The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 19

A crowd had gathered in front of the woodshed.

By the time Jiang Zhinan arrived, A’ning’s body had already been dragged out and laid on the marble steps to the side. It was a horrifying sight—one so ghastly that it sent chills straight to the bone.

“Yu’an!” Jiang Chengxuan rushed to block her path the moment he saw her. “Let me handle this. You don’t need to worry yourself over it.”

He spoke gently, afraid that the gruesome sight might frighten her, that the shock might take a toll on her health.

But Jiang Zhinan seemed not to hear a single word he said. She brushed his hand away and continued walking forward—step by steady step—until she stood before the body.

There was a deep, vicious cut across the corpse’s neck, the wound so severe it could only have been fatal.

Worse still, the face had been burned beyond recognition. No trace of her features remained, and the skin on the body had been flayed away, leaving nothing but raw, blackened flesh. Whoever had done this had shown no mercy.

Jiang Zhinan looked at that body, and even her heartbeat trembled.

The height was the same, the clothes were the same—even the faint mole at the nape of the neck was identical.

Every detail pointed to one fact: the corpse was A’ning’s.

For a long time, Jiang Zhinan said nothing. She bent down and gently took the corpse’s hand in hers, gripping it tightly.

Jiang Chengxuan thought she would cry—after all, the dead girl had been her most beloved servant. He expected her to collapse in grief.

But he was wrong.

Jiang Zhinan did not shed a single tear. Her face was calm, her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable.

“Yu’an.” Jiang Chengxuan began softly, wanting to offer some comfort.

“Bury her,” Jiang Zhinan cut him off, her voice low but steady. “Find her a good resting place and see that it’s done properly. As for the murderer,” she paused briefly, “you have one month to find them.”

The servants bowed their heads. “Yes, Miss.”

They watched silently as she turned and walked away.

Only then did they realize—how truly heartless their young lady could be.

When A’ning had been alive, Miss Jiang had doted on her endlessly, loving her to the point of madness. She would have plucked the stars from the sky for her if she could. Even that time when A’ning had recklessly set a fire, it was Miss Jiang’s pleas that spared her from execution.

But now that A’ning was dead in such a pitiful state, Miss Jiang didn’t even shed a tear. She didn’t say a single word of mourning.

Truly, she was colder than anyone could imagine.

Jiang Zhinan did not return to her room. Instead, she went to the pavilion where she had once played chess with Yang Zimo.

The chessboard they had used that day still sat there, untouched. No one had bothered to clear it away, and the pieces were already gathering dust, the wood faintly warped by the wind.

Jiang Zhinan picked up a white piece between her fingers, her expression distant.

“Are you alright?” the system finally asked, worried by her long silence. “You don’t have to be too upset. After all.”

“After all, A’ning isn’t really dead, is she?” Jiang Zhinan interrupted softly, a crease forming between her brows.

The system, realizing she had already guessed the truth, didn’t bother to continue its comfort. Instead, it asked how she had known.

“At first, I really did think it was her,” Jiang Zhinan murmured. “The body looked exactly like her—the height, the clothes, even the mole at the back of her neck.”

She paused, her voice quieter. “But then I noticed her hands.”

“The ring?” the system asked. “The one she had made to match the earring—you kept the earring, and she had the ring.”

“Yes.” Jiang Zhinan nodded faintly. “No one else might have noticed, but I knew. Ever since she got that ring, she’s never once taken it off.”

“But that body had no ring. Not even a mark where one might have been.” She lowered her gaze. “That means whoever died, wasn’t her.”

The system hummed in agreement.

“She covered her tracks perfectly,” Jiang Zhinan said, a wry smile curving her lips. “Except for that one tiny flaw—something only I would notice. Maybe she left it on purpose, to let me know she’s safe.”

Her voice faltered. “But if that’s the case, why did she have to leave at all? Why make everyone believe she was dead?”

A wave of helplessness rose quietly in her chest.

A’ning had always been full of secrets—perhaps in this lifetime, Jiang Zhinan would never be able to unravel them all.

“214,” she asked softly as she rose from her seat, “do you think A’ning will come back?”

