The Paranoid Male Lead’s "White Moonlight" Has Reborn - Chapter 13

Jiang Chaoyun was momentarily choked up, not knowing what to say.

However, he quickly recovered and raised his voice slightly. “Mind… mind your own business! Who told you I wanted to be a ‘virtuous young man’ anyway?”

Han Jiangmu reached out toward him. Jiang Chaoyun instinctively tried to dodge backward, but Han Jiangmu’s arms were long; he touched Jiang Chaoyun with ease.

His fingers brushed across Jiang Chaoyun’s smooth forehead and finally settled on his hair. Jiang Chaoyun asked nervously, “What are you doing now?”

Han Jiangmu removed a piece of cotton lint from his hair. “Other guards might not be as attentive as I am, Young Master.”

As he spoke, his voice remained somewhat cold, and his entire being radiated a sense of absolute authority. Jiang Chaoyun felt a bit suffocated by the pressure. For the first time, he realized there truly was a difference between imperial royalty and commoners; a common person wouldn’t possess such an aura of majesty, nor would they make it hard to breathe just by standing there.

Commoners wouldn’t be like him—even when he said nothing, he made one unable to refuse from the bottom of their heart, wanting only to submit.

Jiang Chaoyun suddenly wondered if he had made a mistake. Perhaps he shouldn’t have gotten so close to him in the first place. He clearly didn’t have much time left; wouldn’t it be better to use that time to fulfill his own regrets? Why did he have to thrust himself toward Han Jiangmu?

For the first time, Jiang Chaoyun felt regret. He wasn’t even very good at talking; how could he possibly play the villain?

But he couldn’t dwell on it further. Han Jiangmu sensed his eyes flickering as if he were lost in thought and called out softly, “Young Master.”

Jiang Chaoyun snapped back and said a bit dejectedly, “I’m going to sleep.”

Han Jiangmu watched him for a long while before stepping back. “Sleep then, Young Master.”

Jiang Chaoyun lay down, and Han Jiangmu stood by the bed, even reaching out to tuck in the corners of the quilt. Jiang Chaoyun pulled the blanket up to cover his face and said muffledly, “Blow out the candle.”

Han Jiangmu complied, and the room instantly fell into darkness. He stood by the bed for a moment and whispered, “Young Master?”

Jiang Chaoyun always slept very deeply, so naturally, there was no response. Han Jiangmu sat by the bed and took his pulse. After taking the medicine prescribed by Ma Wenfeng, Jiang Chaoyun’s pulse was indeed steadier than before. After checking, he put the hand back under the covers, meticulously tucked him in again, and retreated to the chaise longue to rest with his eyes closed.

A while later, the Old Madam of the Jiang family was approaching her sixtieth birthday, and the household began preparations in advance.

As the mistress of the house, Jiang Lin-shi was busy for quite some time, barely finding a moment to accompany Jiang Chaoyun. One day, after settling all the arrangements, she came over to have a meal with him. She watched Physician Ma take his pulse and, hearing good news, was delighted, rewarding the doctor with gold and silver without a second thought. This time, Ma Wenfeng accepted everything.

Jiang Chaoyun watched the joy on his mother’s face and smiled along, but he didn’t truly have many thoughts on the matter. Thinking too much would only lead to self-pity, so he simply didn’t think about it. Anyway, he still had over a year of life left—it was still early!

Jiang Lin-shi spoke to him about Jiang Yulong. “Didn’t Yulong knock out a front tooth? He went to get a dental implant recently. Guess what kind of tooth he got?”

Jiang Chaoyun shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Jiang Lin-shi revealed a faint smile. “Yulong had a silver tooth put in. He’s covered in gold and silver now; he’ll have good fortune in the future.”

Jiang Chaoyun couldn’t imagine what a silver tooth would look like, so he didn’t say anything. Jiang Lin-shi then opened a box and said, “When the Old Madam has her grand birthday, you will send this over.”

Jiang Chaoyun looked down; it was a jade statue of Guanyin. The statue was carved from a single piece of jade, crystal clear and radiating a divine light as if it were a real goddess. It was a rare and precious treasure. Jiang Chaoyun remembered it was part of Jiang Lin-shi’s dowry.

He remembered because several years ago, his father wanted this statue to give to his grandmother as a birthday gift, but Jiang Lin-shi had refused.

He was surprised. “Mother, isn’t this your dowry?”

Jiang Lin-shi smiled and said, “My things are all meant for you. There’s no use in me keeping them.”

Jiang Chaoyun whispered, “But it’s too valuable.”

It wasn’t that Jiang Chaoyun was stingy—the Jiang family was already incredibly wealthy—but while giving anything else was fine, giving away his mother’s dowry was a bit much. Jiang Chaoyun was reluctant and said seriously, “I will prepare a proper gift for Grandmother myself. Please don’t worry about it, Mother.”

Jiang Lin-shi hesitated, then smiled. “Alright.” She paused, then added, “Your grandmother has everything already; an ordinary gift might not make her happy.”

Jiang Chaoyun said, “It’s Grandmother’s birthday; she’ll be happy with whatever her children and grandchildren give. Don’t worry, Mother, we’re all one family; there’s no need to be so cautious.”

