"Exactly, keep cursing at me like that so I won’t pass out." Jiang Youli nodded in satisfaction and picked up the knife again to continue severing the tendons in his leg.
"Ah!" Jiang Xing screamed again, his face deathly pale.
But this time, he didn’t faint.
Jiang Youli was pleased. "Good. I only cut the tendons in your right leg. You should be grateful—you crushed my two medicinal herbs with your right foot. If you’d used both feet, you’d be losing a leg today."
She tossed the knife aside, then fed him a pill that would allow him to move freely again. Standing up, she admired her handiwork. "Try walking. Can you still use your right foot?"
Jiang Xing realized he could move again. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pushed himself up with his hands. The leg with the severed tendons was useless now, nothing but agony.
His heart froze.
His right leg was truly ruined!
How had things come to this?
Today was supposed to be about teaching his so-called sister a lesson, about standing up for Xiaohe. Instead, he’d lost a leg.
No!
He couldn’t accept this!
At this moment, Jiang Xing—once so proud—felt his dignity shatter completely. He clutched his head and sobbed.
"No… I don’t want to be a cripple…"
"How boring." Jiang Youli smirked at his breakdown.
She’d thought he had more backbone than this.
Just a few severed tendons, and he was already falling apart?
He had no idea what she’d endured these past twenty years in the outside world.
Too sheltered. Too weak.
As Jiang Youli turned to leave, a slow clap echoed behind her.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
She narrowed her eyes and glanced back—only to see someone unexpected.
"Qi Huan?" Jiang Youli frowned. "What are you doing here?"
The man before her, radiant as a celestial being, was none other than the one who’d come looking for her in the village that day.
Qi Huan let Cheng Jing push his wheelchair closer, smiling. "I came to revisit the place where my legs were ruined. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon such an entertaining scene. Truly riveting."
Jiang Youli tilted her head. "So you were kidnapped and crippled here too."
Qi Huan nodded. He brushed a hand over his legs, his lashes fluttering as if lost in memory. "Just like your dear brother here—awake the whole time while they broke them."
Jiang Youli wasn’t one for empty comfort.
These past twenty years, she’d survived countless life-or-death trials—not by coddling herself, but by growing stronger.
If she had a talent for something, she’d master it ruthlessly, perfecting it beyond anyone’s reach.
Her medical skills were proof.
In ancient medicine, she wouldn’t claim to be the best, but she doubted anyone could surpass her.
"Qi Huan, don’t worry. I promised I’d heal your legs, and I will."
Qi Huan looked up, meeting her clear, bright eyes. "I believe you."
Then, he pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket. Instead of letting Cheng Jing assist, he wheeled closer to Jiang Youli himself.
Under her puzzled gaze, he gently wiped the blood from her hands.
"Seems life in the Jiang family isn’t as easy as you made it sound."
Jiang Youli glanced down at his meticulous movements, her confusion melting into amusement. "Oh, it’s easy. See? I just handled one problem without breaking a sweat."
Qi Huan chuckled. He liked her more by the minute.
"And you? Why were your legs broken here? Care to share? I’ve got time to kill before heading back to the Jiangs." She stepped behind him and took over pushing his wheelchair.
Qi Huan’s dark lashes lowered, though his smile remained. "Of course. If you’re curious, I’ll tell you."
"Very curious. You’ll have to give me the full story later—help me get to know you better." As he finished cleaning her hands, she turned them palm-up, watching him.
His care was so thorough she couldn’t resist teasing him. "Did you ever do this for Jiang Yonghe?"
Qi Huan didn’t miss a beat. "No."
Cheng Jing, standing nearby, chimed in, "He really didn’t."
Jiang Youli smirked. "Even if he had, you wouldn’t necessarily know."
Cheng Jing faltered.
Back then, Qi Huan’s status meant he’d never stoop to such gestures for a woman.
Now, Cheng Jing couldn’t tell if his master’s actions stemmed from love at first sight—as he claimed—or gratitude for her promise to heal him.
But Qi Huan showed no guilt, answering with an easy smile. "You’re the first."
Once her hands were clean, he tossed the bloodied handkerchief aside and wheeled back to study her properly.
Jiang Youli held his gaze. "What an honor."
"The honor is mine." Qi Huan’s eyes flicked to Jiang Xing, still crumpled on the floor. "He’s the Jiang family’s eldest son. You just crippled him. How do you plan to explain that when you go back?"
Jiang Youli shrugged. "I was thinking of poisoning him mute and breaking his arms too. That’d keep him quiet."
Jiang Xing, hearing this, panicked. Dragging his ruined leg, he scrambled desperately toward the door.
He never imagined Jiang Youli already knew Qi Huan!
Qi Huan watched his pathetic crawl with amusement. "A fine plan. But if you’d rather not bother, I can handle him for you."
Jiang Youli waved a hand. "No need. This is family business. I’ll deal with it."
Qi Huan’s smile deepened. "Soon, I’ll be your fiancé. Your problems are mine."
Jiang Youli laughed. "You’re smooth. Hard to believe I’m really the first woman you’ve treated this well."
With that, she strode over to Jiang Xing, blocking his escape. She pulled out another vial and forced a pill down his throat.
He gagged, trying to spit it out—but it was too late.
The pill dissolved, its sickly-sweet medicinal taste spreading through his mouth.
"What did you give me?" Jiang Xing knew better than to hope it was anything benign.
