Chapter 16 Once Loved Him So Deeply

Chapter 16: Once Loved Him So Deeply

Jiang Shuning turned to leave, resigned. She had taken only one step when she collided with the Seventh Prince, who was hurrying over.

“Sister-in-law, are you here to visit Fourth Brother as well?” The Seventh Prince’s gaze shifted to the food box in her hand. “Is this for Fourth Brother? I’ll take it in for you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Jiang Shuning handed over the food box, her fingertips trembling slightly.

After a moment of silence, she could no longer suppress the worry in her heart and asked softly, “I heard Fourth Prince’s injuries are very serious. Is that true?”

The Seventh Prince’s expression darkened as he sighed. “Serious? That’s an understatement! The Nanyue spy struck viciously. Fourth Brother bled so profusely last night that half his bedchamber was stained red—a terrifying sight. The imperial physicians worked all night just to barely stop the bleeding.”

Jiang Shuning’s heart tightened, and she pressed gently, “Was the blood… red or black?”

The Seventh Prince was taken aback and blurted out, “Blood… is naturally red!”

Hearing this, Jiang Shuning finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness—he wasn’t poisoned.

Composing herself, she curtsied gracefully to the Seventh Prince and said gently, “In that case, I thank Your Highness for your kindness. I shall visit Fourth Prince another day.”

“Take care, Sister-in-law!”

The Seventh Prince entered the palace carrying the food box.

Inside the bedchamber, Xiao Lingchuan reclined halfway against the pillows. His upper body was bare, and white bandages wrapped tightly around his chest—faint traces of blood staining their surface.

His face was as pale as paper, yet his brows retained their sharp, commanding edge. His eyes remained clear and bright as stars—undimmed by injury.

Seeing the Seventh Prince enter, he lifted his gaze slightly and asked in a low voice, “Has Miss Jiang left?”

The Seventh Prince grinned. “Yes, Fourth Brother. This is what she specially brought for you!”

Xiao Lingchuan accepted the food box and opened it. Inside sat a steaming bowl of soup—the rich, earthy aroma of angelica root mingling with savory meat, making one’s mouth water.

“Angelica root and meat soup—specifically for replenishing qi and blood. Sister-in-law is truly thoughtful!” The Seventh Prince leaned in, took an exaggerated deep breath, and squinted his eyes. “So fragrant! Fourth Brother, you’re really in for a treat!”

Xiao Lingchuan picked up a spoon, scooped a small mouthful, and brought it to his lips.

The broth was warm, its flavor rich and mellow. A familiar warmth spread through his chest—and his expression softened, unbidden.

Seeing this, the Seventh Prince couldn’t resist teasing, “Oh my—Fourth Brother, your eyes turned gentle the moment you drank that soup. It *has* to be Sister-in-law!”

Xiao Lingchuan shot him a sidelong glance. “Noisy.”

The Seventh Prince’s smile faded as he spoke quietly, “Fourth Brother, I noticed Sister-in-law seems quite worried about your injuries. Do you truly plan to keep it from her entirely—not even letting her know you’ve woken up?”

Xiao Lingchuan’s expression remained indifferent. “Even His Majesty remains in the dark about this. Naturally, she is no exception.”

The Seventh Prince scratched his head, seemingly wanting to press further—but Xiao Lingchuan cut him off coldly. “Is everything arranged properly with Imperial Physician Liu?”

“All set! He’s terrified his wife in the capital will find out he has a wife and children back home. He was so scared he immediately agreed to exaggerate the severity of your injuries. Father trusts him completely—even summoned him for a private consultation yesterday and didn’t suspect a thing.” At this, the Seventh Prince grew curious. “Fourth Brother—how on earth did you know Imperial Physician Liu has a wife and children in his hometown?”

Xiao Lingchuan sipped the soup unhurriedly, his peach-blossom eyes narrowing slightly—a flicker of profound light passing through their depths. “Heaven’s secrets cannot be revealed.”

—

Jiang Shuning returned to the Jiang residence, her mind unsettled. Even dinner held no flavor.

Her elder brother, Jiang Tianen, seeing her state, couldn’t resist teasing, “Ning, why so distracted? Could it be your marriage is troubling you? I was on duty last night and missed the Moon God Banquet—but I heard people say the Third Prince publicly declared he wants to marry you. Ning, the position of Third Prince’s Consort is practically yours for the taking!”