Jiang Lin-shi just smiled and didn’t say anything more.

After his mother left, Jiang Chaoyun pondered what to give. His grandmother had a birthday every year—a small celebration annually, a medium one every three years, and a grand one every ten. He was no stranger to this.

The gifts received every year were countless, and as his mother said, she had seen everything and wouldn’t treasure ordinary things. But a birthday was about happiness; as long as the children showed their heart, there was no need to go to great lengths to send some extravagant gift.

Jiang Chaoyun thought for a while and decided on what to send: he would hand-copy a volume of Buddhist scriptures for her.

He decided to start immediately. Since there was still time before the birthday, he had plenty of time. But his stamina was poor. Usually, just talking to Han Jiangmu for a while—becoming a bit emotional or raising his voice—would quickly make him feel fatigued, let alone copying scriptures.

Bixin tried to persuade him against it but failed. She harbored some complaints in her heart but didn’t dare say them to Jiang Chaoyun, so she hid in the kitchen to gossip with Mao’er and the kitchen maids. “Madam came earlier to bring a gift for the Young Master to give; guess what she brought?”

Mao’er was still a young boy, but because he served in Jiang Chaoyun’s courtyard, he had endless good food and was quite greedy. He even got to drink some of the Young Master’s tonic soups, so he was much taller than his peers. However, his voice was still a crisp, childish treble. “Sister Bixin, don’t keep us in suspense, just tell us.”

Bixin didn’t actually plan to keep them waiting. “Madam brought over that jade Guanyin statue! The Old Madam wanted it years ago, and Master even opened Madam’s storehouse without permission back then to try and take it!”

The cook was quite old, a veteran of the Jiang mansion. She had been a young maid in the main kitchen and knew many secrets. Hearing Bixin, she sneered. “If you ask me, it’s just because Madam has a good temper. Every year on her birthday, that Old Madam hints to the Master that she wants this or that, wishing she could empty out Madam’s dowry. Anyone with a bit of temper wouldn’t indulge her.”

Bixin couldn’t stand hearing this and said, “What do you know? Madam does it for the Young Master. With his health, he can’t handle being upset. If Madam isn’t nicer to the Old Madam, and the Old Madam gives the Young Master a hard time, he’ll feel bad, and that’s not good for his health.”

The cook understood this, of course. She cracked a melon seed and muttered, “I was just saying.”

Bixin added, “The Young Master refused, of course; he feels for Madam too. So many people are eyeing Madam’s dowry—the second branch, the third branch, even the Old Madam. Last time Madam wore a hairpin from the capital, the second branch stared at it intently, hinting they wanted it.”

The cook spat. “Shameless. Having no property of their own, they stare at things in other people’s rooms.”

“Exactly,” Bixin said. “The Young Master knows nothing; he thinks Young Master Jin and Young Master Long are good people, not knowing what they say about him behind his back.”

Bixin wasn’t very old, but she had served Jiang Chaoyun since she was seven or eight. Because she was efficient and well-spoken, she had good relations with other maids and knew too much. Everyone kept the truth from Jiang Chaoyun so he wouldn’t worry, but the fact was that because of his sickly body, even the Old Madam and the Old Master didn’t like him. It was Jiang Lin-shi who managed everything so he never felt any discomfort.

This was where Bixin’s grievance lay. “And even so, the Young Master insisted on hand-copying scriptures for the Old Madam.”

The cook stopped cracking seeds. “You girl, Bixin! We told you to learn to write back then and you didn’t. Now you can’t even help the Young Master copy a scripture—what use are you!”

Bixin was choked. “Could what I learn compare to the Young Master’s? If the Old Madam saw it, wouldn’t she give him a cold shoulder?”

The cook said, “The Old Madam truly isn’t worth his effort to copy scriptures. If he gets worn out, it’s really not worth the loss.”

Bixin felt the same way and stood up to go back to Jiang Chaoyun’s room to try and dissuade him again. However, as soon as she opened the door, she found someone leaning against the wall. She was startled, and turning around, she saw it was Guard Han.

She stammered, “Guard Han, how did you get in?” As she spoke, she looked toward the main gate—it was closed.

Han Jiangmu looked at her coldly. “The Young Master is in the room, and you’ve run here to slack off?”

Bixin: “…” She said guiltily, “I understand, I’ll go serve the Young Master immediately.”

Han Jiangmu said coldly, “If there’s a next time, you won’t need to serve him anymore.”

Bixin: “…” Bixin: “?”

She wanted to shake this guard by the shoulders and tell him: You are just a guard, why can you use the tone of the master of the house to talk to me??

But Bixin stole a glance at Han Jiangmu’s frost-cold face, and for a moment she was speechless. She gave a vague smile and agreed. “…Yes.”

Han Jiangmu turned and left. Bixin tried to follow, but Han Jiangmu stopped and looked back. “You aren’t needed to serve right now. Withdraw.”

Bixin: “…”

She felt as if she were standing in a mist; she couldn’t even tell if the figure before her was a person or a ghost anymore.