Chapter 5: Return to the Jiang Family Part 1

After the cook was dragged from his blankets, the Divine Doctor was next hauled out of bed in a panic and brought to the main hall.

He had once roamed the jianghu practicing medicine until Lu Yan saved him by chance, and he’d stayed at the manor ever since.

The manor had perfectly competent physicians; ordinary aches and scrapes never troubled the Divine Doctor.

Hauled up in such a hurry this time, he’d thrown on his medicine chest and rushed over, assuming the Prince had been assassinated again—only to reach the main hall’s door and find Cheng Yu and Cheng Jing both standing guard outside, each wearing a stranger expression than the last.

The Divine Doctor’s heart thumped. He probed carefully, “The Prince took aphrodisiacs?”

Cheng Jing rolled his eyes. “How many times have we told you to read fewer of those trashy books. No respect for your elders.”

“…Then what are you two guarding the door for?”

Cheng Jing jerked his chin and said nothing. Cheng Yu scratched his head. “Just go in. The Prince is waiting.”

Made uneasy by the pair, the Divine Doctor swallowed and carefully pushed the door open.

Not a single attendant inside the hall.

The bed curtains hung down, and faint sounds drifted from within—broken sobs, sticky and sweet, unbearably coquettish.

Dear heavens. It really was aphrodisiacs.

The Divine Doctor silently cursed those two outside for not giving him a heads-up. Now he could neither advance nor retreat. Choosing his words, he ventured, “Your Highness…”

The sobbing inside quieted slightly.

Then came a sound far more chilling to the Divine Doctor’s ears.

His Prince was actually coaxing someone!!

Soft and low, gentle enough to squeeze water from stone.

“There, no more crying, baby. Let the doctor take your pulse.”

So not aphrodisiacs—hallucinogenics.

“Come here,” Lu Yan said at last, flatly.

The Divine Doctor hurried over and sat on the small stool by the bed. A slender wrist extended; the man’s large hand clasped the forearm, knuckle-defined, grip possessive, as if afraid the person would bolt the moment he let go. At this sight the Divine Doctor’s eyelids jumped; not daring another glance, he lowered his head and took the pulse with utmost seriousness.

Following Lu Yan, it was assassination attempts and poisonings day in and day out—he truly hadn’t diagnosed such a… healthy pulse in ages.

The Divine Doctor smacked his lips. “A bit of food stagnation. Nothing else wrong.”

Jiang Sheng: “…”

He defended himself righteously, “I only ate so much because I was starving! And I hurt all over—it must be bruises. And… and my foot hurts too.”

As he spoke, Jiang Sheng worked himself up into tearful grievance again.

That’s what having someone to back you up does.

When you’re alone, no matter how much you suffer, you swallow your tears.

But the moment Lu Yan was in sight, even a papercut on a finger demanded coaxing.

Sure enough, Lu Yan’s voice turned urgent. “Foot hurts? Did you sprain it? Let me see.”

Jiang Sheng kicked his little foot out into Lu Yan’s face.

Lu Yan had led troops in years past; long illness had made something of a physician of him, and he knew some bone-setting himself—but afraid of hurting Jiang Sheng, he immediately called the Divine Doctor over.

The curtain lifted, and the man finally saw the full picture.

His Highness, holding in his arms a young master in red brocade robes, tenderly wiping his tears and murmuring comfort.

The Divine Doctor suddenly realized something.

Wait… wasn’t today the day the Jiang Family was sending someone over?

Cheng Jing had even joked earlier that the Jiang Family’s young master would probably get his arms and legs twisted off by the Prince, and hoped the Divine Doctor wouldn’t refuse to save him—at least help keep a breath in the body.

And now, looking at this Jiang Family young master—little face flushed pink from crying, but no sign of suffering anywhere, instead being held and coddled by their Prince.

He’d seen a ghost.

While the Divine Doctor stood stunned, Lu Yan’s eyes lifted slightly, his gaze terrifyingly cold.

The Divine Doctor’s heart lurched; he hastily dropped his gaze.

