After Transmigrating into a Book, I Was Entangled by the Paranoid Eldest Princess - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Miss, the doctor is here.”

Wen Chenqing looked up and saw Ginkgo leading in a middle-aged woman dressed simply and carrying a medicine chest. She immediately rose to vacate her seat. “I shall have to trouble you.”

The doctor stepped forward, looking at the woman on the bed who appeared to be in a deep sleep with her eyes closed. She turned to Wen Chenqing and asked, “What are her symptoms?”

Wen Chenqing glanced at the woman, who had been unconscious for twelve hours now. “She suddenly fainted last night and hasn’t woken up since. I’m a bit uneasy, so I must trouble you to take her pulse and see what the situation is.”

Her original plan was to send the person away as soon as she woke up. She hadn’t expected the other party to sleep on without waking. After getting up this morning, Wen Chenqing thought it over and felt it was better to be safe. Even if they were just strangers passing by, since she had the ability to call a doctor, there was no need to hesitate. Thus, early in the morning, Wen Chenqing had sent Mrs. Chen and Ginkgo to fetch a local physician.

As they spoke, the doctor held her breath and focused her gaze, placing her warm, dry hand upon the pulse. Wen Chenqing stood by waiting, her gaze moving back and forth between the person on the bed and the doctor.

After a moment, the doctor withdrew her hand, her brow furrowing slightly as if she had encountered a difficult problem. “This young lady’s pulse is rapid; sometimes frequent and forceful, other times frequent and weak. It is rather strange.”

Wen Chenqing looked blank; she didn’t quite understand the terminology. But it sounded like something was wrong. She pressed, “So she is ill? What are the symptoms?”

The doctor, whose hair was flecked with silver at the temples, deliberated on how to respond. Right at that moment, there was a sudden movement on the bed. Wen Chenqing and the doctor looked over together.

“So she is ill?”

The moment Si Jinghua regained consciousness, those words drifted into her ears. The woman’s voice was urgent but not frantic, the volume kept low as if afraid of disturbing something.

But—ill? Who?

Anger rose before she even spoke. Si Jinghua opened her eyes, intending to demand who was so bold as to be so disrespectful to her, only to find herself staring directly into a pair of slightly rounded eyes looking back at her.

The displeasure rising from her heart stalled instantly. A flicker of light passed through her phoenix eyes as Si Jinghua concentrated, trying to recall who this person was.

Wen Chenqing scrutinized the awakened person for a few seconds before turning to the silent doctor. The doctor met her gaze, a look of confusion on her face. Wen Chenqing cleared her throat and, under this bizarre silence, took the lead in breaking the ice.

“Doctor, she didn’t hit her head when she fainted last night, so…” Wen Chenqing paused, then continued to ask kindly, “So, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with her head, right?”

Ginkgo immediately cast a sympathetic look toward the bed. The doctor remained silent. Si Jinghua was stunned, then utterly enraged!

How dare this brat!

Her fury blazed high. Just as Si Jinghua was about to lash out, a flash of insight hit her, and she suddenly understood the current situation.

Ever since she had a fight with her Imperial Father and Imperial Brother in the palace a few days ago, she had been in a foul mood. Her close attendants suggested she leave the palace to relax, but Si Jinghua was currently taking out her anger on the noble scions of the capital because of the argument. Furthermore, she was already bored with the various entertainments in the city and lacked interest.

It wasn’t until Fuqu happened to mention that it was currently spring and the scenery in the suburbs was beautiful—suggesting she might go there to enjoy the spring and ride horses—that Si Jinghua remembered she owned a villa outside the capital. There was a hunting ground there; though not as vast or diverse as the Royal Hunting Ground, it had the advantage of being far from the Imperial Palace, making it convenient to stay away from the people she temporarily didn’t want to see.

However, Si Jinghua regretted it the moment she arrived two days ago. She had grown up in a lavish Princely Manor, pampered by her parents. Later, when the throne changed hands, her status became even more noble. Her food, clothing, housing, and transportation were all of the highest quality; she had never stayed in such a “shabby” villa.

Yes, shabby. Even though the servants at the villa had decorated it with great care, Si Jinghua was still dissatisfied. But since she had already come, going back immediately would make her feel like she had lost her momentum, so she stayed. She simply sent people back to the palace to fetch items from her storehouse to rearrange the villa into something barely presentable.

Yesterday, while the villa was bustling with decorators, Si Jinghua took her personal maids and guards and rode straight to the hunting ground. Horses galloped, chasing and killing. It wasn’t until the sky grew late that Si Jinghua intended to return. The blood splattered during the life-and-death struggle of the prey had stained the hem of her clothes. After the hunt ended, Si Jinghua found the smell of blood and stench unbearable, so she removed her outer robe.

The evening wind of early spring was still somewhat cold, yet Si Jinghua’s body, after galloping for so long, felt hot and restless, her warm blood stirring. She rode her horse back leisurely with her attendants. As they passed a villa even “shabbier” than hers, Fuqu, at her side, softly brought up the aftermath of the falling-into-the-water episode at the Marquis of Chen’en’s manor.

A bored Si Jinghua instantly remembered that woman with the “diseased mind.” She had a faint impression; that social-climbing woman seemed to have appeared before her once. What did she look like then? Si Jinghua realized she could only recall a blurry face and a familiar, boring, fawning expression.

