The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 21

When Jiang Zhinan woke up, she felt a sharp stiffness in her neck—most likely from sleeping on the hard ground. Every joint in her body ached as if she had been pummeled all night.

The weather hadn’t improved since yesterday. The sky was still overcast, and the wind that blew in through the broken walls cut straight to the bone.

She frowned and sat up, only to be met by a cold gust that instantly swept away the last trace of sleepiness.

Well, she was certainly wide awake now.

It wasn’t too early in the morning, yet the streets outside were already bustling. Vendors had set up their stalls, and the beggars who had been sprawled across the ruined temple the night before were all gone. The noisy, lively streets beyond formed a stark contrast to the silence within the dilapidated shrine.

Jiang Zhinan hesitated for a moment, then decided to go out and gather information.

She needed to find out what had happened to Governor Jiang and Jiang Yujin, learn of Jiang Chengxuan’s whereabouts—and, most importantly, figure out where A’ning was.

With that thought, Jiang Zhinan lowered her head and grabbed a handful of straw from the ground.

“What are you doing?” the system asked.

“Disguising myself,” she replied, stuffing the straw inside her clothes.

The straw was dry and fluffy, bulking up her figure immediately. The once slender lines of her body were now round and oddly plump.

“Doesn’t that itch?” the system asked, half amused, half concerned.

“It does,” Jiang Zhinan admitted with a nod. “But it’s better than being caught. This way, no one will recognize me as Jiang Yu’an anymore.”

“Mm,” the system said, agreeing readily. “They really won’t.”

After a night’s sleep, the mud she had smeared on her face the previous day had dried and clung tightly to her skin. She looked like a cat that had rolled through the mud ten times over. Her clothes were caked with dirt as well, and with the added straw, she now appeared to be nothing more than an overweight beggar.

No one in their right mind would guess that this pitiful figure was once the Jiang family’s daughter.

Satisfied with her disguise, Jiang Zhinan took one last look at herself before stepping outside.

There were still plenty of soldiers patrolling the streets. Jiang Zhinan moved cautiously, avoiding their gaze until she finally came to a small inn.

It was a modest two-story building—the lower floor for eating and drinking, the upper for lodging.

She crouched nearby, close enough that she could overhear the conversation of the patrons inside if she listened carefully.

There weren’t many people in the inn at this hour; most were early risers having breakfast, still too groggy for lively conversation.

But Jiang Zhinan had plenty of time to spare. There was no rush.

Not far from the inn, a street vendor was selling steamed buns. Jiang Zhinan quietly made her way over, bought two, and returned to crouch under the eaves. She ate as she listened, chewing in silence while keeping her ears sharp for any useful information.

She’d only taken a few bites when someone passing by tossed a copper coin her way.

At first, Jiang Zhinan didn’t understand what was happening. She thought the person had dropped it by accident, so she picked up the coin, blew the dust off, and was about to call after them to return it.

It wasn’t until the system reminded her that she realized—right now, she was supposed to be a beggar.

The passerby was long gone. Jiang Zhinan watched their retreating back for a moment before slipping the copper coin into her pocket.

At least she’d have money for another bun tonight.

With that comforting thought, she edged a little closer to the inn’s entrance.

There were quite a few beggars on this street. Some had been there since dawn but hadn’t earned a single coin. Seeing Jiang Zhinan receive one so easily, a few immediately shifted closer, choosing to squat beside her.

Before long, four or five of them had gathered together.

The beggars all seemed to know each other and quickly began chatting—gossiping about official scandals, palace rumors, and half-believable tales that sounded like wild exaggerations.

Jiang Zhinan split her attention between the inn’s patrons and the beggars beside her, listening intently to both sides. For a while, she was almost too busy to breathe.

Then, amid the chatter from inside, she suddenly heard someone mention her second brother.

“What’s going on lately?” a burly man was saying, sipping at his tea with a click of his tongue. “Why are there so many soldiers patrolling around?”

“You don’t know?” someone else lowered his voice conspiratorially. “That Jiang fellow got caught embezzling. The imperial court sent people to confiscate his property—arrested him and his eldest son too. Only the second son and youngest daughter are still missing. The soldiers are out looking for them day and night.”

“Ah, I see.” The burly man nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard to catch them though. After something like that, the city gates must be heavily guarded. No way they can escape.”

“Exactly!” another voice chimed in, speaking with mysterious importance. “Let me tell you—I actually saw their second son last night.”

At that, Jiang Zhinan’s eyes widened.

The people inside reacted the same way, their curiosity instantly piqued. They pressed him for details—where had he seen him, why hadn’t he reported it to the authorities?