Lu Yan changed faces like a stage performer—looking down at Jiang Sheng again, his voice was soft and gentle once more. “Let the doctor look at your foot, there’s a good boy.”

Jiang Sheng’s foot wasn’t badly sprained—utterly trivial for the Divine Doctor. For anyone else he’d have said rest two days and be done. But with the Prince watching, he went through the motions, pressing on the sprained ankle.

“There. Apply the ointment and rest it two days; it’ll be fine.”

Then, per the Prince’s instructions, he left behind two bottles of Jade Dew Ointment—a miracle salve for bruises and sprains, but costly to make, using rare ingredients; even the manor had only a few bottles.

Pushing the door open, he found the two brothers standing there like door gods, eyes gleaming at him.

The Divine Doctor coughed twice, sat down heavily on the steps, fished a bottle out of his medicine chest, tipped his head back, and downed the pills like pouring beans.

Cheng Yu leaned in. “What are you taking?”

“Antidote,” the Divine Doctor said expressionlessly. “I suspect I’ve been dosed with hallucinogenics.”

Cheng Yu and Cheng Jing exchanged a look, then simultaneously held out their hands to the Divine Doctor.

And so three men sat on the steps, pouring antidote pills down like beans.

Crunch crunch crunch…

Inside the hall, the moment the Divine Doctor left, Lu Yan dropped the curtain and began undoing Jiang Sheng’s robes.

Jiang Sheng’s little face went sallow. “Husband, I ate too much today, so be gentle when you push in.”

Lu Yan paused, then couldn’t help pinching his ear.

“We’re not doing that! I’m checking you for injuries.”

Jiang Sheng behaved. “Oh.”

He was held bare in Lu Yan’s arms for inspection.

A bruise here, a knock there… Lu Yan counted every mark on Jiang Sheng’s body.

Such bumps would be nothing on Lu Yan, but on Jiang Sheng they made his heart ache unbearably.

Ointment in hand, he gentled his touch, applying it to each spot, then blowing on it afterward—like coaxing a child: blow on it and it stops hurting.

Jiang Sheng blinked, sniffled.

The mood was sufficiently brewed. Time to begin.

Jiang Sheng had been a champion complainer since childhood.

Anyone who bullied him as a kid got a pointed finger and a fierce threat: “You wait right there. I’m getting my gege.”

Then he’d dash off on his little short legs.

The elementary and middle schools shared a campus, and Lu Yan happened to be classmates with Jiang Sheng’s older brother, Jiang Feng. So the older brother could only watch, helpless, as his little brother bolted past him and, like a little cannonball, burrowed with unerring accuracy into Lu Yan’s arms. “Xiao-ge, someone bullied me.”

Jiang Feng’s eyes went wide, voice rising. “Your actual brother is right here!”

Jiang Sheng ignored him completely; pouting, he dragged Lu Yan off to settle the score.

Later they grew up, got married, and it got even worse.

Jiang Sheng’s parents were abroad; only his brother managed the family company. After the wedding Jiang Sheng moved in with Lu Yan, occasionally coming back to visit his brother, that lonely old bachelor.

But Jiang Sheng and his brother had bickered from cradle on.

Little Jiang Sheng: I’m telling Mom and Dad!

Grown Jiang Sheng: I’m telling my husband on you!

Poor Lu Yan, chairing a company meeting on one end while remotely adjudicating lawsuits for the family baby on the other.

Coming by in the evening to pick up his wife, he’d open the door and automatically receive one soft, sweet-smelling wife; Jiang Sheng would burrow into his husband’s arms, wrap around Lu Yan’s neck, and tattle with fake tears, “Brother bullied me. I came all this way to visit him and he wasn’t grateful at all.”

“Thank you very much. I’m not yet in my dotage,” Jiang Feng said, gaming and needling in equal measure. “Xiao Sheng, if you keep clinging like this, aren’t you afraid Lu Yan will get sick of you and divorce you?”

Before Jiang Sheng could answer, Lu Yan’s face darkened first. “Brother, I will never divorce Jiang Sheng, not in this lifetime.”

