Two days later.

News that the Lin family was desperately seeking medical help reached Jiang Heng.

He simply smiled, saying nothing.

He knew his chance had arrived.

But he had to stay calm.

He couldn’t show even a hint of eagerness.

That evening, when the Lin family’s old butler called personally, Jiang Heng still played hard to get.

“Oh dear,” he drawled, “how unfortunate for Old Master Lin to suddenly suffer a relapse?”

He leisurely sipped his tea.

“This illness is tricky. The real problem is the medicine—it’s incredibly rare. In our area, it took over ten years to find just two usable plants.”

Casually, he let slip that *he* was the one who could cure it.

The old butler clenched his fists.

How could he miss the implication?

This was pure opportunism.

“Just state your terms, Mr. Jiang. What do you want?”

No more beating around the bush—the butler cut straight to negotiation.

Jiang Heng chuckled. “What could I want? Saving a life is worth more than building seven pagodas. Life is priceless.”

The butler snorted coldly. “As Mr. Jiang so *virtuously* says… so you’re asking for a few million?”

Jiang Heng’s smile froze.

He disliked that mocking tone.

“Sir, don’t get worked up. Let’s be clear: *you’re* the one begging *me*. Do you grasp the situation?”

“Heh, Mr. Jiang,” the butler replied calmly, “we’ve known each other for years. Must we keep up this pretense?”

Wanting to gouge a desperate patient while posing as righteous? Ridiculous.

Jiang Heng grunted. “Fine. One condition: once I cure Old Master Lin, his son Lin Chen marries my daughter, Jiang Aiyu.”

Truth was, if Old Master Lin’s condition hadn’t been so critical—if delay meant death—he wouldn’t have moved this fast.

The butler froze.

*Lin Chen marry Jiang Aiyu?*

Old Master Lin would never agree.

The Jiang family’s reputation was notoriously rotten across Yi City.

Allying with them would tarnish the entire Lin clan.

And Jiang Heng’s timing? Clearly premeditated.

What sinister motive hid behind offering his daughter?

But…

Old Master Lin’s life truly hung in their hands.

Refuse, and he’d die.

After agonizing thought, the butler dared not refuse outright. “I must consult my master first,” he said, and hung up.

…

Old Master Lin lay on his sickbed, barely clinging to life.

This episode was strange: past flare-ups left him unconscious from pain, but now his mind stayed sharp—only his body was paralyzed.

Hearing Jiang Heng’s demand, his eyes flared with fury.

Yet after a sleepless night, he closed them in weary resignation.

Survival came first.

*Love is precious, but life is dearer.*

Lin Chen was still a good-for-nothing scoundrel. If he died, the Lin family would collapse.

Better to let his son endure this hardship.

*Live first. Deal with the rest later.*

He authorized the butler to accept Jiang Heng’s terms.

Two more days passed before the news reached Lin Chen.

Jiang Aiyu arrived at the Lin residence, medical kit in hand.

Lin Chen glanced at her—his heart gave a slight flutter.

*Well… she’s undeniably gorgeous.*

But her actions snapped him right out of it.

Jiang Aiyu seemed to have had “smile nerves” surgically removed. Perpetually stone-faced.

And she loved bossing him around.

In half an hour? Over ten orders.

On the eleventh, Lin Chen snapped.

“What’s your problem? This is *my* house! How dare you boss the master around?”

Jiang Aiyu stared back, utterly blank.

No rebuttal. No mercy.

Her gaze made him deeply uncomfortable—almost creepy.

“Jiang Aiyu,” he muttered, “I’ll remember this.”

His threats had grown pathetically weak lately.

Grumbling, he stomped downstairs.

“Crush these, please,” she said, tossing him a bundle of herbs. “Also, I’m thirsty. Brew me a cup of Longjing tea.”

Lin Chen ground his teeth.

*Damn it.*

No woman had ever treated him like this.

He’d thought Meng Wanyu was harsh—but Jiang Aiyu was ten thousand times worse.

Thanks to her, Meng Wanyu suddenly seemed… almost tolerable.

Outside the door, the old butler sighed inwardly.

Even an old man like him saw it: these two were utterly incompatible.

If this marriage proceeded… tragedy was inevitable.

…

After the first treatment, Old Master Lin’s complexion visibly improved.

Dejected, Lin Chen drank heavily at the banquet.

Once the butler saw guests off, Lin Chen slipped out the window and wandered the streets.

“Marrying Jiang Aiyu? I’d rather marry Su Qiaoman.”

His heart ached.

Su Qiaoman wouldn’t boss him around, touch his things, or scheme after Lin assets.

The difference was glaring.

Lost in thought, he found himself near the Su residence.

Gate locked. No lights inside. Empty.

*Where’d she go? She has no close girlfriends…*

Wait.

She *did* have a childhood friend.

Lu Chengzhou!

A familiar wave of jealousy washed over him.

*Is she at his place?*

He called Lu Chengzhou—no answer.

Then Su Qiaoman. Ten rings later—

Lu Chengzhou’s voice answered.

“Hello, you—”

“Lu Chengzhou! Why do *you* have Su Qiaoman’s phone?” Lin Chen cut in sharply.

Silence.

“Trying to cook up a lie?”

Tipsy and frustrated, Lin Chen could only shout.

Lu Chengzhou stroked his chin. *How do I explain I found it outside my door? Screen chipped and all…*

“Forget it,” Lin Chen sighed from a roadside flower bed. Alcohol loosened his tongue. “If you like her… take her. Sigh. I’m engaged to Jiang Aiyu now. No freedom left…”