The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 30

For the first time, Jiang Zhinan truly saw Jiang Chengxuan for who he was. She listened as he spoke—more words than he’d ever shared with her before.

So, the so-called second brother, once thought to be pure as moonlight and untainted as a mountain breeze, was merely an illusion. Beneath that flawless exterior lay countless buried helplessness and unspoken griefs.

And yet, no matter his pain, what he had done was still wrong.

“Second Brother,” Jiang Zhinan hesitated, then finally spoke in a soft voice. “I truly feel for you. I really do feel sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

“But I think,” she continued, eyes glimmering faintly, “people can’t live forever in the shadows of the past. No matter what happens, we must learn to look ahead. Have you ever thought, if you could let go of all those unhappy memories and live only for yourself, wouldn’t that be a beautiful thing?”

“You can’t keep living inside hatred.”

Her words fell gently—like fine rain—each syllable tapping softly against Jiang Chengxuan’s heart.

He lifted his head to look at her. For a long time, he said nothing. The fierceness in his eyes slowly faded.

“What do you know?” he finally sneered, a mocking smile curling on his lips—whether at her or at himself, even he couldn’t tell. “Save those lofty words for someone else.”

“Second Brother!” Jiang Zhinan frowned.

“Enough!” Jiang Chengxuan suddenly rose, stepping toward her. Towering over her, he said coldly, “You’re just a naive little girl. No matter what you say, you won’t change my mind.”

“I’ve already done what I chose to do,” he said, his tone decisive. Then, without warning, he pulled out a dagger and lunged toward her.

Jiang Zhinan’s heart leapt. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking it was over but the pain never came.

When she opened her eyes again, the blade wasn’t pointed at her. Instead, Jiang Chengxuan had turned it and was slashing through the ropes that bound her.

He was freeing her.

“Second Brother?” Jiang Zhinan froze, completely taken aback. “You, why are you.”

“What?” Jiang Chengxuan raised an eyebrow, breaking off mid-sentence as a fit of coughing overtook him. When he finally caught his breath, he gave a bitter smile. “You’re wondering why I’m letting you go, aren’t you?”

Jiang Zhinan didn’t speak, only nodded slightly.

“You’re a’ning might be on her way here already,” he said, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Even though I’m dying, I still want to live a little longer.”

“What’s wrong with your body?” she asked softly. “Is there no cure?”

“There’s no medicine for it.” His reply was calm, almost peaceful. “Perhaps it’s what I owe them. Debts must be repaid sooner or later.”

Before she could ask anything more, he turned away. Facing the twin gravestones before him, he bowed deeply, then slowly walked off into the distance—his frail figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view.

Jiang Zhinan wanted to call out to him. The words rose to her lips but wouldn’t leave her throat. All she could do was watch as he went farther and farther away.

Just before he vanished from sight, he turned back and said clearly, “Yu’an, take care of yourself.”

“And don’t ever become someone like your second brother.”

Jiang Zhinan followed the mountain path downward, and near the foot of the hill she finally ran into A’ning.

A’ning’s expression was frantic, her face streaked with sweat and anxiety. She must have been searching for a long time.

“A’ning!” Jiang Zhinan waved her arm, shouting, “I’m here!”

Before the words had even faded, A’ning rushed forward and threw her arms around her.

A wave of warmth instantly filled Jiang Zhinan’s heart.

“You’re okay, right? Yu’an, you’re really okay?” A’ning murmured, her voice trembling and thick with tears. “Where did you go? I came home and you were gone—I couldn’t find you anywhere, I was so scared, I thought.”

“I’m fine,” Jiang Zhinan whispered gently, hugging her tighter.

“And you?” she asked after a moment. “How did things go?”

“It’s done.”

After saying that, A’ning fell silent for a long while before finally speaking again, voice low. “Yu’an, I wronged you. I did something that must have hurt you.”

“It’s all right.” Jiang Zhinan shook her head softly, stroking her hair. “Tell me about it. Since it’s over now, I want to hear everything.”

“Okay.” A’ning took a breath, then began to tell her everything—the truth about her connection with Sun Jin, all the secret plans she had made, Sun Jin’s own struggle and hesitation, and finally, what happened after she handed him the ledger.

“That ledger proves your innocence,” A’ning said, keeping her gaze lowered. “Sun Jin is an upright man. He would never harm the innocent. Because we’re friends, we agreed to stage everything.”

“We picked a death-row prisoner who resembled you, executed him instead, and announced to the public that you had been captured and punished. In truth, it was only a substitute who died.”

“The prison conditions were terrible anyway—many inmates didn’t survive long enough to reach execution. So, no one would notice the difference.”

She paused, her voice trembling. “But when it comes to Governor Jiang and Jiang Yujin, I really.”

There was nothing more she could do.

Even though A’ning didn’t finish the sentence, Jiang Zhinan understood.