Backed by his husband, Jiang Sheng played the fox to the tiger’s might, hands on hips, rattling on, “Exactly! You can’t even find yourself a partner, so don’t be jealous of other people!”

Jiang Feng laughed in fury, dropping the controller to come grab him. Jiang Sheng whooshed behind Lu Yan, bellowing, “Husband, save me!”

Lu Yan blocked him helplessly. “Brother, don’t bully Shengsheng.”

Jiang Feng was being driven mad by the pair.

Finally shipping off that Little Ancestor, Jiang Feng, body and soul exhausted, went to his room and called their parents, blubbering, “Jiang Sheng bullied me…”

Like anyone else couldn’t tattle.

But Jiang Sheng wasn’t done. He was the champion troublemaker—at night in bed he’d sit on Lu Yan’s lap, whining and wheedling, grumbling that Jiang Feng’s cooking was awful, that Jiang Feng hadn’t gone easy on him in games today.

Every grumble earned a round of coaxing from Lu Yan, who was a seasoned veteran of this. Large hand gently patting Jiang Sheng’s back, he’d go along with everything, tossing in a few mild insults about his Elder Brother-in-Law, coaxing his wife back to happiness.

The perk of raising your wife from childhood: you knew exactly how to coax him. The moment Jiang Sheng’s brow furrowed, Lu Yan already knew the whole story.

But that was for family. He’d coax Jiang Sheng, listen to his wife’s wheedling, and the matter would pass.

Outsiders bullying him was another matter entirely.

Lu Yan sat quietly, Jiang Sheng in his arms, listening as he described, voice thick with tears, how he’d lived these past days, how the Jiang Family had mistreated him, how he’d fled for his life alone on the mountain, tumbled down a slope.

Lu Yan’s face showed nothing, but his hands trembled faintly.

Yesterday… he had been at Guanyun Temple too.

He and his wife might have been no more than a shoulder’s breadth apart. He had ordered the temple cleared; his wife had fallen only because he was hiding from him. If anything had happened to Jiang Sheng because of that, then he…

Lu Yan couldn’t bear to think further. His heart felt flung high into the air and dashed to the ground, as if even breathing drew blood-flecked air.

He suppressed everything, bowed his head, kissing Jiang Sheng’s cheek, kissing away the tear tracks, murmuring, “Don’t be afraid, baby. I’m here. I’ll kill them all.”

Jiang Sheng: “Huh?”

Just like that, killed?

A young man raised under the red flag, hearing “kill” in every other sentence—Jiang Sheng was a bit dazed, eyes round, stammering, “K-kill them?”

Seeing this reaction, Lu Yan realized his slip. He smiled gently, lowering his eyes to hide the chill in them, tone mild. “Just joking.”

He wouldn’t kill them outright.

A fate worse than death was better.

He patted Jiang Sheng’s back and asked the most crucial question. “Baby, tell me the truth. How did you get here?”

Just now Jiang Sheng had glossed over things, speaking only of what happened after he transmigrated to Great Gan—not one word about how.

Lu Yan himself had come over through a car accident. And Jiang Sheng?

He didn’t dare think about it.

Jiang Sheng pouted, mumbling, “I fell down and here I am.”

Lu Yan frowned and gave his butt a light pat. “Properly.”

“Really.”

Jiang Sheng rolled over, lying on top of Lu Yan, studying the man seriously. “After your car accident, I was the only one left at home. I just wasn’t careful, that’s all.”

After learning of Lu Yan’s death, Jiang Sheng had nearly cried himself to death.

The Jiang parents had rushed back from abroad, and with Jiang Feng, they’d all kept watch over Jiang Sheng.

Truthfully they grieved too. Lu Yan had grown up in the Jiang household, practically one of their own.

Lu Yan’s father and Father Jiang had been close. After Lu Yan’s parents died in an accident, the Lu relatives, busy fighting over the estate, had schemed to dump Lu Yan in an orphanage.

In the end Father Jiang couldn’t stand it and took the boy home.