Spoiled Eldest Miss x Two-faced Madman

CHAPTER 15: “Yes, I, Pei, Am Indeed Boring.”

　　As expected, An Jiu fell ill.

　　This body was truly delicate. It was just a minor cold—something that in modern times she could’ve shaken off without even taking medicine. But in this body, it came with coughing, fever, and headaches. Before long, she was so sick she couldn’t even get out of bed.

　　An Jiu finally understood why a mere chill could take someone’s life in ancient times. For the past two days, she’d felt like her end was near.

　　And so, Pei Ji was invited to stay at the Lin residence to treat An Jiu’s illness.

　　As he was wheeled to the young lady’s bedroom, Pei Ji heard a faint whistling sound coming from within.

　　By the time he entered, the whistling had stopped. The pale and sickly girl was half-reclining on a chaise lounge, her fingers playing with a delicate little bamboo whistle. Her long lashes drooped downward, and she looked completely drained of energy.

　　The moment she saw him, her delicate little face scrunched up like a steamed bun.

　　“Miss An, your medicine is ready.”

　　“I’m not drinking it! Take it away!”

　　The girl turned her head away angrily. If it were under normal circumstances, such willful behavior would’ve surely annoyed anyone.

　　However, now her face was pale, her voice hoarse, and she had lost all her usual vitality. She looked like a flower battered by the rain—wilted and colorless, evoking nothing but pity.

　　“Miss, be good. You’ll get better faster if you drink the medicine.”

　　Ji Xiang, the maid, was already used to her young lady’s temperament. She first picked up the medicine bowl, then poured a bit into a small bowl and took a sip herself.

　　She didn’t drink straight from the main bowl because the young lady couldn’t tolerate that kind of contact—she found it unhygienic.

　　Even during regular meals, there had to be a pair of communal chopsticks at the table. If anyone failed to differentiate between public and personal use, the young lady would lose her appetite.

　　“Miss, today’s medicine isn’t as bitter! Really, give it a try?”

　　An Jiu knew that only by taking her medicine would she get better, but with a reborn big boss nearby, she couldn’t change her attitude too suddenly.

　　To be honest, becoming like An Jiu from the book wasn’t difficult. The original An Jiu was essentially a lower-grade version of her—flawed and full of shortcomings. As long as she acted more emotional, more willful, more arrogant, and a bit more ‘foolish,’ she’d be just about right.

　　Ji Xiang scooped a spoonful and brought it to the girl's lips.

　　The girl frowned deeply. After being coaxed repeatedly, she finally opened her mouth reluctantly and swallowed a spoonful of the medicinal soup.

　　As soon as it went down, her delicate features scrunched up like a bitter melon, and she complained loudly, “You lied to me! It’s still so bitter!”

　　The maid, who was actually a few years younger than her but acted more like an elder, replied, “Yes, yes, it’s my fault. Please punish your servant, Miss! Don’t get upset—it’s bad for your health! Here, open up, have a candied fruit to chase the bitterness away.”

　　And so, the bowl of medicine was finally, after much struggle, consumed. The young miss herself didn’t think much of it, but to those watching, it looked like a battle that left everyone drenched in sweat.

　　Pei Ji stepped out carrying the now-empty medicine bowl, with Ah Qi pushing the wheelchair behind him, clicking his tongue repeatedly. “That Miss An is really hard to serve, young master. She’s going to be traveling with us next—what are we going to do about that?”

　　“Miss An comes from a good background. It’s normal that she’s been raised to be delicate,” Pei Ji replied calmly.

　　But Ah Qi didn’t quite agree. “Young master, don’t tell me we’ll be the ones serving her on the road too?”

　　Pei Ji didn’t respond, but his thoughts drifted to the previous life.

　　At first, his attitude toward An Jiu had been indifferent. Likewise, An Jiu had no regard for him, this cripple, and hardly ever spoke to him.

　　When they first set out on their journey, she really was a handful. She couldn’t ride a horse, found the carriage too bumpy, was afraid of bugs when sleeping outdoors, and couldn’t stomach the bland rations.

　　But for the sake of staying with He Ziqing, and to avoid being left behind, the pampered young lady put in a great deal of effort to restrain her temper, changing herself for the one she loved.

　　Back then, his strongest impression of her was simply: a foolish and brainless woman.

　　Later, when she lost control and hurt Lin Qingyan—ultimately causing her own death—Pei Ji only found her even more ridiculous. Not just stupid, but laughable. To think she gave up her life for so-called ‘love.’

　　He couldn’t understand it—nor did he care to.

　　Even up to the moment of her death, his feelings toward her remained detached, as indifferent as toward a stranger who had nothing to do with him. It wasn’t until he stumbled upon the fact that she had been born on the exact same year, month, and day as he was, that he finally took real notice of her.

　　Unfortunately, by then, she was already dead.

　　Pei Ji was furious.

