The next day, Ye Mingxuan woke up close to ten o’clock. Startled, he couldn’t believe he’d slept so long.
Lately, he’d been sleeping later and later each day, his body growing increasingly weak. Just like now—he sat up wearily, his head spinning. He rested on the bed for a moment before finally managing to climb out.
Tan Sizhe wasn’t beside him; he seemed to have left early. A note lay quietly on the bedside table.
Ye Mingxuan bent down to pick it up, reading Tan Sizhe’s bold, vigorous handwriting: “After waking, go downstairs for breakfast. Just look for Uncle Ma.”
He folded the note neatly, went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He reached up and pinched a bit of his cheek.
Why did he feel a little fatter than yesterday?
“…”
Ye Mingxuan dared not look too closely. He dried his face and walked out.
The weather was bright today. The sun cast colorful halos through the window. After breakfast, Ye Mingxuan lay on the table basking in the sunlight. As he squinted and was about to drift back to sleep, he faintly heard sounds coming from the back garden.
It was Zhao Dongxuan’s feigned sobbing.
“…” Ye Mingxuan’s head ached the moment he recognized Zhao Dongxuan’s voice. Wondering what trouble she’d caused now, he walked to the back garden to investigate.
Zhao Dongxuan and Old Master Tan were drinking tea under the garden pavilion.
Covering her face as she wept, Zhao Dongxuan said, “When we learned Mingxuan was our long-lost youngest son, we couldn’t bear to let him suffer in the countryside. We decided to bring him back.”
The pavilion’s roll-up curtains swayed in the breeze. Old Master Tan looked sorrowful as he pulled a tissue and handed it to Zhao Dongxuan. “It’s alright. It’s wonderful that our family is reunited.”
Zhao Dongxuan took it and wiped her nose. “That’s exactly what we were thinking.”
“But Mingxuan comes from the countryside. He has many bad habits, and we find it quite troublesome.”
“This child may seem innocent, but in reality…”
Old Master Tan: “I know, I know.”
Zhao Dongxuan’s eyes lit up: “You know?”
Old Master Tan: “Of course. Mingxuan seems innocent, but in reality…”
Zhao Dongxuan: “In reality…”
Old Master Tan: “…he’s also very innocent.”
Zhao Dongxuan: “?”
Old Master Tan reassured her: “I know Mingxuan endured many hardships before, but it’s all right. Once he marries into our family, he won’t suffer anymore.”
Zhao Dongxuan nearly choked on her tea: “But…”
Hearing Zhao Dongxuan spin a tale without batting an eye, Ye Mingxuan was genuinely stunned. He stumbled on a step, swayed, and only steadied himself by grabbing a nearby tree to avoid falling.
Old Master Tan heard the commotion, turned, and exclaimed in surprise, “Mingxuan, come sit down!”
Ye Mingxuan glanced at Zhao Dongxuan’s sour expression and cautiously approached: “Grandfather.”
Old Master Tan affectionately pulled him closer, examining the palm of his hand. “Look at Mingxuan’s hands—clearly from hard labor. It’s too much toil.”
Ye Mingxuan opened his mouth but couldn’t speak.
A wave of overwhelming guilt washed over him.
Grandpa Tan was a kind man who had never once raised his voice at him.
But what about him? He had deceived the Tan family alongside Zhao Dongxuan’s family.
Zhao Dongxuan spun lies effortlessly, but what made him any different?
The wind died instantly, cutting off the chirping insects. The air grew thick and stifling.
Ye Mingxuan pressed his lips together, wanting to speak, but meeting Zhao Dongxuan’s warning gaze, he lowered his head. His mind buzzed, and dizziness gradually washed over him.
Zhao Dongxuan glanced at him, her smile neither warm nor cold. “Why did you sleep in so late, Mingxuan? It’s quite improper to rise so late when visiting someone else’s home.”
Old Master Tan patted Ye Mingxuan’s hand. “It’s fine. This is your home. Sleep in as late as you like.”
Zhao Dongxuan clenched her teacup, saying nothing more.
Old Master Tan asked Ye Mingxuan, “Have you had breakfast?”
Ye Mingxuan: “I have.”
“Sizhe is in his office. You can go find him.”
“Mhm.”
Ye Mingxuan nodded, bid Old Master Tan farewell, and entered his room. The dizziness hadn’t subsided. He tapped his head, hoping to silence the ringing in his ears.
With some time before lunch, Ye Mingxuan didn’t want to disturb Tan Sizhe in his office and decided to stay in his room.
