Ordinarily, Jiang Mengyue wouldn’t bother reaching out to Jin Jingxiu—he was always the one chasing her, eager to please. But now, she had no choice but to lower herself, however reluctantly.
That fool Jin Jingxiu was easy to sway. A few kind words, and he’d come clinging back without shame.
Foolish as he was, he still had his uses.
All it would take was introducing him to the Crown Prince—then the Crown Prince’s worries would ease.
Jiang Mengyue composed a letter and instructed her maid to deliver it to the Jin residence.
The next day.
Early morning, the maid was sent to deliver the letter. The young lady had made her instructions clear: it must be handed directly to Young Master Jin, without delay.
At the Jin residence, a servant stood outside Jin Jingxiu’s courtyard, pacing with visible concern.
The young master had shut himself in for days. Miss Jiang dragged him out for a breath of fresh air, but when they returned, he seemed even worse.
Now he just sits there, staring blankly at the wall.
At times, he would sigh at the wall; at others, he’d claw at his ears or strike himself in frustration.
If this isn’t illness, then what is?
The young master’s condition is quite serious.
The servant didn’t know what to do. Perhaps… he ought to inform the madam.
Just then, the gatekeeper came with a message: a woman from West Alley had sent a letter—meant for the young master.
The servant paused. West Alley? Wasn’t that where Second Miss Jiang lived?
Clutching the letter, the servant hurried off, visibly delighted, to deliver it to Jin Jingxiu.
Once the young master sees Second Miss Jiang’s letter, surely his spirits will lift.
“Master, look—see who’s sent you a letter.” The servant stepped into the room, voice soft but eager.
Jin Jingxiu sat in silence, eyes fixed on the wall. But he wasn’t looking at the wall—he was staring at the whip hanging there. The one Jiang Ning had returned to him. He’d been sitting like that for an entire day.
Jiang Ning’s radiant, unrestrained presence was etched deep in his heart—impossible to forget.
Every time he thinks about it, his heart skips a beat.
He couldn’t forget. He sat there in a daze, lifting his face to gaze at the whip.
Seeing no response, the servant stepped closer and said with a gentle smile, “It’s a letter from Second Miss Jiang.”
Jin Jingxiu remained motionless, as if he hadn’t heard a word.
The servant froze. How could this be? Anything related to Second Miss Jiang used to stir the young master instantly— but now, not even a flicker?
“Master?” The servant gently waved the letter. “It’s from Second Miss Jiang…”
"......"
Still, no response.
The servant stood in disbelief for a long moment. Then, with deliberate words, he said, “Very well. I’ll return Second Miss Jiang’s letter. The young master isn’t well enough to receive visitors.”
Jin Jingxiu responded with a soft hum, acknowledging the servant’s words.
The incessant chatter disturbed his thoughts. Wishing only for quiet, he said with growing impatience, “That will do. You may go.”
The servant stood in stunned silence. It was now evident—the young master was truly ill. And the condition appeared to be severe.
Even matters concerning Second Miss Jiang couldn’t stir the young master. If this isn’t illness, what is?
The servant turned and hurried off, intent on informing the madam.
Just as he reached the courtyard gate, he ran into Jin Weilan.
"Miss……"
Jin Weilan saw the flustered servant and stepped in his path. “What’s happened?” she asked, her voice calm but firm.
“Miss—something’s wrong. The young master is sick.”
“What?” Jin Weilan’s heart gave a sudden jolt. Could it be because of what happened before? “What happened? Where is my brother hurt?”
“He’s not injured—he’s gravely ill!” The servant handed Jin Weilan the letter. “Look—this just arrived from Second Miss Jiang.”
“Jiang Mengyue?” Jin Weilan’s brow furrowed, distaste flickering across her face.
“Before, anything to do with Second Miss Jiang would stir the young master. But just now, when I said I’d return her letter—he simply nodded. He let me return it.”
The servant looked as though he’d seen a ghost, disbelief written all over his face.
Jin Weilan froze, momentarily unable to respond.
He’s returning Jiang Mengyue’s letter? Has the sun risen from the west today?
Jin Weilan took the letter from the servant’s hands. “This was sent by Jiang Mengyue?”
“Yes—Second Miss Jiang sent someone with it,” the servant replied softly.
“He said to return the letter?”
“Yes!” The servant nodded so hard it was as if he might shake his head loose. It was hard to believe. Everyone knew the young master admired Second Miss Jiang— he used to lose all sense the moment her name was mentioned.
Jin Weilan looked at the delicate handwriting. It was unmistakably Jiang Mengyue’s.
She burst out laughing.
“What are you standing there for? Hurry and return the letter, just as he instructed.”
"Miss, this..."
“Go on, quickly!” Jin Weilan dismissed the servant. At last, her brother had come to his senses. What was so special about Jiang Mengyue anyway? She treated people like dogs at her beck and call.
“Good. Let her taste what it’s like to fall from the clouds.”
Jin Weilan went to Jin Jingxiu’s room.
She found Jin Jingxiu standing before the wall, lost in thought, his gaze fixed and distant.
She walked over quietly. “Well done,” she said. “You’ve finally come to your senses. What was ever so good about Jiang Mengyue?”
Upon approaching, Jin Weilan saw that Jin Jingxiu was not staring blankly at the wall— he was focused on the whip hanging there, deep in thought.
“Hm? Isn’t that the whip A'Ning used when she saved you?”
Upon hearing her words, Jin Jingxiu showed a subtle change in expression and quietly clenched his fist.
“Why are you looking at the whip?” Jin Weilan asked, puzzled. She had assumed her brother was unwell— but he appeared perfectly normal, not at all like someone suffering from sickness.
Jin Jingxiu remained silent, lowering his gaze without a word.
He himself wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
A'Ning had used that whip to save him… Yet he had once stood at the Marquis’s gate, holding it— and used it to humiliate her.
The thought left him heavy-hearted. He felt a deep frustration, an urge to punish himself for his past actions.
“Weilan, I…” He spoke in a subdued tone, just as he was about to continue.
Snap!
A firm slap landed on his back, causing him to stagger from the unexpected impact.
Jin Weilan suddenly remembered— they had never properly thanked A'Ning for saving him. She raised her hand and struck Jin Jingxiu’s back, firm but not cruel. “A'Ning saved your life. And you haven’t even thanked her?”
“No. This time, you must go. I’ll go with you. And if you don’t prepare a proper gift for A'Ning, don’t blame your sister for being less than gentle.”
Jin Weilan spoke through gritted teeth, her tone firm and unyielding.
Going to thank Jiang Ning?
Jin Jingshu paused, momentarily stunned. Then his thoughts cleared, and the melancholy of recent days dissipated entirely.
He now had a legitimate reason to visit Jiang Ning.
Jin Jingxiu turned around and left.
Jin Weilan stamped her foot, frustration rising. “Brother, where are you going?”
“Preparing a substantial gift.” Jin Jingxiu left the remark behind as he swiftly made his way to the storeroom.
Jin Weilan looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Jin Jingshu—obedient? He was actually going to the Marquis’s residence to thank A-Ning, just like that?
Could it be that he is genuinely ill?
🐇♡🐇♡🐇♡🐇
Runa's Nonsense Corner/ Translator's World
Obedience Fever
Jin Jingxiu storms off with dramatic purpose, robes flaring like a man possessed. Jin Weilan stares after him, stunned.
STOREROOM – MOMENTS LATER
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