The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 9

A’Ning knelt for as long as Jiang Zhinan had stood by the window, watching her.

It was nearly dawn. The sky had begun to pale, and the cold outside cut sharply, with piercing gusts of wind sweeping through at intervals.

At such a temperature, even a short time outside would chill someone to the bone.

And A’Ning was dressed so lightly, her frame so delicate—surely this ordeal was unbearable for her.

Jiang Zhinan sighed. After hesitating for a moment, she finally opened the door and hurried over to A’Ning, stopping before her. In a low voice, she asked, “Do you understand what you did wrong?”

A’Ning said nothing. She pressed her lips together and kept her posture perfectly upright, still kneeling.

Seeing her silence, Jiang Zhinan repeated the question, firmer this time: “I’m asking you—do you understand what you did wrong?”

A’Ning still did not answer.

Jiang Zhinan didn’t know what was going through her mind.

Frowning, she reached out and gently lifted A’Ning’s chin.

What she saw next made her heart skip a beat— A’Ning was crying.

A sharp pang of sorrow surged through Jiang Zhinan. In the more than a month they had been together, she had never seen A’Ning cry. Usually, she was always smiling, following behind Jiang Zhinan, calling softly, “Miss.”

But now, tears glistened and slid silently down her cheeks. Her lips and face were pale, yet her eyes and the tip of her nose were red, as if she had endured immense suffering.

She looked just like a little puppy abandoned by its master.

“Don’t cry,” Jiang Zhinan whispered. She fetched a handkerchief and gently wiped away A’Ning’s tears. “Get up. Come back with me.”

“I’m sorry, Miss.” A’Ning shook her head, still kneeling, refusing to move. “I caused you trouble.”

Her voice was soft, cautious, and pitiful, making Jiang Zhinan’s chest ache.

“Just be more careful next time,” Jiang Zhinan finally said, her heart already softened.

She sighed and reached for A’Ning’s hand—but then noticed something clenched tightly in her right hand, never opened.

Looking closer, Jiang Zhinan saw nearly dried streaks of blood.

“What happened?” she exclaimed, prying open A’Ning’s fingers. Inside was the hairpin, shattered into several pieces.

At that moment, everything clicked into place.

A’Ning had a fever.

Once Jiang Zhinan helped her back into the room, she felt the scorching heat of her forehead.

“Go lie down for a while,” she said with a sigh, instructing A’Ning to rest while she hurried to fetch water and a towel.

By the time she returned, A’Ning had already fallen into a deep sleep.

“Hmm.” Jiang Zhinan shook her head, slowing her steps. She placed the damp towel gently on A’Ning’s forehead and tucked the covers around her.

“Sleep well,” she murmured, eyes soft with tenderness.

A’Ning didn’t respond, only her long lashes fluttering slightly, betraying a hint of unease.

Seeing this, Jiang Zhinan got up, retrieved the blanket, and draped it over her.

By the time she finished, the sky had fully brightened. A maid knocked at the door, asking what Jiang Zhinan wanted for breakfast.

“Shh.” Jiang Zhinan opened the door and pressed a finger to her lips. “Quiet, A’Ning just fell asleep.”

“Oh, oh,” the maid whispered, a look of confusion in her eyes.

“Just prepare something simple. I don’t have much of an appetite,” Jiang Zhinan said. “After breakfast, send Dong Xue to my room—I need to talk to her.”

“Understood,” the maid said, quietly leaving.

Behind the closed door, everything inside was private again, nothing to do with anyone else.

Walking back, the maid couldn’t help but wonder. What was A’Ning’s relationship with Miss? How could she be forgiven for starting a fire that nearly burned the house down, and now lie peacefully in Miss’s bed?

And she wasn’t even really asleep, was she? When the maid had spoken to Miss earlier, A’Ning’s eyes were open, her lips curling in a faint, meaningful smile.

The maid didn’t dare tell Miss about this. She still clearly remembered how close Dong Xue had come to being burned last night; if she said the wrong thing and A’Ning heard, she’d be the next one in trouble.

Shaking her head, the maid hurried away.

After breakfast, the maids brought Dong Xue to Jiang Zhinan.

Her expression was markedly different from usual—she looked terrified, trembling all over.

“Do you know why I called you here?” Jiang Zhinan asked, standing and approaching her, looking down at her.

“No, Miss.” Dong Xue shook her head, intending to lie. But her face changed the moment she saw A’Ning lying on the bed.

