredictable and cruel master, as if she had fallen from the clouds into the mud—her suffering was beyond words.

And yet, because she owed him, she dared not express her anger. All she could do was endure, day after day…

The entire night in her dream was a torment worse than death. When she awoke, Jiang Rao’s face was filled with unbearable distress.

Her life was truly wretched.

With a bitter expression, she finished her breakfast and set out to send a letter to her grandfather.

It was his sixtieth birthday, and although Jiang Rao couldn’t return home, she had carefully chosen a gift for him and sent it to her grandfather in the imperial capital, Jinling, to show her respect as a granddaughter.

The snow had been falling continuously for days, and the sky remained overcast, with occasional snowflakes drifting down.

On the road out of the city, heavy snow had caused a traffic jam. The county magistrate sent word through notices—”Those who value their lives, stay inside the city.”

The eight short words carried great weight. Everyone in the city, fearing for their safety, obediently stayed inside, no one daring to leave.

After sending the letter, Jiang Rao left the post station. Her head remained bowed, and her expression was filled with a sense of endless frustration.

Last night’s dream made Jiang Rao feel that the young man still posed an endless hidden threat.

So, even though she was scared, she had no choice but to endure it. She had to win his favor first.

Otherwise, once her family left Ye City, she wouldn’t have another chance.

At the tea house near the post station, a crowd of citizens had gathered, idle due to the city being sealed off.

Jiang Rao noticed the people gathered there, and a thought crossed her mind. She approached and began asking the locals about the young man.

The people told her that the young man had arrived in Ye City a year ago.

He was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family in Jinling, here in this small town to recover from an injury. His family had hired a local man named Wang Zhou to be his servant, and he sent monthly payments for his care.

Jiang Rao carefully inquired about his name, thinking that, since he was from Jinling, he might have had some connection with her family.

However, when she asked, the locals all shook their heads, none of them knowing anything about it.

Half an hour later, Jiang Rao went to the medical clinic.

She had heard that, a year ago, when the young man first arrived in Ye City, he had come here to get medicine.

But now, a year had passed, and his leg still hadn’t healed.

Unable to resist her curiosity, Jiang Rao decided to ask the old doctor about the young man’s leg injury.

…

Her curiosity soon turned into a mild sense of pity and sympathy.

At first, she only knew that he had an injury on his leg. But after speaking with the old doctor, she learned just how serious the injury was.

When he first arrived at the clinic, the wound on his lower leg was badly infected, deep enough to expose bone. His bone was even broken, but he had endured it all in silence. The old doctor explained that, to save some money, when the bone was set, he had refused the use of anesthetics. From beginning to end, he didn’t make a single sound.

As Jiang Rao listened to the old doctor’s account, she imagined him enduring the pain, his face dripping with sweat. At that time, he had only been a thirteen-year-old boy.

Usually, when her younger brother scraped his knee, she would feel heartbroken for a long time. Yet this boy had endured the most severe skin, flesh, and bone injuries.

To say he was terrifying was true; but to say he was pitiable, that was true as well.

When Jiang Rao stepped into the small house in the western part of the city again, she was holding a square package in her hands, heavy and weighty.

The twine that bound it had left several faint impressions on the oil-paper wrapping, and inside were the herbs prescribed by the old doctor.

The old doctor had told her that, in the past year, the young man had only visited him once. After that, he never came back to pick up more medicine.

Despite having instructed the servant beside the young man to come each month to collect the medicine, from the cold winter to the hot summer, and then back to the cold winter again, the seasons had changed, and more than eleven months had passed. Yet the old doctor had never seen the servant come even once.

With such a serious leg injury and no medicine, Jiang Rao couldn’t imagine how the young man had managed to endure.

The small courtyard still looked the same as yesterday—desolate and forlorn, as quiet as a graveyard. The snow had piled up throughout the yard, and each step she took left a deep imprint in the snow.

After a night of wind, the door, already looking frail, seemed even more precarious. A mere tap on the door caused it to creak and shake, opening on its own.

Inside the house, everything was in disarray.

Jiang Rao hadn’t expected to see such a sight—the young man was lying prone on the ground.

Both of his legs were weak and bent, his knees pressing down on a thin blanket that was so light it could almost be ignored.

His long hair hung loosely behind him, his back slightly arched, resembling a beast trapped and weakened, its sharp fangs and bones stripped away.

It seemed he was trying to support himself with his elbows, attempting to push off the ground to gather strength and lift himself up.

But despite the tension in his arm muscles, which appeared to have exerted all his effort, his legs were as if weighed down by thousands of pounds, immobile and unyielding.

His crimson eyes were filled with defeat and desolation.

She silently walked over, intending to help him up.

But at the sudden, icy glare he shot at her, her movements froze in place.

Rong Ting heard her enter.

He turned his head to glance at her, unable to suppress a heavy cough. “What are you doing here?”

Jiang Rao raised the medicine package in her hand for him to see. “I went to the medical clinic and got some medicine for you.”

Rong Ting remained silent.

His temperament had long been twisted and suspicious, shaped by the cruel environment of the imperial palace. From the moment he was born, every person he encountered—whether smiling or scolding—had never truly been kind to him.

He was used to seeing hypocritical smiles that concealed sharp blades. To him, overly enthusiastic gestures of goodwill felt no different from insults or neglect.

Even if she was trying to make up for her guilt, going this far was already enough.

No one would ever truly be so kind to him.

He coldly watched her expression of concern, as if looking at poison wrapped in honey.

But before he could say anything to dismiss her, a wave of searing pain overwhelmed him, and he lost consciousness.

…

When he awoke, a pair of warm hands were gently pressing a wet cloth to his forehead. The motion was tender.

The thin, cold blanket on his body seemed to have been replaced by a new, warm, and thick one.

He blinked, and from beside him came a soft, joyful question. “You’re awake?”

Jiang Rao, holding the wet cloth was crouched beside his bed, her head level with the edge of the mattress, looking at him with surprise and delight.

After he fainted, beads of sweat had been forming on his forehead, his brows furrowed tightly. It was unclear whether it was from the pain or from some troubling dream.

Not wanting to frighten him, her voice softened. “You suddenly passed out just now, and it startled me. I called the old doctor from the medical hall to check on you. He said your leg injury has worsened, and you’ve caught a chill. He prescribed some extra medicine, and while you were asleep, the doctor personally brewed it. He asked me to help you drink it.”

Rong Ting pressed his lips together, the bitter taste of the herbal medicine lingering in his mouth.

There was even a faint bitterness on his body.

It was only then that he noticed the stain of the medicine on the front of his shirt.

Jiang Rao noticed it too. Her gaze briefly swept across the stain on his shirt, then quickly averted, her long lashes casting shadows. “But I only fed you half a bowl.”

A faint blush rose on her cheeks, and she explained, somewhat awkwardly. “I could only manage to feed you half a bowl. The rest spilled… it spilled onto… your clothes.”

Rong Ting lifted his gaze, locking eyes with her. His voice was hoarse as he asked. “Did you feed me the medicine?”

“Mm.”

Jiang Rao had wanted to let the maid serve him, but for some reason, whenever the maid came near him, he would faint and, even in his unconscious state, instinctively try to choke her…

The old doctor wasn’t an option either.

Even unconscious, he rejected anyone coming near him. In her mind, Jiang Rao revised her understanding of his character—not just suspicious, but deeply so, ingrained in his bones, and truly violent.

Yet when she was close to him, he remained still, so she decided to feed him herself.

^_^