Only Routines Win Hearts

When Jiang Lan woke again, it was already the morning of the third day.

Several shafts of glaring sunlight streamed through the window lattice, making it hard for him to open his eyes. Only after a while did his muddled head gradually clear and his awareness return.

"It's fine when it doesn't act up, but when it does, it really is deadly..."

He tried to sit up in bed, but his entire body was limp. His arms and legs felt as though they had been filled with lead—weak and heavy, utterly refusing to obey him.

This feeling... was like working himself to the bone for three days and three nights straight, until his kidney essence and blood had run dry.

Of course, to delay and control the onset of this illness, he truly did need to keep working himself relentlessly, leaving his body in a prolonged state of depletion.

The moment his essence and blood recovered even a little, the day of his next attack would not be far off.

"The original body's last time with a woman seems to have been more than half a month ago..."

"Looking at it this way, I was careless. An attack once every half month is perfectly normal."

Jiang Lan slowly let out a breath, only to find his throat seemingly full of the taste of blood.

Even his chest felt clogged with bits of blood, while his heart ached with unusual intensity.

At last, he understood why, in the memories, the original owner had feared this "illness" so deeply, even finding life worse than death.

Having experienced it himself, Jiang Lan understood completely.

It felt as if every tendon and muscle in his body were spasming and convulsing.

The blood that should have been pumped from his heart seemed to be abruptly sucked back from every organ in his body.

And yet, throughout the process, his mind was even clearer than usual.

As a result, the pain was magnified hundreds of times in an instant.

Tsk, tsk...

Even the ten great tortures were probably no worse than this.

Jiang Lan could only sympathize with what the original owner had endured over so many years, but now it was his turn to suffer.

Fortunately, during the attack, Jiang Lan could distinctly feel the original owner's countless memories surging into him like a raging torrent—or, more accurately, washing over him.

Whenever he had browsed through the original owner's memories before, he had always felt a sense of detachment, as though he were viewing someone's entire life from a third-person perspective.

It had left him with a faint but persistent sense of alienation, making him feel that he was Jiang Lan from his previous life, rather than Jiang Lan of this life.

Whether it had been the awakening of his past-life memories or transmigration and rebirth, it had always been his previous-life self.

But now, as the torrent of memories washed over him, he was finally fully integrated into this life.

Jiang Lan could clearly feel his soul and memories melding seamlessly into one, smooth and whole without the slightest obstruction.

He was Jiang Lan, and Jiang Lan was him. There was no longer any difference between the two.

This could be considered a blessing in disguise after the attack.

"Young Master Jiang, you're awake?"

The door to the side room was suddenly pushed open, and a cool voice tinged with slight surprise rang out.

Su Qinghan, dressed in a long gown white as snow, walked in carrying a basin of water, with a towel resting on its rim.

"You've been taking care of me these past few days?"

Jiang Lan was briefly surprised, but soon returned to calm.

Su Qinghan had not gone back to Su Manor and had instead stayed here all this time. That was somewhat beyond his expectations.

"That night, for some reason, Young Master Jiang suddenly fell unconscious. Fortunately, your saber-wielding guard noticed in time and rushed over, carrying you back to your room..."

"I had planned to return to Su Manor, but the maids at the City Lord's Mansion were clumsy and trembling with fear, so I had no choice but to stay."

Su Qinghan set the basin aside.

Seeing that he seemed to want to sit up, she stepped forward to support him as she explained.

"I see. That night must have frightened Miss Su."

Jiang Lan smiled and, with Su Qinghan's support, sat up in bed.

A faint, pleasant fragrance drifted to his nose. As Su Qinghan bent over to support him, his gaze happened to fall upon the stretch of delicate, fair skin at her snowy neck—jade-like and flawless, glistening without the slightest blemish.

But after a moment's thought, Jiang Lan still averted his gaze.

Su Qinghan noticed Jiang Lan's movement and paused. Only then did she realize that they seemed to be standing a little too close.

Because Jiang Lan had remained unconscious these past two days and she had been caring for him at his side, she had gradually grown used to such things.

A nearly imperceptible flush immediately rose to her flawless fair face. Then she took a light step back, putting some distance between them.

"Circumstances were urgent. Qinghan was discourteous; I hope Young Master Jiang will not take offense..."

Su Qinghan lowered her eyes and apologized softly, then rose and went to the copper basin at the side to wet the towel and other items.

She remembered that Jiang Lan was a germaphobe. Back at Snow Moon Pavilion, he had merely touched her once before hastily wiping his hands with a silk handkerchief.

With the two of them standing so close just now, he was probably uncomfortable all over...

Yet Su Qinghan still found it somewhat strange and novel. He could put on the lecherous air of someone who would freely take liberties with her, yet deep down, he resisted having any contact with her.

The more she came to understand and interact with him, the more it left her at a loss for words. Faintly, she also felt that Jiang Lan did not seem as unapproachable as he appeared.

Jiang Lan merely shook his head slightly at her words.

Though he knew what Su Qinghan was thinking, he had no intention of explaining. After all, her wild conjectures and associations were precisely the result he had deliberately intended.

As for this obsession with cleanliness, it truly was related to his "illness."

The original owner had indulged in wine and women, living a life of utter debauchery. To outsiders, it seemed he simply lusted after women, but the real reason had been to alleviate and suppress the flare-ups of his illness.

Over time, the original owner had naturally come to loathe it as well, developing a severe obsession with cleanliness because of it.

It was so severe that even women who had once been involved with him would fill him with intense disgust whenever he saw them again.

"There's no need to trouble yourself, Miss Su. I'll do it myself."

Seeing Su Qinghan wetting the towel as though she intended to wipe his face for him, Jiang Lan considered it for a moment before taking it from her himself.

It was not because of his obsession with cleanliness. After the fusion of memories, he did not actually care much about such things.

But an act had to be carried through to the end. This little flaw of his could be slowly corrected later.

For now, perhaps because of their late-night conversation that evening, coupled with his illness-induced coma, Su Qinghan had inexplicably grown much closer to him. She had even taken the initiative to care for him as if she were a maid.

So that saying really was true: only schemes could win people's hearts.

"Young Master Jiang has only just recovered. I'll go inform them and have the City Lord's Mansion prepare some medicinal cuisine..."

Seeing Jiang Lan's obvious reluctance to accept her care, the corners of Su Qinghan's lips curved slightly, though the expression vanished in an instant.

"There's no need for medicinal cuisine. I just need to get up and move around slowly to recover."

Jiang Lan shook his head, wiping his face with the damp towel as his thoughts gradually cleared.

His illness was not something medicinal cuisine could ease.

If he ate any more heavily nourishing food and replenished his essence, energy, and blood, it might very well flare up again.