　　Because with her death, she also took away his one and only chance at survival.

　　From that moment on, he began to hate her—irrationally and deeply.

　　No one would ever guess that the proud and stoic Pei Ji could hate someone who was already dead. And yet, even more than he hated He Ziqing or Lin Qingyan, he hated her.

　　“Fweeeet~”

　　A sudden whistle broke through his memories, pulling Pei Ji out of the distant past.

　　Ah Qi complained impatiently, “That Miss An is at it again. Blowing that whistle day and night—so annoying.”

　　The courtyard they were staying in wasn’t far from An Jiu’s, and as martial artists with keen hearing, they could hear her every time she blew it.

　　Pei Ji responded coolly, “Ah Qi, a true martial artist must keep a calm mind.”

　　From the tone of his young master’s voice, Ah Qi immediately sensed his foul mood and quickly replied, “Yes, sir.”

　　After that, he didn’t dare say another word.

　　Ah Qi had been taken in and raised by Pei Ji since he was a child. Pei Ji had taught him martial arts, literacy, and how to conduct himself. More than anyone else, Ah Qi revered him. And in front of Pei Ji, he was more relaxed than most servants would ever dare to be.

　　So even though he knew his master had done things no so-called ‘divine doctor’ should, Ah Qi never questioned it.

　　To him, his master was always right. If Pei Ji told him to die, he’d do it without blinking.

　　But over the past few days, Pei Ji's presence had grown increasingly deep and unreadable. Even the leg that had long been crippled had somehow healed without notice. Yet he had instructed Ah Qi not to let anyone know, to continue pretending he was still disabled.

　　Ah Qi didn’t dare ask the reason—nor would he ever. All he knew was that he had to obey his master’s orders, always.

　　After a pause, Ah Qi suddenly remembered something and asked, “Young master, the governor of Qingyang City placed a contract with Qiansha Pavilion last night. He wants the city lord of Jiufang assassinated in prison to stop him from dragging him down with him. This order…”

　　“Don’t take it,” Pei Ji said coldly.

　　Qiansha Pavilion didn’t have much control over the Dark Village (Anzhuang). Normally, it only provided protection and collected commissions for the tower lords and others. If the Dark Village were destroyed—so be it.

　　-----

　　Two more days passed in this manner, and An Jiu's illness finally began to improve. The letter sent to the capital also received a reply.

　　The reply wasn’t long—less than a hundred characters—and had been sent back using a messenger pigeon from Zhùjiàn Villa.

　　It conveyed three main points:

　　1. Father has explained the situation to His Majesty, and the appointed Imperial Inspector is already on the way—he’ll arrive in two days.

　　2. My dear daughter, wait, your brother is on the way too.

　　3. My daughter has suffered during this time. Here is a travel permit widely accepted in the region. Use it to collect silver notes under Father’s name. Jiufang City is so remote—don’t let yourself suffer there!

　　An Jiu: “...”

　　Now she finally understood how An Jiu (in the original version) developed that kind of temper.

　　Wait? What for? People would be arriving in two days—would she even be able to leave by then?

　　The day after receiving the letter, An Jiu decisively packed her belongings, bundled her luggage, and boarded a carriage leaving Jiufang City.

　　At the city gate, Master Lin and Madam Lin tearfully bid her farewell, and beside them stood the little maid Ji Xiang, crying her eyes out.

　　In the end, An Jiu didn’t take Ji Xiang with her. She didn’t know if she’d ever return after this journey, and bringing the girl along might only bring trouble.

　　But unlike the An Jiu in the original story, who left everything behind without a care, she had arranged everything in advance. When her older brother arrived, he would receive the letter she left especially for him, which included a good arrangement for Ji Xiang. Given how much the An family doted on An Jiu, they wouldn’t refuse.

　　Besides Ji Xiang, others who came to see her off included Zhou Yuru and several women from the Red Mansion whom they had rescued.

　　It was unclear how they heard the news, but they were all standing under the city wall, wearing straw hats, seeing them off. 

　　An Jiu leaned out of the carriage window and waved to everyone: “Go back!” 

　　Gradually, the carriage moved away from the city wall, and the people under the wall were no longer visible. 

　　An Jiu sighed with a touch of melancholy. 

　　“Why are you sighing, Miss An?” another person in the carriage asked. 

　　This carriage now only had two passengers: the disabled Pei Ji and the pampered Miss An Jiu. 

　　He Ziqing and Lin Qingyan were riding horses outside the carriage, and Ah Qi was driving for them. 

　　In other words, they would have a lot of time to ‘share a space’ on the journey ahead. 

　　An Jiu didn't bother pretending anymore. She leaned against the window, gazing at the scenery outside, and said slowly, “I don't know when I'll be able to come back again.” 

　　Pei Ji was about to say something comforting, like “there will be opportunities,” but he stopped just as he was about to speak. 

　　If he successfully found Twin-soul Gu, there might not be any opportunities. 