“I can’t say,” the man replied, shaking his head. He suddenly sounded evasive. “It was just by chance that I saw him. I’ve got no proof, so there’s no bounty for me anyway.”

“Of course not,” someone snorted. But before the group could continue, one of the beggars beside Jiang Zhinan suddenly muttered, “That man’s full of hot air.”

“What do you mean?” Jiang Zhinan turned her head, puzzled, and asked softly.

The beggar rubbed his grimy hands together and made a gesture—he wanted that copper coin she’d just earned.

Jiang Zhinan nodded and obediently placed the copper coin into the beggar’s palm.

The beggar smiled faintly, stroking his scruffy beard as he slowly recounted what he knew.

Because Jiang Chengxuan was a public figure and often out handling official affairs, his face was well known among the common folk.

According to the beggar, Jiang Chengxuan had actually left long before the raid on the Jiang residence took place. At the time, he was sitting inside a sedan chair, traveling along a quiet, secluded road with only a few attendants—so few that hardly anyone noticed him.

The beggar only happened to see him by chance. He’d been picking wild fruits along that same road when a gust of wind lifted the corner of the sedan’s curtain, revealing Jiang Chengxuan’s face for an instant.

“You’re certain it was him?” Jiang Zhinan paused to ask.

“Of course,” the beggar replied, nodding firmly. “Why would I lie to you?”

“Oh—right, I almost forgot to tell you something,” the beggar said after a long moment of silence. “Guess what kind of expression he had on his face? He was smiling.”

Three years later, when A’ning finally returned to the place she had once called home, her heart was heavy with a thousand emotions.

She remembered how Jiang Chengxuan had once told her that a rift had formed between the Emperor and the Jiang family’s patriarch. If she was to take the imperial examination under the Jiang family name, she would never be trusted, let alone promoted.

“What should I do then?” A’ning had asked. She remembered clearly—back then, they’d been playing chess together. Jiang Chengxuan’s moves had always been unpredictable, full of traps and turns she could never anticipate.

“Then we’ll have to make it elegant,” he said with a faint smile, placing a black piece on the board.

Once again, he won.

A’ning withdrew her hand from the chessboard, meeting his gaze with a deep, unreadable look.

“I’ll help you craft a new identity,” Jiang Chengxuan had said. “One without a trace of the past—ordinary, clean, and completely unremarkable.”

“I see.” A’ning nodded. She had thought his plan sound.

“You’re quick and clever,” he told her. “You’re bound to succeed. After that, your future depends on your own fate. No matter what happens, remember—keep climbing upward.

“If not for yourself, then for Yu’an’s sake. Wouldn’t that make her happy too?”

Following his advice, A’ning had taken the exams under the name Ying Wanyan and achieved the top rank of zhuangyuan. For three years, she had worked tirelessly to rise through the ranks, until she finally stood where she was now.

Of course, she owed much of her success to Jiang Chengxuan’s unseen assistance behind the scenes.

They had not met again since their parting. All these years, they had kept in touch only through letters.

Through his words, A’ning learned of Jiang Zhinan’s life—whether she was eating well, dressing warmly, taking care of herself and whether, perhaps, she still thought of her.

And somehow, three years had quietly gone by.

A month ago, A’ning had traveled to Huainan. For reasons unknown, she had suddenly lost all contact with Jiang Chengxuan, and no news had come from him since.

Uneasy, she had planned to visit the Jiang residence as soon as she returned.

Now, she was successful—wealthy, powerful, standing high above the world. Surely, her lady would be happy for her.

There had been instances throughout history where a woman took another woman as her spouse. She, too, wanted to follow that path—bring eight grand sedan chairs to fetch her lady home, cherish her for a lifetime, and never again be apart.

But fate, as always, struck before she could act. Before she even had the chance to return, tragedy had already fallen.

A’ning let out a quiet sigh and quickened her pace.

She had told no one of this journey, taking only a few trusted servants with her.

Her goal was to find Jiang Zhinan before Sun Jin did—to hide her away, keep her safe from harm and suffering.

With that thought, she looked toward the distance.

It was meant to be just a casual glance and yet, in that instant, her eyes found what her heart had long been searching for.

Even though Jiang Zhinan was now dressed in rags, her face smudged with dust and grime, A’ning recognized her at once.

She had searched for her for so long, and now, by pure chance, there she was.

Bitterness welled up in A’ning’s chest. Her heart clenched, as if cut open by an invisible blade.

“You’ve suffered so much,” she murmured, her voice trembling.

It hurt—so deeply it felt like her very soul had been carved apart.