Chapter Seventy-Two: The Shen Family’s Castle

Zhou Qingfei stood pale-faced at the doorway, holding a thermal container in her hand. Shen Ruizhang had never been accustomed to the food here, and now, after suffering such a grievous injury, he naturally needed proper nourishment. The golden chicken soup’s aroma wafted out even before she unscrewed the lid.

“Ruizhang, are you feeling better? What did the doctor say?”

“I’m fine.” His breathing was heavy, his voice unusually hoarse; one could tell he had just spoken at length.

Zhou Qingfei glanced at Jiang Yunzhou—unsurprisingly, she didn’t show her any kindness, but for once didn’t start trouble, instead speaking gently, “You were unconscious for so long, you must be hungry. I made some soup—would you like some... Did the doctor say you could have it?”

The medical record contained instructions, but Zhou Qingfei couldn’t decipher them, so Jiang Yunzhou had to explain. “He can’t eat or drink right now, only receive nutrients through an IV. Miss Zhou, you’ll have to enjoy the soup yourself.”

Zhou Qingfei raised her brow at her. “Why aren’t you calling me ‘little aunt’ anymore?”

Though Jiang Yunzhou had lost any affection for Shen Ruizhang, that hardly meant she wished to get along with Zhou Qingfei. Her expression chilled, and she replied indifferently, “Once you two get your marriage certificate, I’ll call you that.”

With that, she maneuvered her wheelchair to leave.

“Yunzhou!” Shen Ruizhang called her again.

Jiang Yunzhou bowed her head slightly, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I understand everything you wish to say, but...”

“I’m no longer that little girl in the garden who got into trouble and needed you to cover for her.”

“I know full well what sort of perilous place the Shen family is—I’ll experience it for myself.”

She had pushed aside some work, and the school semester was over; with nothing pressing, Jiang Yunzhou made her way on crutches to the main Shen family villa.

Rather than a villa, it was more akin to a castle. The architectural style echoed the elegance of the Renaissance, blended with modern craft; the entire estate was grand and opulent. Even though Jiang Yunzhou knew nothing of horticulture, she could tell that every inch beneath her feet was sustained by vast sums of money.

A maid bowed to her, inquiring about her purpose. Upon learning her identity, it was the butler who came to receive her.

Ten minutes later, Jiang Yunzhou met Shen Tingxiao.

Sunlight streamed into the room, and Shen Tingxiao’s bare torso was swathed in bandages. His mouth was set in a downward curve, his gaze sharp and fixed on a corner of the room.

When the butler opened the door, Jiang Yunzhou was startled by his look. She had never seen Shen Tingxiao in such a state.

Despite knowing that this man was shrewd and skilled, had seized most of the Shen family’s financial power at a young age, and was deeply calculating and experienced, it was difficult to reconcile this image with the man who had once smiled warmly and brought her flowers.

Shen Tingxiao was delighted to see Jiang Yunzhou; his icy demeanor melted instantly, almost making him seem like a foolish boy.

“You’re here! Why didn’t you let me know sooner? I could have sent the driver to fetch you.”

“I know where your home is, and I have a driver—wanted to surprise you!”

Truthfully, it wasn’t just that. She was mainly concerned that if he was brought home, he might be bullied.

After all, though Shen Tingxiao was the biological son of the Shen couple, he’d grown up elsewhere; to them, he was never as dear as the false young master raised by their side.

She feared he would be mistreated at home.

But now, it seemed he was living well, housed in the best quarters, and hadn’t grown thin.

Jiang Yunzhou breathed a sigh of relief.

“How’s your leg?” Shen Tingxiao suddenly asked.

Jiang Yunzhou was taken aback. “My leg? How did you know I was injured?”

He had fainted earlier than she had.

Shen Tingxiao smiled, raising his hand to gently touch her head. “In my current situation, even asleep, I have to keep one eye open. If I didn’t know you were hurt, I wouldn’t have survived this long.”

“Don’t be afraid.” Seeing the terror flicker in her eyes, Shen Tingxiao hurried to comfort her. “I’m very sorry about what happened—it frightened you, but it taught me a lesson.”

“If you don’t beat the drowning dog, it’s bound to turn into a hungry wolf.”

“Was it... was it that...” That false young master who had lived in luxury for more than a decade, taking his place?

Having raised him so long, they couldn’t bear to let him go. The Shen family had adopted him as their foster son, making him Shen Tingxiao’s nominal brother, though Jiang Yunzhou could never accept that.

She felt his grievance deeply.

Shen Tingxiao sneered, “That useless fool? How could he pull something like this?”

“I thought it was him at first, thought he’d finally grown some backbone. But after investigating, I found it was someone on the board using his hand. The matter’s been dealt with—now those parents are busy cleaning up their younger son’s mess.”

Their real son suffered grave injuries, yet they ignored him, rushing about to help their false son escape blame. No wonder Shen Tingxiao was resentful.

“Let’s not talk about that. It’s rare for you to visit.” Shen Tingxiao smiled gently, his gaze falling to Jiang Yunzhou’s foot.

“Don’t stand barefoot—take off your shoes and get on the bed. Let me see.”

The words were a bit forward; Jiang Yunzhou blushed. “No need, it’s really fine now.”

Shen Tingxiao reached out and cupped her face, his fingertips carrying a faint medicinal scent.

“You’re my fiancée. Why are you still so reserved with me?”

She thought it over and agreed.

Jiang Yunzhou slipped off her shoes and put her feet on the bed. Bandages still wrapped her feet. Shen Tingxiao leaned in, unwinding them layer by layer, revealing blood that had seeped through.

Her delicate, fair feet were covered in small cuts.

Shen Tingxiao frowned at once.

“And you say it’s not serious! Look at this—coming all the way here injured, do you not care about your feet?”

He had plenty of medicine and bandages, so he brought them all over.

“Hey, your arm—can you use it?” Jiang Yunzhou tried to stop him.

“Sit still.”

He used tweezers to hold a cotton ball, carefully cleaning away the old medicine and blood. After drying the wounds, he applied fresh medicine to promote healing; it stung a little.

Jiang Yunzhou furrowed her brow and couldn’t help letting out a small hiss.

Shen Tingxiao, as if facing a great enemy, lowered his head and gently blew on the wound.

“All right, all right, I’ll do it myself.”

“Don’t move.”

He was utterly serious; after finishing, he wrapped the bandages snugly, neither too tight nor too loose.

“All done, really, it’s nothing. I came to visit you—how did you end up taking care of me?”

“You could always repay me.”

Jiang Yunzhou dared not touch the bandages on Shen Tingxiao’s body; his injuries were too severe for anyone but a professional doctor.

Just as they finished, the door was knocked—the maid pushed in a dining cart and spoke softly, “Young master, it’s time for your meal.”

On the cart were dozens of dishes, dazzling in their variety.

Suddenly, Shen Tingxiao let out a dramatic cry.

“Ah, my arm doesn’t seem to lift anymore. I suppose I’ll need someone to feed me.”