Chapter 37

That evening, numerous physicians rushed to the Plum Garden, and the news of Yan Yiming's disfigured face eventually spread throughout the entire estate.
The actresses and performers excitedly discussed how her face could have been ruined, yet each of them couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. After all, without that beautiful face, Yan Yiming could no longer hold onto Young Master Jian as firmly as before.
Unexpectedly, however, after Yan Yiming's face was injured, Jian Yuyan spent even more time in the Plum Garden. Later, someone quietly claimed to have witnessed a hideous scar, as long as a finger, on Yan Yiming's face, terrifying even from a distance. Yet that person also said that Young Master Jian didn't seem afraid in the slightest. He had even personally dressed and applied medicine to Yan Yiming while she was still unconscious, with a look of seriousness and sorrow they had never seen before.
Yan Yiming was no longer beautiful. Some felt they finally had a chance, but others knew that, in truth, they had lost all opportunity.
The Plum Garden remained largely unchanged from before, with the only notable difference being the daily comings and goings of physicians carrying medicine boxes. In the southernmost courtyard of the estate, one could smell the bitter scent of herbs upon approaching.
The wound on Yan Yiming's face was too deep and too long to ever fully disappear. The physicians tactfully implied that no medicine would make a difference, yet Jian Yuyan patiently and gently applied a soothing ointment to the scar.
Something was better than nothing.
After applying the medicine, Jian Yuyan traced his fingers over her cheek, as if caressing the familiar contours of her face. Finally, he held her hand and pleaded softly, “A'Ming, please wake up soon.”
Yan Yiming finally awoke on the evening two days later.
In truth, Yan Yiming had been conscious all along, she simply hadn't felt like waking up just yet. So, she chose to remain in that state, playing checkers and bantering with Little A.
Jian Yuyan's favorability had already reached its peak after her face was disfigured that day, meaning Yan Yiming could actually walk away right then. However, unlike last time, the system didn't immediately demand she end her life within an hour but instead extended the deadline to a month.
Yan Yiming had experienced a few days of Jian Yuyan's meticulous care, and there were still some matters she hadn't properly resolved, so she wasn't in a particular hurry to leave. Still, she found it puzzling that the system wasn't urging her. Setting down the Chinese checkers in her hand, she asked, “Why?”
“We haven't finished the game yet...” Little A muttered under her breath, but then remembered the more important matter. “You asked me before if there's any difference between SSR and SR cards besides slightly higher stats. Well, there is indeed another difference,” Little A explained. “Each SSR card plays a crucial role in the overall storyline. If R and SR cards drive the plot forward, then SSR cards represent a pivotal turning point at a certain stage of the story. Right now, we're just a little short of reaching that climax.”
Yan Yiming wasn't too concerned about how long she stayed; she was more focused on whether there would be extra diamond rewards after completing everything in this additional month.
“Of course there will be,” Little A assured her. “I am so generous!”
“I like your generosity,” Yan Yiming said with satisfaction. “Please keep it up in the future. Now, it's time for us to head back.”
If they didn't return soon, with the limited technology of ancient times, she might starve to death after being unconscious for so many days, even if she hadn't succumbed to illness.
Since that day, Jian Yuyan had been sleeping restlessly every night. Whenever he closed his eyes, he would recall the first time he met Yan Yiming, the elegant woman's clear eyes and her voice, as melodious as a nightingale's.
Over the course of half a year, he had let go of the long-held feelings for Jian Yu'er buried deep in his heart and instead fell for a woman named “A’Ming.”
Jian Yuyan had once dreamed of a day when there would be no more blood feuds, no more burdensome responsibilities weighing him down. He imagined leaving the imperial city behind and wandering freely with A’Ming in a world without constraints.
In his dreams, there were beautiful galleries, the woman's enchanting voice, and an endless sense of joy and freedom captured in ink and brush.
It was a scene he kept hidden in the deepest recesses of his heart, one he never spoke of and didn't even dare to dwell on in his spare time.
More often, however, he would dream of Yan Yiming lying in his arms, in excruciating pain yet still asking him if they still resembled each other. He would dream of Jian Yu'er holding a blood-stained golden hairpin, explaining over and over again that it wasn't her who had struck the blow.
Suddenly, Jian Yuyan woke up.
The plum garden in the dead of night was utterly silent, plunged into pitch-black darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he could faintly make out the bed curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. Turning his head, he saw Yan Yiming's undamaged left cheek, still as elegant as ever.
Jian Yuyan gazed at her for a long time, his fingers gently tracing her cheek before slowly sliding down to her waist, pulling her tightly into his embrace.
Waking from the dream, he felt content just to see her, Jian Yuyan thought to himself. Yet, he couldn’t help but selfishly wish for more, how he longed for her to talk with him as she once had.
The woman in his arms stirred ever so slightly, and Jian Yuyan’s body stiffened abruptly, his heart seeming to stop for a moment. After a long pause, her voice, delicate yet tinged with weakness, drifted faintly from his embrace:
“Zi’an, what time is it…?”