They weren’t truly her family, but after living together for so long, bonds had inevitably formed. Still, whatever affection remained couldn’t change the truth—they had harmed countless innocents. Their punishment was inevitable.

Jiang Zhinan sighed, a trace of melancholy flickering in her eyes.

“It’s all right,” she murmured at last. Then she lifted her head and kissed A’ning’s forehead tenderly. “You’ve worked hard.”

“Let’s go home.” She smiled faintly as she said it.

For some reason, her heart felt unusually calm.

“Yu’an, you’re not angry with me?” A’ning raised her head in surprise, guilt melting into relief and joy.

“No,” Jiang Zhinan shook her head, squeezing her hand tighter.

How could she be angry—with someone who loved her so deeply, who risked everything for her?

She could only feel grateful and moved beyond words.

In the days that followed, A’ning busied herself once again.

Jiang Zhinan never asked what she was working on. She simply sat quietly beside her every day, brewing tea, watching her handle the endless details of life.

Time passed quietly.

Winter deepened, and snow once again began to fall outside the window.

That evening, A’ning returned home very late. Jiang Zhinan had been waiting at the window for a long time before finally seeing her come in, snowflakes still clinging to her lashes—yet her smile was bright, as though something wonderful had happened.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jiang Zhinan chuckled, taking a warm towel to wipe the snow from her hair.

“I resigned,” A’ning said unexpectedly. “These past few days I finished handling all the remaining affairs and then officially stepped down from my post as Imperial Censor.”

“From now on, I’m just an ordinary person. The affairs of the court will have nothing to do with me.” She smiled brightly. “From now on, I belong only to Yu’an.”

Her words warmed Jiang Zhinan’s heart.

She knew A’ning had done this for her—because even though things seemed settled, staying in the capital might still invite trouble later.

But A’ning had worked so hard for so long. To give it all up now—it didn’t seem fair.

“A’ning,” Jiang Zhinan began softly, wanting to persuade her to think it over again, but before she could finish, A’ning lowered her head and kissed her lips—her voice as tender as flowing water, as sweet as honey.

“To me, Yu’an is worth more than all the gold in the world.”

The words made Jiang Zhinan’s cheeks flush crimson.

Even the tips of her ears turned red.

In her mind, the system confirmed that A’ning’s words were sincere—the affection meter had leapt forward again, almost reaching full.

For A’ning, no amount of wealth or power could ever compare to the woman standing before her.

“From now on,” A’ning murmured, resting her forehead against hers, “I want us to live in seclusion together—find a quiet place by the mountains and rivers, plant a few fields, raise some cats and dogs. We’ll wander about during the day, and at night, we’ll lie side by side and watch the stars.”

“The world is so beautiful. I want Yu’an to see every part of it with me.”

“Mm.” Jiang Zhinan smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Still, should we bring some silver with us?”

After a moment of hesitation, Jiang Zhinan leaned closer to A’ning, lowering her voice with a slightly embarrassed expression. “Even if we’re going into seclusion, we’ll still need to buy some clothes and jewelry, and maybe a few household items and other pretty little things. We might even need.”

“Bring it all!” A’ning burst into laughter before she could finish, her eyes curving into crescents. “Didn’t I already tell Yu’an to prepare? There’s plenty of silver at home—just take it all with us if you want.”

“That’s good, then.” Jiang Zhinan exhaled in relief, smiling as she leaned softly against A’ning’s shoulder.

After a long pause, she suddenly murmured, “There’s one more thing we shouldn’t forget to bring.”

“What is it?” A’ning asked quickly.

“I saw it,” Jiang Zhinan said under her breath, lips curving into a teasing smile. “The wedding dress you secretly hid away.”

This time, it was A’ning’s turn to blush crimson.

They spent the entire night preparing, and at the first light of dawn, they boarded the carriage and finally left the capital behind.

It turned out A’ning had made arrangements long ago. The carriage rolled along a winding path and eventually stopped in front of a small wooden cabin.

Just as she had described, the cabin sat nestled between mountains and water. The scenery around was breathtaking—fresh air, blue skies, and a stillness that seemed to wash away all worldly troubles.

Jiang Zhinan loved it at first sight, her heart filled with uncontainable joy.

They were accompanied by a few attendants, who immediately began unpacking and setting things in order the moment they arrived, leaving the two of them with nothing to do.

And when people are idle, their thoughts always start to wander.

After a while of silence, A’ning slowly walked over to Jiang Zhinan’s side and shamelessly asked if she wanted to get married that very day.

“Today?” Jiang Zhinan blinked in surprise.

“Mhm, today.” A’ning nodded earnestly. “It’s lively with so many people around. Besides, we’ve just moved here—it’s the perfect day to celebrate, heaven and earth both in our favor.”

Jiang Zhinan couldn’t help but laugh. It actually made sense.

So, she stopped overthinking it, simply nodded, and said, “Alright then—today it is.”

