Sang Wenyin even forgot to cover up and blurted out: "Practicing calligraphy?! Doesn't his hands say..."
She didn't finish her words, but everyone understood what she meant - her hands were useless, so how could she learn to write?
Who are you pretending for?!
"Miss Sang!" Xu's face instantly darkened, as if covered with a layer of frost.
Madam Sang was terrified. She hurriedly stepped forward and tugged at her daughter's sleeve. "Wenyin! What nonsense are you talking about! The prince is extremely talented. Even after recovering from his injuries, it would be good for him to practice calligraphy and calm his mind!"
She wanted to shut her daughter's mouth and looked at the door nervously, afraid that the people inside would hear it.
Jiang Songyi looked coldly at Sang Wenyin's face which was full of doubt and contempt.
This woman, pregnant with Liao Lingxi's illegitimate child, questioned her brother in such a harsh tone. What right did she have?
"Miss Sang, you're wrong." Jiang Songyi's voice was low, but clear and cold. "My brother is the legitimate son of the Marquisate, crowned Crown Prince by the imperial court. Even if his right hand is truly disabled," she emphasized the last few words, "inheriting the title, being granted a civil service position, and serving the country is the right path. What does this have to do with his health?"
Her eyes were like lightning, staring straight at Sang Wenyin, forcing her to answer the question - what do you despise, the so-called "disability" or the identity of the Prince of Yongding?
Sang Wenyin was choked by the question.
Of course, she couldn't say openly that she completely disliked Jiang Jinzhao as a person, disliked him for being useless, and disliked him for having no talent or future.
"Hmph," Sang Wenyin twitched her nostrils slightly, letting out a sneer of disdain. "The county lady does know how to inherit her ancestors' influence. It's a pity that the way they gained this influence was just to rely on their merits and enjoy a position without doing anything! Otherwise, how could the county lady, knowing that her concubine was colluding with the concubine's son and the illegitimate son in an attempt to usurp the title, only to use her status as a princess to forcibly suppress Jiang Yuyao, who came from a humble family?"
She thought of her beloved Liao Lang being held back by that "title" and unable to take her away immediately, and her words were filled with bitter resentment. "The county lady only sees family background, how can she understand the hardships of the poor students who study hard and strive to make progress!"
Her words were directed at Jiang Songyi, as if accusing Jiang Songyi of ignoring the poor could cover up her contempt for Jiang Jinzhao's ruined future and the evil child she was carrying.
Jiang Songyi sneered in his heart.
Sang Wenyin's mention of Liao Lingxi and the title of Marquis confirmed her thoughts.
"Miss Sang's concern for the disadvantaged students is truly admirable." Jiang Songyi's tone was unusually calm, unhurried. "But I wonder if among the disadvantaged students Miss Sang protects, if someone would stoop to low status and have an affair with a noblewoman, even causing her to get pregnant before they're even married, thereby defiling her innocence, would Miss Sang also consider such behavior to be 'hard work and striving for progress'?"
Jiang Songyi spoke the last four words one by one, his voice was not loud, but each word was like a heavy hammer, hitting Sang Wenyin's heart hard.
"You--!" All the blood in Sang Wenyin's body suddenly rushed to her head, and then disappeared completely with a bang.
Mrs. Xu was standing aside, listening to her daughter's heart-wrenching words and watching Sang Wenyin's expression change drastically in an instant. The surging anger and huge hatred in her chest almost exploded.
This bitch! She and Liao Lingxi are indeed pregnant...
The courtyard was dead silent, and you could hear a pin drop.
Jiang Jinzhao slumped dejectedly into the large armchair.
Great sorrow and unbearable dull pain wrapped around his left shoulder and broken arm, and cold sweat soaked his temples.
On the huge rosewood desk in front of him was a piece of snow-white rice paper. On the paper were some crooked blobs of ink that he had just tried to write with great difficulty using a brush held in his left hand and dipped in thick ink.
There was no structure, no shape. Only a few strokes of the brush, pressed down with all his might, left behind a few shiny black dots on the paper.
The imperial examination, fame, ambition—everything had gone to waste. He didn't even dare to think about the upcoming wedding—the Marquis's residence had made no preparations, and the Sang family hadn't said anything either.
At this moment, the faint sound of an argument outside passed through the door and drifted into his ears intermittently -
Jiang Jinzhao stood up suddenly, and the movement affected the injured area. The severe pain made his forehead instantly covered with cold sweat, but he ignored it.
Fiancées? What were they doing here? Were they really here to break off the engagement? Or were they bringing with them a humiliation even colder than breaking off the engagement?
Jiang Jinzhao's heart felt like it was being gripped by an ice-cold hand, squeezing it painfully.
In the study, the smell of medicine faded and was replaced by the new scent of ink.
Jiang Jinzhao, wearing his coat, sat at his desk by the window. He put down his newly dipped pen, stood up, and politely bowed to Madam Sang and her daughter Sang Wenyin as they entered.
"Hello, Mrs. Sang, Miss Sang." His voice was clear, and apart from his slightly pale face, there was nothing unusual in his movements.
Madam Sang wore a polite smile, but a subtle scrutiny lingered in her eyes. She glanced at Jiang Jinzhao's right hand, which hung by his side, obscured by his sleeve, and spoke with concern, "Prince, there's no need to be so polite. Sit down quickly. Is your injury feeling better? This hand...what did the imperial physician say?"
She took two steps forward, as if trying to see more clearly.
Jiang Jinzhao sat down as instructed, tucking his injured arm slightly into his sleeve. His expression remained calm. "Thank you, Madam, for your concern. I'll just take care of it. The imperial physician said that the bones and muscles are damaged, and recovery will take time. There's no rush."
He paused, then added in a flat voice, "I'm afraid I won't be able to take the imperial examination this autumn."
"Alas..." Madam Sang suddenly revealed an expression of deep regret, her brows slightly furrowed, and a long sigh seemed to overflow from the bottom of her heart, with a feeling of the impermanence of life, "To have delayed this grand talent selection ceremony? What a pity! What a pity!"
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