But she remembered the woman’s face after falling into the water quite clearly. Along with the awakened memory came that nonchalant remark: “Probably because my brain froze.”

She suddenly grew interested. She rode her horse closer to the courtyard and, under the grey-black night sky, saw a silhouette walking on the path. With the crescent moon in the sky and the lonely evening, Si Jinghua’s mind timely recalled those “Strange Tales” storybooks she had read when bored. She flipped off her horse, signaled her followers not to make a sound, suppressed her breathing, and walked silently behind the person.

However, before she could make any move, she felt a wave of dizziness, and then she had no further memory. Now, she had presumably been brought back by that Second Miss Wen.

“As to whether there is a problem, I still need to examine her.”

The doctor couldn’t be certain of the patient’s condition. She stepped forward two steps, reaching out with the intention of prying the patient’s eyes open for a careful look. Si Jinghua instinctively frowned and dodged, a hint of impatience appearing between her brows.

Wen Chenqing had been observing the strange woman’s expression. Seeing this, she spoke to stop the doctor. “I must have been mistaken just now.”

Just now, when she saw the woman on the bed wake up with a dull gaze, she instinctively thought of something like a concussion. Now she realized the woman’s eyes could be described as “piercingly bright”—it seemed her head was probably fine. She felt a bit embarrassed. “I see this lady is in high spirits; her head should be fine.”

The doctor withdrew her hand, looked left and right, and finally knit her brows in deep thought over that pulse from earlier.

When Si Jinghua heard the words of that Second Miss Wen, a trace of oddness flashed in her heart. She doesn’t recognize me?

This was simply absurd! Even if Si Jinghua didn’t have a clear impression of the fawning Second Miss Wen from not long ago, her conversation with Fuqu yesterday confirmed that this matter wasn’t a product of her imagination. Yet how long had it been? The other party’s every posture suggested she didn’t know her. Was that possible?

Everyone in the world knew that the current Eldest Princess enjoyed great imperial favor. Connecting with the Princess’s Manor was like finding a ladder to the heavens. Hadn’t this Second Miss Wen’s previous desire to make her acquaintance been driven by exactly this thought? Yet in the blink of an eye, the Eldest Princess she so greedily craved was right before her, and she acted as if they were strangers.

Fuqu had also mentioned yesterday that this Second Miss Wen was not someone of good character, yet meeting her today, it didn’t seem to match. Interesting, interesting—truly too interesting. Did she really ruin her brain by falling into the water at the Marquis’s manor?

Si Jinghua’s thoughts were myriad, but she suddenly changed her expression before the people at her bedside.

“…Where is this?”

Facing this somewhat awkward situation, Wen Chenqing was about to speak when she suddenly heard the soft whisper from the bed. Meeting the other’s confused eyes, she briefly explained the current situation and added considerately, “You haven’t been home all night; surely your family must be worried. Since you’re awake, why not let the doctor see what is wrong with your body? If everything is fine, it will be easier for you to return home early.”

To her surprise, the woman on the bed mumbled a couple of times upon hearing this, saying somewhat piteously, “Do I have a family? I… I don’t remember.”

Wen Chenqing: “?”

She was shocked. “You don’t remember?”

The woman nodded. “Mhm, I don’t remember.”

Wen Chenqing grew worried. “Then do you know what your name is?”

Si Jinghua lifted her eyes to glance at the Second Miss Wen, who looked like she was facing a thorny problem. She lowered her eyes and thought leisurely: What name should I have? Forget it, let’s go with—

“A-Jin.” She said, “I should be called A-Jin.”

What do you mean “should be”?

Wen Chenqing followed up, “No surname?”

The woman called A-Jin gave a slow shake of her head. It’s just a name made up on the spot; why would I need a surname?

Wen Chenqing was somewhat disappointed. This memory loss was far too thorough. “Do you really remember nothing at all?”

A-Jin looked somewhat panicked. “I only remember my name. I can’t recall anything else.”

The way she rushed to answer made her look quite pitiful. Standing behind, Ginkgo was shocked by this strange turn of events but couldn’t help but sympathize with her. Wen Chenqing was not a cold-hearted person; seeing this, she also felt a bit of pity. Since transmigrating, her inheritance of the original host’s memories wasn’t entirely comprehensive—only the academic parts were worry-free—so she occasionally felt the frustration of blurry memories herself.

Feeling a bit like a fellow sufferer, Wen Chenqing’s questioning stance softened, and she didn’t seem so pressing anymore. She looked at the person called A-Jin, instinctively ignoring a sliver of inconsistency that rose in her heart when looking at her. She chose her words to comfort her: “Don’t worry yet. The doctor from the clinic is right here; let her examine your body.”

“Doctor Shen, I must trouble you to take a careful look.”

Doctor Shen said, “As I should.”

In the end, she still reached out toward the patient’s eyes, lifting the eyelids to look closely. Si Jinghua suppressed the urge to swat her away, sitting stiffly against the bed as she accepted the doctor’s examination.

Her visibly stiff manner was interpreted by Wen Chenqing as the instinctive defensiveness of someone who didn’t recognize anyone. It was normal; she could actually understand that situation quite well. It was just that this A-Jin’s phoenix eyes had lost some of their luster; despite her beautiful features, her shoulder bones looked a bit thin. In this state, she appeared quite fragile and piteous.