The sun climbed higher, its rays slanting through the windows and flooding the old mansion’s corridors with light.
Ye Mingxuan took a few steps and encountered Ye Yufan coming toward him.
Ye Yufan had just emerged from a room, holding a Russian nesting doll he was playing with.
Spotting Ye Mingxuan, Ye Yufan paused and stepped in front of him.
Ye Mingxuan’s eyelashes fluttered. He tried to move past, but Ye Yufan blocked his path again.
“…Young Master,” Ye Mingxuan murmured.
Ye Yufan crossed his arms. “You still remember I’m the young master?”
“Anyone unaware would think this place truly belongs to you.”
He sneered coldly. “Don’t forget—your true identity is nothing more than a servant.”
Ye Mingxuan’s pupils flinched. He lowered his eyelids. “I know.”
Ye Yufan tossed the Russian nesting doll in his hand to Ye Mingxuan. “Hold this. I’m going to browse around here.”
Ye Mingxuan caught it, the clatter of Ye Yufan’s chatter ringing in his ears. His head spun even more than before, acid rising in his stomach. He gagged but managed not to vomit.
Ye Yufan took a few steps before turning back to see Ye Mingxuan rooted to the spot. He urged, “Hurry up! Do I have to treat you too?”
Ye Mingxuan pressed his temples, shook his head, and followed.
Ye Yufan was clearly here to stock up. Every time they entered a room, he grabbed something and handed it to Ye Mingxuan.
Before long, Ye Mingxuan’s arms were laden with items. He pursed his lips and cautioned, “Young Master, isn’t taking all this a bit… inappropriate?”
Ye Yufan snapped, “Shut up. There’s so much stuff here, they won’t notice a few things missing.”
Ye Mingxuan protested, “But…”
Ye Yufan: “You’re my household servant. You obey me.”
Ye Mingxuan watched Ye Yufan head toward the music room.
The music room…
Ye Mingxuan’s eyes widened.
His mind flashed back to that antique piano. Just yesterday morning, he and his master had sat before it, the latter teaching him to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
And Ye Yufan was about to enter that room, touching or even damaging anything inside—including that piano.
Without a moment’s hesitation, just as Ye Yufan’s hand reached for the doorknob, Ye Mingxuan set down what he was holding and rushed forward to block the way.
“Young Master, please go explore somewhere else.”
Ye Yufan: “…Are you kidding me? Are you giving me orders?”
Ye Mingxuan cleared his throat softly: “No, Young Master. There’s nothing interesting to see here.”
Ye Yufan: “You think I’d believe that? Move aside.”
Ye Mingxuan: “This is the piano room! Everything inside is very expensive. You shouldn’t touch it.”
“Piano room?” Hearing the word “piano room” piqued Ye Yufan’s interest. “It’s just a piano room. What’s the harm in me touching it?”
Ajin, who had been napping on the carpet, was awakened by the commotion. He lifted his head and slowly wagged his tail.
Before the piano room, Ye Mingxuan hesitated before speaking: “What if… what if you break something…”
“Ye Mingxuan,” Ye Yufan interrupted impatiently, “Do you really think you’re the Mrs. Tan? Do you get to decide what happens here?”
Ye Mingxuan shook his head, his mind growing hazier. His body swayed slightly, but he didn’t move aside.
He couldn’t think clearly, yet his body stood rigid as a statue, blocking the way.
Ye Yufan snapped, “Then why are you standing here whining? Move!”
Ye Mingxuan didn’t budge. Ye Yufan, exasperated, shoved him aside. Ye Mingxuan swayed twice.
Ye Yufan grabbed the doorknob, ready to open the door, when suddenly a dull thud sounded behind him.
He turned to see Ye Mingxuan, pale-faced, collapse to the floor.
Then, a golden figure leaped forward.
A Jin: “Woof woof woof!!!”
Ye Yufan: “!!!”……
Lunchtime. Everyone stood at the bedroom door. Ye Xiangkai grabbed Ye Yufan by the collar and pulled him close. “What happened? Didn’t we agree to keep things under control? What did you do?”
Ye Yufan mumbled, “Nothing much.”
Ye Xiangkai: “Nothing much? Then why did Mingxuan faint?”
Ye Yufan: “How should I know? I just gave him a very, very light push.”
Tan Sizhe sat beside the bed where Ye Mingxuan lay pale, his forehead beaded with fine sweat. His eyes were closed, clearly uncomfortable.
Doctors and nurses bustled in and out, taking Ye Mingxuan’s temperature and blood pressure.