　　An Jiu noticed Pei Ji's silence, but didn't pay much attention to it. 

　　She looked at the scenery for a while, realizing there wasn't much to see. In this era, the outskirts of cities were mostly desolate wilderness, and few people would leave the city. Except for merchants, there were hardly any pedestrians on the road, and martial arts heroes were even rarer.

　　An Jiu couldn’t sit still for long. Traveling in ancient times was far more boring than in the modern world—no phone, no computer, and not even a proper place to sleep.

　　This carriage had been specially made for Pei Ji, just like his luxurious wheelchair, and its interior was quite different from an ordinary carriage.

　　Three sides of the carriage were lined with benches, and in the center, embedded in the floor, was a table just the right height to rest one’s arms on when seated. It actually resembled a modern train compartment in some ways.

　　There must have been shock absorption built under the carriage as well, because the ride was very smooth and barely bumpy at all. Pei Ji was currently sitting at the table reading a book, with a cup of tea placed next to him—and amazingly, the tea hadn’t even spilled.

　　Seeing how intently he was reading, An Jiu couldn’t help but ask, “What book are you reading?”

　　The young man, still dressed in his usual elegant white robes, lifted his eyes from the pages and answered gently, “The Classic of the Pulse.”

　　An Jiu recognized it as a medical text, though she wasn’t supposed to know that, so she blinked and said, “What?”

　　Pei Ji’s expression remained calm and kind as he explained, “It’s a medical book. It talks about the Eight Extraordinary Meridians.”

　　An Jiu glanced away, clearly uninterested, and her eyes fell instead on his cup of tea.

　　“What kind of tea is that?”

　　The young lady was bored and simply trying to make conversation.

　　“¹Yǔ qián lóng jǐng,” he replied.

　　“You don’t have any other books in here?” she asked.

　　“Like what?”

　　An Jiu began counting on her fingers. “Like travel journals, storybooks, teaching guides... If nothing else, even poetry and songs would do!”

　　Pei Ji shook his head and replied unhurriedly, “The books Miss An mentioned…” Seeing the hopeful look in her eyes, his long, narrow eyes curved slightly, a trace of amusement flickering in the depths of his dark gaze, “...none of them are here.”

　　The light in the young girl’s eyes dimmed all at once, like a kitten caught in the rain—her brows drooped, her expression sagged, and visible disappointment clouded her face.

　　“Pei Ji, you—you’re so boring!” she burst out, stomping her feet beneath the table. Her rosy lips pouted so hard one could almost hang a bottle from them.

　　Pei Ji’s fingers paused mid-page turn. He lowered his gaze without a word, the corners of his pale lips tugging faintly.

　　His voice carried a hint of self-mockery: “Indeed... I am quite boring.”

　　“Ding ding! Luckily, this young lady had foresight! Look what this is!” A clear voice suddenly rang out. 

　　Pei Ji looked in the direction of the sound. He saw the girl pulling out a large stack of books from her bag and spreading them on the table. At that moment, she was looking down at him with her chin raised, her whole face beaming with unrestrained self-satisfaction. 

　　The covers of those books were clearly labeled: My Two or Three Things with a Young Master, The Legends of the Swordsmen, Peach Blossom Wine Immortal, That Young Master is So Cold... 

　　The girl crossed her arms, condescendingly offering, “If you beg me, I might let you read one.” 

　　Pei Ji: “...” 

　　“No, really, it's not necessary.” After a moment of silence, he sincerely said. 

　　“Humph, you don't know a good thing!” The girl, having been rejected, widened her eyes and snorted unhappily. 

　　Then she picked a book for herself and happily began to read.

　　While reading she would occasionally ask, “Pei Ji, in your Jianghu (martial arts world), is there a sect called the Golden Saber Sect?”

　　Pei Ji: “Never heard of it.” 

　　“What? There isn't? The Great Swordsman Liu in this book is a successor of the Golden Saber Sect! You're just ignorant!” 

　　Pei Ji: “...”

　　The once quiet carriage was no longer peaceful. The girl chattered like a bird, her small mouth never stopping. 

　　He hadn't realized before how noisy she was.

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Glossary:

¹Yǔ qián lóng jǐng (雨前龙井): ‘Dragon Well tea before the rain’ or ‘Pre-rain Longjing tea.’  

Explanation:  

- 雨前 (Yǔ qián) – ‘Before the rain,’ referring to tea harvested before the Grain Rain (谷雨, Gǔyǔ) solar term (around April 20), which is considered high quality.  

- 龙井 (Lóng jǐng) – ‘Dragon Well,’ a famous type of green tea from Hangzhou, China.  

This term indicates a premium grade of Longjing tea picked in early spring, prized for its tenderness and delicate flavor.  

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Author's Note:

Pei Pei: I'm so boring.

An Jiu: Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp…

Pei Pei: ??? Didn't she think I was boring?

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