Without warning, tears welled up in Jian Yuyan’s eyes.
He parted his lips, trying to calm the surge of emotion, and finally wrapped his trembling arms around her once more.
“It’s the hour of Mao…”
Dawn was approaching.
Yan Yiming had “finally” awakened. The young maid watched nervously as she sat before the bronze mirror, examining the face now marred by a scar. The maid recalled Young Master Jian’s earlier instructions before he left on urgent business, to keep Yan Yiming from looking in the mirror. But if Yan Yiming insisted, there was no stopping her.
The maid feared Yan Yiming might break down at the sight of her reflection, yet Yan Yiming stared for a while with unexpected calm. Frowning slightly, as if speaking to herself, she murmured, “Looking at it this way, it really is a bit ugly.”
The maid, Little A, averted her gaze, speechless. With such a long scar, of course it was ugly.
Back then, with her senses numbed, she hadn’t felt the pain. Now, as her senses gradually returned, Yan Yiming tugged at the corner of her lips. “And it still hurts a little.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Regret?” Yan Yiming chuckled. “Not at all. I’m quite satisfied.”
That brutal slash had severed all of Jian Yuyan’s lingering attachments to Jian Yu’er, eradicated the useless weakness in his heart, and accomplished the final step of her plan. What was there to regret?
If it didn’t look good, she simply wouldn’t look in the mirror for a while. As for the pain, the worst of it was already over, what remained felt almost trivial.
Turning to the worried young maid, Yan Yiming smiled gently and beckoned her over to help with her hair.
The maid hesitated, still wondering if she should offer some comfort, and was a beat slow. Yan Yiming gave her a teasing glance. “Scared? Should I cover my face with a veil…?”
“Of course not!”
The maid’s eyes reddened as she hurried over, taking the comb from Yan Yiming’s hand. Her hair was still as beautiful and flowing as a waterfall, how could such a lovely feature be paired with…?
Even through the bronze mirror, Yan Yiming could see the girl shedding tears and couldn’t resist teasing her again. “You cry so easily. What will you do when I’m no longer here?”
“No longer here? Where would you go?” the maid asked, bewildered “Young Master Jian said I’m to serve you always.”
In her mind, Yan Yiming could no longer be an actress; her only path forward was to follow Jian Yuyan. Since he had promised she could serve Yan Yiming indefinitely, the maid couldn’t grasp what Yan Yiming meant.
Yan Yiming didn’t explain. She watched as the maid skillfully tied up her long hair but kept stealing glances at the scarred face, her eyes welling up each time. Feeling helpless, Yan Yiming found a veil and covered her face.
Covering the hideous wound, her delicate brows and eyes remained, along with the tiny red mole at the corner of her eye, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the unfinished portrait of a beauty that Jian Yuyan had once started.
That painting was from a time when they had gone on an outing. Yan Yiming, dressed in a white gauze dress with a translucent veil over her face, exuded an air of mystery compared to when her face was uncovered. With just a few strokes, Jian Yuyan had captured her silhouette on paper.
Back then, it was only an outline. Now, the painting was nearly complete. Without much thought, it was clear that Jian Yuyan had filled it in stroke by stroke during the days Yan Yiming lay unconscious.
Yan Yiming set the painting aside, spread out a fresh sheet of paper, and with her brush touching the page, she swiftly sketched the face of a man.
When Jian Yuyan returned, Yan Yiming was wearing her veil, concealing the scars and looking just as she had before. As he approached and saw the familiar figure on the paper, he smiled warmly and said, “You’ve painted it well.”
Yan Yiming turned and shot him a playful glare before breaking into a smile. “Why are you so quiet? You startled me.”
“You were so focused, I didn’t want to disturb you,” he replied. The physician had advised that Yan Yiming needed rest and shouldn’t overexert herself, so after spending a little time with her, Jian Yuyan gently took the brush from her hand.
“I haven’t finished yet…”
“There’s plenty of time ahead; you can take it slow,” he said, leading her back to the side chamber. He removed the veil from her face and, with practiced care, applied medicine to her wounds as he always did. “Have you taken your medicine?”
“I have,” she replied, though in truth, Little A had disposed of it. Yan Yiming looked up at Jian Yuyan’s face so close to hers, feeling the cool sensation of the medicine on her skin, and asked, “Is the scar… very ugly?”
Jian Yuyan paused for a moment before answering, “Yes.” Seeing her raised eyebrows, he frowned and added, “You knew it would leave a scar and still did something so reckless. Didn’t it hurt?”
“It did,” Yan Yiming said, clutching her chest in a pitiful manner. “It hurt so much. Zi’an, are you angry with me?”
Angry? Of course, he had been angry, furious that she had been so careless with herself. But seeing her like this, all his anger had melted into heartache and guilt.
She had already suffered enough, how could he stay angry? If only he had made her feel secure, things might not have ended this way.
“Then… now that I’m not pretty anymore, do you dislike me?”