“Mr. Tan,” the doctor addressed him, “could you please ask the family to step out so we can examine the patient?”
Tan Sizhe nodded. “Thank you for your help.”
Seeing Tan Sizhe emerge, Old Master Tan asked with concern, “What did the doctor say?”
Tan Sizhe replied, “They need to run tests to determine if it was caused by external injury or something else.”
His gaze shifted to Ye Yufan, who looked guilty.
Zhao Dongxuan immediately stepped forward: “Mr. Tan, this must be a misunderstanding. Yufan only gave Mingxuan a light push.”
Tan Sizhe: “Light?”
Ye Yufan avoided Tan Sizhe’s eyes: “…Yes.”
Tan Sizhe: “Say that again.”
Ye Yufan’s expression froze. He clenched his fists and, adopting a “what’s the point” attitude, declared: “I admit I pushed him hard, but it wasn’t enough to knock Ye Mingxuan unconscious!”
Zhao Dongxuan chimed in: “Right, right, right. With Yufan’s strength, there’s no way he could have knocked Ye Mingxuan to the ground.”
“This… this must be Ye Mingxuan staging it himself!”
Zhao Dongxuan: “Think about it, Mr. Tan. How could a perfectly healthy person faint from just one push?”
“Heatstroke? The mansion’s air conditioning is cranked up—impossible.”
“Hypoglycemia? Even less likely. The Tan family has never shortchanged him on food.”
“The only possibility is that Ye Mingxuan is faking it.”
She knew Ye Mingxuan’s constitution well. He’d done physical labor year-round through all seasons without ever fainting.
Even when exhausted to the point of not being able to stand straight, he’d just sit down and rest for a bit. He wasn’t the type to faint so easily.
His mother, Liu Yan, was more likely to faint.
That bastard Ye Mingxuan dared to play them for fools. Zhao Dongxuan wanted to tear him limb from limb.
Today, she would expose Ye Mingxuan’s true colors!
“If you don’t believe me, I can go in and pinch him. I guarantee he’ll wake up!”
Zhao Dongxuan started to storm inside but was stopped by Uncle Ma.
“Mrs. Ye, Mingxuan is still resting in there. Don’t disturb the patient,” Uncle Ma said sternly. “As for whether Mr. Mingxuan is faking it, let the doctor examine him.”
Zhao Dongxuan yanked her hand free from Uncle Ma’s grip and flicked it dismissively. “Fine, let the doctor check. If he’s not faking it, I’ll eat my words!”
“Oh no! Oh no!”
The moment Zhao Dongxuan finished speaking, the bedroom door swung open. The attending physician rushed out, his expression frantic as if confronting a career-defining crisis: “This is bad!”
Tan Sizhe’s face darkened as he entered the room. Ye Mingxuan lay in a deep sleep, his complexion not as poor as before.
“What’s going on?” Tan Sizhe asked the doctor.
After exchanging a few words with the nurses and reaching a consensus, the doctor addressed them: “Mr. Tan, please have all family members come inside. The patient’s condition is quite complex, and I need to brief you all on the situation.”
Zhao Dongxuan: “What do you mean?”
Ye Mingxuan isn’t faking unconsciousness? Impossible!
She pointed at the doctor: “Did Ye Mingxuan collude with you?”
“Don’t lie to me! I’m telling you, if you lie, I’ll file a complaint against you!”
“What collusion?” The doctor held up three fingers. “I swear on my 5+3 diploma, degree certificate, practice license, physician qualification certificate, and residency training certificate—every word I say is true.”
Old Master Tan tapped his cane impatiently. “Speak.”
Doctor: “He…”
“Ahem, ahem.” Ye Mingxuan coughed several times.
The conversation halted as all eyes turned to the figure in the bed. Ye Mingxuan had opened his eyes, weakly looking at them.
Tan Sizhe walked to the bedside and sat down: “Mingxuan?”
Ye Mingxuan: “Sir…”
Tan Sizhe: “Sit up.”
He helped Ye Mingxuan sit upright, propping him against the soft pillows.
Ye Mingxuan pulled the blanket up to cover his navel, his dazed eyes scanning the crowd gathered at the bedside before settling on the doctor in the white coat.
He had overheard fragments of their conversation in his sleep.
The doctor said it was complicated. Was it something wrong with him? What had the doctor discovered?
“Doctor, what’s wrong with me?”
The doctor’s hesitant expression unsettled Ye Mingxuan.
What illness could be so severe that even the doctor hesitated to name it?
Could it be… terminal?