Just like in her previous life, her brother had a knack for striking raw nerves.

Jiang Shuning lost her appetite entirely after his words. She made an excuse to leave the dining table and retired early to her room.

That very night, she suffered a nightmare tied to her past life.

In her previous life, not long after marrying into the Jing Prince’s mansion, one evening Xiao Lingchuan returned home gravely injured—black blood oozing from his wound, soaking half his robe. It was horrifying.

The shadow guard who carried him in told her, “His Highness was struck by a poisoned arrow. The poison is strange—even the mansion’s physician is at a loss.”

Upon hearing this, she felt as if struck by lightning, nearly collapsing to the ground. A heart-wrenching sob rose in her throat.

Xiao Lingchuan leaned against the couch, his face deathly pale—yet his gaze swept over her like a cold blade. “What are you crying for? If this prince dies, you can simply remarry. Why put on such an act?”

But she paid no heed to his cold words. Tears fell like shattered pearls as she rushed forward, tightly embracing him, and choked out, “If you die, your concubine won’t live either…”

The dream ended there—abruptly. She jolted awake, her pillow already damp, tear stains still clinging to the corners of her eyes.

So, in her previous life, she had loved Xiao Lingchuan so deeply that the mere thought of his death made her wish to follow him into the grave.

Yet he was such a cold, indifferent, unfeeling man—his heart impossible to warm.

Later, he miraculously recovered from the brink of death—while she, years later, died from poisoning. How bitterly ironic.

Startled awake by the nightmare, Jiang Shuning’s emotions churned violently. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

With no other choice, she rose, draped a robe over her shoulders, and pushed open the door to step outside.

The late-autumn night was clear and biting—the moonlight like frost. She walked along the winding corridors of the Jiang residence toward the rear garden, hoping the chill would dispel the gloom in her heart.

As she passed the Qili Courtyard—where Jiang Yaozhen resided—faint whispers pierced the night’s silence.

She paused slightly. So late—and people were still awake in Jiang Yaozhen’s courtyard?

Driven by curiosity, she approached the courtyard gate quietly and listened closely.

From inside came Jiang Yaozhen’s suppressed sobs, laced with resentment: “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t been absent, how could I have ended up in this state? Now the Third Prince wants to marry Jiang Shuning. Father not only struck me but also confined me to my quarters—he won’t even let me attend royal banquets anymore. What chance do I have to enter the palace?”

Jiang Shuning initially assumed she was merely venting—and paid little attention. She was about to turn away when Jiang Yaozhen’s voice rose again from within the courtyard, growing more urgent: “Didn’t you tell me to learn dancing and practice horseback riding, saying men like those things? But the Third Prince couldn’t care less! He’s *hopelessly smitten* with that aloof, prim-and-proper lady—Jiang Shuning!”

“You tell me to be patient and wait. How much patience can I possibly have left? I don’t care. If you truly have my best interests at heart—help me ruin Jiang Shuning! As long as she’s gone, the Third Prince will naturally turn his attention to me!”

Hearing these words, Jiang Shuning felt a chill run down her spine.

Not because of Jiang Yaozhen’s malicious scheming—but because she realized Jiang Yaozhen appeared to be speaking to *herself*, with no one responding at all.

Could she have developed hysteria?

No—that wasn’t right. Knowing Jiang Yaozhen, she wouldn’t descend into madness merely from confinement.

Could it be…

Jiang Shuning circled to the low wall beside the courtyard, moved a stone stool over, and carefully stood upon it.

Sure enough—a dark figure appeared atop the courtyard wall.

The figure was gaunt as a wraith, hands flying rapidly through the air—communicating with Jiang Yaozhen in sign language!

Jiang Shuning's heart suddenly raced, and cold sweat trickled down her temples.

The estate guards were strict, yet this person could infiltrate silently, clearly possessing extraordinary skills.

If this person harbored ill intentions, taking the lives of those in the estate would be as easy as flipping one's palm.

She held her breath, forcing herself to calm down. Her gaze locked on the mysterious shadow for a moment before she quietly stepped down from the stone stool and slipped away without a sound.

Now was not the time for rash action. She needed to devise a foolproof plan to either completely subdue this person or eliminate them in one fell swoop, only then could she ensure the Jiang Estate's safety.