Her words caught in her throat, finally coming out as: “I’m sorry, Miss. It’s all my fault—please spare me!”

“What did you do wrong?” Jiang Zhinan asked. “Tell me everything in detail.”

“Understood.” Dong Xue replied, starting from the incident when A’Ning beat her, recounting everything up to the moment she had sneaked into A’Ning’s room, smashed her hairpin, and poured out all her jealousy and misdeeds.

Jiang Zhinan listened for a long while and couldn’t help but think that this girl was quite dramatic. Even if she truly wanted to get back at A’Ning, why smash just anything when she had to break that hairpin?

But now that the girl was pitifully blind in one eye, it wouldn’t be reasonable for Jiang Zhinan to punish her too harshly.

In the end, she decided to dock three months’ wages as a warning, which also served as a message to the others: don’t stir up trouble for no reason.

And with that, the matter was considered closed.

A’Ning ran a fever for several days, and after recovering, her body was noticeably weaker and less robust than before.

Seeing this, Jiang Zhinan intentionally shortened her teaching sessions, encouraging A’Ning to spend more time outdoors. That way, her body would naturally regain strength more quickly.

A’Ning agreed without hesitation, and as requested, she would take a walk after each lesson, wandering the grounds.

Truthfully, even if Jiang Zhinan hadn’t required it, she would have done the same.

She wanted to see what kind of results her own fire had brought.

After all, she had only recently arrived. In terms of seniority and connections, she couldn’t compare to the long-standing members of the household. Even if others didn’t openly show it, A’Ning could feel it—their exclusionary attitude.

Why did Dong Xue dislike her? Because she was too close to Miss Jiang, naturally drawing jealousy.

At first, she had intended to deal with Dong Xue quietly. The risk was small, and she was confident she could escape without anyone blaming her for Dong Xue’s downfall.

But, what about later?

How many other “Dong Xues” might rise up to cause trouble over time? There was no way to know.

Rather than risk it, she decided to cut off the source from the beginning and let everyone understand: anger her, and the consequences would be unimaginable.

Miss Jiang could only have her by her side.

With that thought, A’Ning smiled and stepped into the kitchen. She stood beside the cook, watching her prepare lunch with her head bowed, eyes sparkling with delight.

“Shoo, shoo!” At first, the cook didn’t even realize who it was. Then, noticing her, she snapped sharply, “Who is it? Can’t you see I’m busy? Don’t come disturbing me for no reason!”

“I want to learn cooking from you, to improve my skills,” A’Ning said softly. She didn’t move away, but leaned in a little closer.

The cook frowned but then looked up. When she realized it was A’Ning, a hesitant smile appeared on her face, and she said repeatedly, “Sure, sure, I’ll teach you. I’m not that busy right now anyway.”

Her words carried a faint undertone of fear.

A’Ning lifted the corners of her mouth and asked with a smile, “What are you making?”

“Steamed buns,” the cook replied quickly.

“Then I’ll learn this from you today,” A’Ning said, nodding, before focusing on washing her hands carefully. She then said politely, “Thank you for helping me.”

“No need, no need,” the cook replied, handing her a piece of dough to hold.

“You suddenly decided you want to learn cooking?” she asked cautiously, her every gesture careful and tentative.

“I want to make it for Miss Jiang,” A’Ning said, her eyes bright. “I tried once before, but she didn’t seem to like it very much.”

She remembered seeing Jiang Zhinan spill the soup into a flower pot that time, the vegetable leaves still clinging to the roots.

From then on, she realized her cooking was actually terrible. Miss Jiang had just forced herself to say it was good to spare her feelings.

How gentle she was.

A’Ning’s lips curved into a smile.

It was these little acts of kindness that made her, who had been ready to take revenge on Dong Xue, take a gamble instead.

A gamble on whether Miss Jiang would come to her aid.

And now, it was clear—she had won that gamble.

Honestly, even if Miss Jiang hadn’t saved her back then, A’Ning wouldn’t have harbored a single complaint. The path she had chosen was hers alone; life or death depended entirely on her own fate.

Back then, A’Ning had considered so many possibilities and run countless scenarios in her mind. She had thought that no matter what happened afterward, she would remain calm.

But she couldn’t deny it—in the moment she saw Jiang Zhinan kneel to save her, a few silent tears still slipped down her cheeks.

She had to grow stronger quickly, so that the Miss who was willing to set aside her dignity to save her could live a life of happiness and joy.

A happiness and joy brought by her.