“She will,” the system replied. “She loves you too much not to.”

“I hope so.”

Jiang Zhinan sighed, picked up the chess piece from the table, and held it close as she walked back to her room.

After A’ning’s departure, everything seemed to lose its color.

Jiang Zhinan’s days fell into the same quiet rhythm as before—rising and sleeping at set hours, reading when bored, or sitting beneath the sun, letting its warmth touch a heart that had long since gone cold.

When she could no longer see that familiar figure, a hollow emptiness settled in her chest, as if something vital was missing.

Time passed slowly, and before long, the day of the provincial exam arrived.

That morning, Jiang Zhinan sent someone out to inquire—whether among those taking the exam there was a candidate named A’ning.

The servant was gone the entire day, and when he finally returned, he reported, “No such person was found.”

“I understand,” Jiang Zhinan said, nodding lightly and dismissing him. Yet her heart was a tangle of emotions.

So, the child hadn’t gone to take the exam. She had studied so diligently, worked so hard—and in the end, she’d given up halfway, not even showing up.

“Perhaps something important came up,” the system offered. “That might have delayed her.”

Jiang Zhinan nodded in response, but said nothing more.

How dull everything felt.

With A-ning’s sudden disappearance, Jiang Zhinan’s mission progress had also come to a halt, leaving her trapped in this world.

All she could do now was admire flowers, brew tea, and nibble on pastries—small, idle things that barely filled her days.

And so, the years drifted by in a haze. The county exam ended, then the provincial exam, and finally the palace examination.

Later, Jiang Zhinan heard that this year’s top scorer—the zhuangyuan—was a woman, named Ying Wanyan.

A woman, indeed.

Jiang Zhinan couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion upon hearing it.

Truly remarkable. Yet, if A’ning had taken the exam as well, that title might not have been so easily claimed by another.

She had always possessed absolute faith in her child’s abilities—one hundred percent, without a shred of doubt.

But now, that faith served no purpose at all.

Time moved on, and in the blink of an eye, three years had passed.

Winter returned once more. Disliking the cold, Jiang Zhinan stayed indoors as usual, rarely stepping outside.

After all this time, her longing for A’ning had faded somewhat. She had gradually grown used to the girl’s absence, her life settling once more into quiet routine.

At this moment, she was reading a book, a cup of hot tea by her side—content and at ease.

But before she could turn more than a few pages, a sudden commotion erupted outside.

The sharp crash of glass and porcelain shattered the stillness, followed by shouting, crying—chaos that surged all at once, like the wails of hell breaking loose.

Jiang Zhinan froze, startled by the sound.

Before she could react, a maid burst through the door, panic written all over her face. “Miss, it’s terrible! The master—he’s been accused of committing treason against the emperor! His Majesty has ordered the entire household to be raided!”

“Raided?” Jiang Zhinan echoed, her heart sinking like a stone.

So, it had happened after all—the very thing she had feared for years.

Even back then, she’d sensed something was bound to go wrong. It had seemed too unlikely that the emperor’s sudden change of attitude was genuine—there were too many inconsistencies, too many doubts.

But the emperor, worthy of his throne, had bided his time in silence—until now.

“Yes, miss! You must flee at once! There’s a secret passage in the house—it leads into the woods!” the maid urged. She rushed to the bookshelf, pulled a hidden mechanism, and a narrow passage slowly revealed itself before Jiang Zhinan’s eyes.

Jiang Zhinan had no time to ask anything before the maid pushed her inside and sealed the entrance again.

“Go!” the maid cried, her voice trembling, almost breaking into sobs. “I’ll stay and hold them off for you.”

Hearing the girl’s words, Jiang Zhinan’s tears began to fall.

Grief welled deep in her heart, but she knew she had no power to change the fate that had already descended upon them. Clenching her jaw, she steeled herself and fled down the dark passageway.

Even in that desperate moment, as danger closed in from all sides, her thoughts turned once more to A’ning.

If only A’ning was here with her now—how wonderful that would be.

The thought ached in her chest, and her already trembling heart grew heavier with sorrow.