Jiang Lijin couldn’t be bothered to find a high-collar shirt to cover up. She casually threw on a loose trench coat, pulled open the door, and headed downstairs.
In the living room downstairs, Tianyan sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, flipping a coin, while Tianque sat silently nearby.
At the sound of footsteps, both of them looked up at the same time.
Tianyan’s gaze lingered on Jiang Lijin’s collar for two seconds. The coin spun on his fingertip before he caught it with a quick snap.
He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with undisguised teasing. “Boss, the mosquitoes on the capital planet sure are vicious. That bite—pretty big one.”
Jiang Lijin walked over and sat down on the single sofa, pouring herself a glass of water.
She didn’t even bother pulling her collar closed, utterly at ease. “Yeah, I’m wondering the same thing. We’re in the interstellar era, Grevin’s running human experiments, and they still haven’t wiped out mosquitoes as a species.”
Tianyan choked on her unflappable attitude for a second, then burst into a snort of laughter.
Tianque remained silent, his eyes locked onto those red marks. A faint blush crept up to the tips of his ears, yet beneath that, clearly churning emotions of extreme displeasure surged.
“Alright, let’s get to business.” Jiang Lijin finished her water and set the glass down. “The capital planet is a mess right now. You two are in sensitive positions, so stay in the villa as much as possible. If anyone tries to sneak in, kill them outright. This is private property under the Yunlan Group now, so it counts as self-defense.”
Tianyan dropped his playful grin. “Leave it to me.”
“But boss,” he added, “have you ever thought about giving us brothers a little bonus, too? Work without rewards—it’s the kind of thing that kills employee motivation.”
Tianque whipped his head around and glared at his older brother, but his perked-up ears betrayed his own interest.
By now, Jiang Lijin had grown used to Tianyan’s shamelessness. She shot him a glance. “We’ll see, if you perform well.”
Hurried footsteps came from the staircase.
Tinia had changed into a low-key black outfit. His blond hair was casually tousled, and he bounded over to Jiang Lijin, slipping an arm around her waist with practiced ease. “Sister, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Tianyan watched Tinia cling to her like glue, practically melding into her side, and clicked his tongue.
Tinia didn’t spare him a single glance. He took Jiang Lijin’s hand and pulled her out the door.
The hovercar didn’t display the exclusive emblem of the Yunlan Group. Instead, it was fitted with the most ordinary civilian shell, gliding silently into the underground parking garage of the Central Hospital.
Chiron had arranged the route in advance.
With the old emperor critically ill, the hospital’s perimeter had long been swarmed by informants from every faction.
The private elevator went straight to the top-floor intensive care unit. As the doors slid open, the sharp scent of disinfectant hit them.
At the end of the hallway stood Chiron in a white coat, his posture straight and tall.
He turned at the sound of movement.
Their eyes met.
Chiron didn’t move.
His black hair was slightly disheveled, and dark circles under his eyes showed the toll of sleepless nights. When his gray pupils locked onto Jiang Lijin standing there, his gaze tightened—filled with complex emotions.
Jiang Lijin read everything in his eyes and stepped forward.
“I’m back,” she said.
Chiron’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.
He lifted his hand, as if to touch her face, but his gaze inevitably fell on the open collar of her coat.
Those red marks stood out starkly against her pale skin.
Chiron’s hand froze in midair, never landing.
A sharp pang of bitterness and jealousy flickered through his gray eyes, quickly suppressed.
He lowered his hand and instead gently adjusted the collar of her trench coat, his movements soft, covering the marks completely.
“Welcome back.” Chiron’s voice was hoarse, yet still warm and restrained. “Tinia, wait outside. I’ll take her in.”
Tinia pouted reluctantly, but he understood the gravity of the moment and grunted in acknowledgment.
The isolation door opened, and Jiang Lijin followed Chiron into the ward.
On the hospital bed, the old emperor was nothing more than skin and bones.
This female monarch, who had ruled the empire for decades, now relied on a room full of machines to sustain her faint breath.
She had once kept the cabinet and aristocracy under her iron fist for half a lifetime.
Now that she had fallen, those repressed ambitions were spreading like poisonous weeds.
Hearing footsteps, the old emperor forced her eyes open.
Her clouded pupils flared with a startling brightness when she saw Jiang Lijin.
She stretched out a trembling hand.
Jiang Lijin stepped forward and took that withered, bony hand.
The old emperor opened her mouth, but only broken, raspy sounds escaped her throat—she couldn’t form a complete sentence.
Yet her grip on Jiang Lijin was unyielding. She held on tightly, unwilling to let go.
A side door opened. A middle-aged woman in plain clothes walked in, leading a small boy by the hand.
The boy was only six years old, with red hair and golden eyes, dressed in a well-tailored prince’s uniform.
When he saw Jiang Lijin, the Third Prince pulled free from the woman’s grip, trotted over on his short legs, and wrapped his arms around Jiang Lijin’s thigh.
“Sister.” The boy looked up, his voice soft and sweet. “My name is Rowan.”
Jiang Lijin wasn’t surprised.
She figured that a child born into royalty, even at six, would already know how to read people. Hugging her like this now—was it survival instinct? In the royal family, kids learned to gauge expressions before they even learned to walk.
But when she looked down, she paused.
This child’s eyes were clear and pure. When he gazed at her, there was nothing but complete trust and attachment.
The middle-aged woman stepped forward and bowed deeply to Jiang Lijin.
“Ms. Jiang, Her Majesty has already briefed His Highness,” she said, her voice quiet and choked with suppressed sobs. “Her Majesty told the Third Prince that you would be the one to care for him from now on—our… benefactor.”
“His Highness has been very obedient. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”
Jiang Lijin looked at the old emperor on the bed, a wave of inexpressible shock washing over her.
The old emperor had been backed into a corner by the cabinet and the aristocracy, unable even to save her own life.
But she had not sown seeds of hatred in her six-year-old son’s heart. She hadn’t told Rowan about the filthy political scheming. She hadn’t burdened him with the weight of revenge.
She only told him to trust this woman before him.
A mother’s love plans far ahead.
With her last shred of strength, the old emperor had paved the cleanest path for her son.
Jiang Lijin looked down at the little thing clinging to her leg.
She had originally planned to use the old emperor’s influence to gain a foothold on the capital planet and clean out those old foxes in the cabinet.
But now, she changed her mind.
She tightened her grip on the old emperor’s hand, her tone calm. “Don’t worry. He will live—and live well.”
The wrinkles around the old emperor’s eyes relaxed. A single tear rolled down her cheek and soaked into the pillow.
Her hold on Jiang Lijin’s hand slowly slackened. The heart rate monitor’s line began to flatten.
Chiron stepped forward, glanced at the instruments, and said quietly, “She doesn’t have much time left. The cabinet members are already downstairs. They could storm up here any moment.”
“Let them come.”
Jiang Lijin bent down and picked up Rowan.
The little boy showed no fear. He rested his head obediently on her shoulder, his small hands clutching her trench coat, leaving a tiny wrinkle in the fabric.
His face pressed against Jiang Lijin’s shoulder, he turned his head slightly to glance at his mother lying in the hospital bed.
He wasn’t crying, but his small hands were gripping even tighter.
Jiang Lijin turned to look at Chiron. “Notify Baal. The first fleet can move. And tell those people down there—if they want to see the will, they can come up here and get it themselves.”