Meeting her slightly anxious gaze, Jian Yuyan sighed helplessly. Setting the medicine aside, he pulled her onto his lap and gently brushed his lips against her still-pale ones. But Yan Yiming responded by deepening the kiss herself.
Afraid of accidentally hurting her wound yet unable to bring himself to pull away, Jian Yuyan held her close and intensified the kiss. After a long moment, Yan Yiming let out a soft whimper, and he immediately released her, guilt flooding his voice as he asked, “Did I hurt you? Did it touch your wound?”
“It doesn't hurt,” Yan Yiming said with laughter in her eyes, gazing at him with the deep affection he so adored. Jian Yuyan chuckled softly.
Outside, a young maid announced that Yu Mei and a few others from the Plum Garden had come to visit Yan Yiming. Yan Yiming's smile faded, and she fell silent. When Jian Yuyan looked at her again, his earlier ease had vanished entirely. He instructed the maid to send the visitors away, then spoke gently to Yan Yiming, “You once said you loved the theater, that if you couldn't truly be with me, you'd rather stay in the Plum Garden forever. But now, it seems you can't remain there any longer. A’Ming, would you be willing to come back to the Jian residence with me?”
Yan Yiming was sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. She remained quiet for a long time after hearing his words, then suddenly averted her gaze and asked softly, “Does Miss Jian not like...”
“Whether she likes it or not has nothing to do with us.”
“But I'm just an actress...”
“You've only ever performed for me, that hardly makes you an actress.”
Yan Yiming laughed and scolded him lightly. After a long pause, she said, “And what about Chancellor Jian? You haven't married yet...”
She didn't say it outright, but her meaning was clear: he might not mind her being an actress, but Chancellor Jian certainly would. If Jian Yuyan brought an actress home before even marrying, the Chancellor would never agree.
“I haven't married yet,” Jian Yuyan said slowly, “but I only wish to marry you. As for Father... I will handle it. Don't worry, just wait for me to bring you home.”
Yan Yiming agreed without further questions, then slipped out of his embrace. “Then, while we still have these days, take me out for a walk.”
Jian Yuyan assumed she meant that life in the Jian residence would be less free, and he smiled helplessly. “Even if you enter the Jian residence, going out for fun now and then is no great matter.”
Yan Yiming smiled without replying, picking up her veil to cover her face once more.
It was early summer, and the small South Lake in Gucheng shimmered with ripples, its shores adorned with enchanting scenery. Occasionally, a boat would part the lotus leaves, leaving behind the fleeting glimpse of a woman's graceful figure.
Others spotted the renowned eldest son of the Jian family, accompanied by the veiled, elegant woman, appearing in various corners of Jinling. Some claimed to have seen Young Master Jian painting for her, while others said they witnessed him gently adjusting her hair.
Jiang Yi once again saw Jian Yuyan and Yan Yiming at the familiar teahouse, though this time they were not seated by the window as before. Jian Yuyan left for a short while for some unknown reason, and after he departed, someone approached Jiang Yi, inviting him upstairs with the message that a young lady wished to speak with him.
Surprised, Jiang Yi realized that Yan Yiming had noticed him earlier.
When he entered the room, Yan Yiming still wore her veil, not removing it even to drink tea. Noticing Jiang Yi's puzzled expression, she smiled and explained, “I'm afraid taking this off might startle you, Young Master Jiang.”
Jiang Yi frowned slightly.
Yan Yiming turned her face away. A breeze lifted the edge of her veil, revealing her delicate jawline but also a hideous scar.
Jiang Yi was stunned. Even with his steady temperament, he was momentarily at a loss for words. “What is this?”
“I was cut.”
“Who cut you?”
“Myself.”
Why...
He didn't ask aloud, but being as perceptive as he was, he had almost instantly guessed the reason.
When Jian Yuyan returned, there was an extra teacup on the table. Yan Yiming smiled and explained to him that she had just encountered Young Master Jiang. After finishing, she deliberately added, “It’s that Young Master Jiang who achieved top honors in three successive examinations and is now thriving.”
Jian Yuyan narrowed his beautiful peach-blossom eyes slightly. “When did you get to know him?”
“That was quite some time ago,” Yan Yiming blinked. “Young Master Jiang is not only exceptionally talented but also remarkably handsome.”
Jian Yuyan gritted his teeth. “How handsome?”
Meeting Yan Yiming’s teasing gaze, Jian Yuyan felt both annoyed and amused. Yan Yiming pretended to ponder before finally saying, “Just a little less handsome than Zi’an.”
Jian Yuyan was satisfied and handed her a small paper bag. The golden chestnut candies were distinct and clear. “It’s the first time I’ve known you like such snacks.”
“Actually, I don’t really like them. I just suddenly felt like having one,” Yan Yiming picked one up and put it in her mouth. In truth, she had intentionally sent Jian Yuyan away for a while, and she couldn’t think of anything else but this.
Looking up at the sky, the setting sun had already dyed all of Jinling in shades of red and gold. The candy slowly melted in her mouth, leaving a slightly coarse but refreshing sweetness.
Another day had passed. Now, it was time to begin the final countdown.