Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Handsome Men of Jiankang

Jiang Lan glanced at the young man before her. His brows were heroic, his features striking—a face sure to win the hearts of many young ladies. No wonder that woman had been so aggressive in her pursuit.

“This matter need not trouble you too much, Captain Mu. There’s no need to be overly harsh or persistent. Let things take their course.”

Upon hearing this, Mu Changfeng frowned, thinking Jiang Lan was shirking responsibility out of fear of offending others, and was even too weak to stand up for his own sister and demand justice.

“If you wish to smooth things over, Young Lord, I’m afraid you’ll only embolden the wicked.”

Jiang Lan glanced at Mu Changfeng again, realizing he had misunderstood her intentions.

“Don’t meddle in things that don’t concern you. You’ll only bring trouble upon yourself.”

Mu Changfeng’s chest filled with indignation. “Hmph!” he snorted, then spurred his horse and galloped off in a huff, leaving Jiang Lan to shake her head in bemusement as she climbed into the carriage and took up the reins herself.

“Young Lord, is it true you were attacked in broad daylight on the street?”

“Yes.” Jiang Lan, still driving, turned at the stammering voice and saw the imperial physician’s hands trembling. Clearly, he had heard of the previous driver’s sudden death.

“Physician Meng, don’t worry. We’re on our guard now—they won’t try again.”

The old man, beard and hair white as snow, nodded anxiously. Jiang Lan called for Xichi, “Help Physician Meng inside and see that he’s well cared for.”

Physician Meng expressed his gratitude repeatedly.

Though Mu Changfeng had ridden ahead, he left a detachment of the city guard to escort them. Several carriages followed: one for Uncle Zhong and the attendants, the rest for the servants.

Uncertain if danger truly lay behind them, Jiang Lan took out a protective talisman and affixed it to her golden fan. She drew out her jade-bone fan from her robes, unwrapped the cloth from her right hand, clenched her fist, and let drops of faintly golden blood seep into the translucent jade surface, which glimmered with an invisible pinkish light.

She handed the fan into the carriage. “Jiang Si, keep this safe for me. Unless I come for it, no one else is to take it.”

Jiang Si was momentarily stunned—Chunming had wanted to help, but Jiang Si quickly stopped her, bracing herself against the pain to take a few steps forward and receive the fan.

“Brother, I understand.”

She cradled the fan in her arms, retreating into the corner.

The magistrate’s residence was not close to the Duke of Wei’s manor. They passed through several streets and made many turns before finally arriving.

Jiang Lan first helped the elderly physician out, instructing Xichi to look after him well.

Then Jiang Lan returned to the carriage. Jiang Si was huddled in the corner, lips pale, forehead beaded with cold sweat.

Jiang Lan wrapped her in a cloak. “From now on, whenever you go out, take this with you.”

Jiang Si nodded. Though she didn’t know why her brother insisted on the jade-bone fan, she had absolute faith in him.

Jiang Lan gathered Jiang Si into her arms, while Chunming came over once more to tighten her mistress’s cloak.

Chunming followed Jiang Lan back to Siyuan Pavilion.

“The princess’s injuries are not serious. With proper medicine and rest for half a month, she’ll recover. But she was badly frightened—she’ll need her family’s company.”

Jiang Lan nodded. “Several others in the household were also hurt. We’ve summoned physicians, but as you are the most renowned in this field, Physician Meng, may I trouble you to examine them as well? We’ll provide only the best medicines—please don’t stand on ceremony.”

“Young Lord, you are truly compassionate.”

Jiang Lan said nothing further, only called Xichi to lead the elderly physician away.

“Nuannuan, Nuannuan, Nuannuan…”

The voice belonged to a man, who looked to be in his twenties, yet with a practiced eye for bone structure, Jiang Lan saw he was in fact much older—an uncle.

He was nearly seven feet tall, slender, dressed in a purple robe embroidered with green patterns, over which he wore a creamy white jacket of bright silk. The hem of his robe was tucked into a jade belt around his waist, and he wore white deerskin boots suited for riding. His jet-black hair was arranged in a neat topknot, secured by an exquisite white jade coronet, from which pale green silk ribbons hung, tied in a trailing knot beneath his chin.

The maidservants along the path called out, “Third Master.”

This must be Uncle Jiang Yu, who had topped the capital’s list of most handsome men for nearly twenty years, famed as the finest beauty in Jiankang.

No wonder Sister Si was so lovely—there was a cold, piercing grace to her gaze that could set hearts trembling. If even Jiang Lan, a woman, felt this, then men could hardly be blamed for their infatuation.

It was no exaggeration—all the credit for such beauty lay with Third Uncle.

Jiang Yu’s steps were unsteady, his jade coronet askew, a picture of both disarray and inexplicable allure.

Many maids peered out from the courtyard, clutching their handkerchiefs in sympathy.

Indeed, when an older man decided to be charming, the younger generation could hardly compete.

Jiang Lan had been in the rear courtyard long enough, and though she held the title of Young Lord, not a single beauty among the maids had ever tried to seduce her. When she first arrived, she even took precautions at night, yet not a single soul, not even a female fly, appeared.

Comparisons could drive one mad with envy.

“Uncle.”

Jiang Yu grabbed Jiang Lan’s hand and looked her over. “Good, good, you’re unharmed. Where’s Nuannuan?”

“She’s inside. The physician has seen her—her injuries aren’t serious, just frightened. Uncle, if you’re free, you should keep her company more often.”

Jiang Yu nodded, but, gazing at the inscription above the door, hesitated and drew back his foot.

“If she’s well, I’ll take my leave.”

“Uncle—”

Jiang Yu waved a hand. “If you have time, keep Nuannuan company.”

“Yes.”

Jiang Lan dared not press further; matters between father and daughter were not hers to meddle in. Jiang Si was the only true family the original Jiang Lan had left in this world, a sister she cherished from the depths of her heart.

Naturally, she would love her just as deeply.

Seeing Jiang Si asleep, Jiang Lan instructed Chunming, “If anything happens with your mistress, report to me at once. If you conceal anything, none of you will remain in Siyuan Pavilion.”

Chunming nodded, tear stains still damp on her cheeks.

“You should go check on Physician Meng as well.”

“Thank you, Young Master.”

Jiang Lan returned to her own quarters, took a wooden box from the shelf, and opened a bottle of medicinal salve, pouring it directly onto her hands. She picked up a bandage, pressing it in place with her right thumb while wrapping with the other hand.

“Uncle.”

Jiang Lan nudged Ming with her elbow. “Why are you back? Don’t you have lessons this afternoon?”

Ming dragged a stool over to sit beside Jiang Lan. “Uncle, let me help you wrap that.”

Jiang Lan nodded, handing him the bandage.

She spread her hands. Looking at the result—now resembling bear paws—she was speechless.

“Ming, how about we try wrapping them a bit thinner?”

Ming shook his head. “Uncle, is there something wrong? I can help you.”

Jiang Lan thought for a moment, then relented.

Jiang Ruoming sat upright in the chair, a sheet of white paper spread on the desk before him, pen in hand.