A’ning’s grin widened in triumph. She had the attendants take out firecrackers, red lanterns, and long rolls of crimson silk.

Everything had been prepared in advance.

How much had this girl planned without telling her? Jiang Zhinan had no idea—only that the moment she agreed to marry A’ning, the latter’s “progress bar” had clearly reached one hundred percent.

The two of them changed into red wedding robes, stepped over a brazier, bowed to the heavens and the earth, and shared a cup of wine.

After that, naturally came the consummation of their marriage.

That night, A’ning was unusually gentle. She whispered Jiang Zhinan’s name again and again by her ear, every syllable carrying the weight of deep affection, as if each word was something hard-won and precious.

Jiang Zhinan responded to her softly, her arms wrapped tightly around A’ning’s shoulders, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

It truly hadn’t been easy for them to reach this moment.

And from this day forward, she would cherish it with all her heart.

Because the system’s “operator” had interfered, Jiang Zhinan’s departure from this world was postponed until the day both she and A’ning had lived out their full lives.

She thanked the system, and from then on, she and A’ning lived peacefully together—day after day as if soaked in honey.

Time passed—one day after another, one year after the next—until, at last, A’ning was the first to leave this world.

“Our fate in this lifetime ends here, I suppose,” A’ning said weakly, her aged voice still steady. Despite her frailty, she gripped Jiang Zhinan’s hand tightly. “But, we’ll meet again in the next life, won’t we?”

“Yes,” Jiang Zhinan whispered, lowering her head to press a kiss on A’ning’s forehead.

When she lifted her gaze again, A’ning had already stopped breathing.

Jiang Zhinan’s heart gave a violent tremor, but she held back her tears. She only tightened her grip on A’ning’s hand, afraid that if A’ning could still somehow see her, she would worry.

“Are you ready to leave?” the system asked softly, understanding all too well the pain of parting.

“Not yet,” Jiang Zhinan replied, her voice low.

She stayed with A’ning until the sunrise of the next day, and only then, dragging her frail body, did she bury her beloved beneath the quiet earth.

“Let’s go,” she finally said, her voice laced with reluctance.

“Alright,” the system answered gently. It asked her to close her eyes, then guided her through the transition into the next world.

Before her appeared a door—once she opened it, she would step into a new life.

“You’ve done very well on this mission,” said the system, summarizing in her mind. “Here’s your reward.”

As the words fell, a small token appeared in Jiang Zhinan’s palm.

“Alright,” she murmured, staring at the token, her mind stirring with unspoken emotion.

“I’ll store your memories for you,” the system sighed softly. “It’ll help you complete future missions more efficiently. When it’s all over, I’ll return everything to you.”

Jiang Zhinan was silent for a long time.

“Alright,” she finally agreed after what felt like an eternity of thought.

The moment she spoke, her memories of A’ning began to fade—until only a single name remained.

“Go on,” said the system. “Open the door.”

Jiang Zhinan nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Beyond it lay a lavishly decorated room—most likely a hotel suite. The air carried a faint fragrance, and a large canopy bed stood in the center.

Almost immediately, dizziness swept over her. Her head felt heavy, as though she’d drunk several bottles of strong liquor.

At the bedside hung sheer curtains. Jiang Zhinan, feeling light-headed, decided to lie down for a moment—just to recover before sorting things out.

That was the plan.

But when she pulled the curtain aside, she froze—because there was already someone lying on the bed.

The woman was stunningly beautiful: long lashes, fair skin, soft rosy lips, and a graceful figure like a celestial being drawn from a painting.

How could someone like that be sleeping here?

Jiang Zhinan frowned, trying to piece together the fragments in her muddled mind—and then it struck her.

Her thoughts were chaotic, full of noise and flashes of pounding music and shrill laughter.

She gritted her teeth, filtering out the useless clutter until only the relevant information remained. Finally, she pieced together the story.

The sleeping woman’s name was Su Jin, a freelance singer who often performed in bars for a living.

The body Jiang Zhinan currently occupied—its original owner, Zhou Ying—had admired Su Jin for a long time but never dared to approach her properly.

Eventually, frustration led Zhou Ying down a dark path. Using her power as a company president, she pulled some strings, had Su Jin drugged and brought to this very room.

As for what she intended to do—there was no need to elaborate.

Zhou Ying herself had also been drinking. After a bath, dizzy and disoriented, she’d planned to take some sobering medicine but before she could, Jiang Zhinan had arrived in her place.

“How shameless,” Jiang Zhinan muttered, frowning deeply as she tried to steady herself and look for medicine.

Clothes were scattered on the floor—Zhou Ying’s. Jiang Zhinan stepped carefully over them, but after only a few steps, she tripped over something unseen and fell forward with a thud—straight onto the bed beside Su Jin.

And then, she found she couldn’t get up again.

I’m doomed, Jiang Zhinan thought helplessly, as that single, dreadful realization echoed through her spinning mind.