Nobody said that teachers at elite academies have to be heartthrobs.

Jiang Lianqing felt as if an invisible hand was gripping her throat.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His mind was buzzing, and those few words seemed to have taken root and were growing wildly in his mind—the Duke of Cornwall's only son, who drugged and raped women, not out of consent.

What did he just say?

"Just another drug addict playing around with his own stuff"? "He's just a college teacher"?

He even praised Jiang Yu in his heart for "making progress".

Jiang Lianqing now just wants to slap herself twice for what she did two minutes ago, and then slap Jiang Yu twice as well.

What kind of beastly things are these?

His gaze slowly lowered, landing on the open file folder on the coffee table. The dense text pierced his eyes like knives, each line silently mocking him: Look at what your brother did, look at the face you had just made.

He suddenly remembered Yunbai's words.

"She is someone I have liked for a long time, someone I am willing to spend my whole life pursuing."

At the time, he thought it was just a young man's wishful thinking, but now he realizes that the solemnity in his tone and the seriousness in his eyes were clearly telling him: This person is not to be messed with.

If it were someone else sitting here today, if the person who was drugged were someone else's sweetheart, Jiang Lianqing would probably just sneer, say "serves you right," and then go about his business.

But today, it's Yunbai sitting here. And the one who was drugged...

Jiang Lianqing closed his eyes.

Duke Cornworth, one of the most formidable figures in the Empire. Although he has long since departed from the center of power, like a dragon returning to its abyss, even without soaring through the clouds, his lingering influence is enough to silence the world.

Moreover, given the special relationship between the other party and the Queen, making a big fuss about it would be a huge disaster.

An only son, the sole heir. His younger brother almost...

A thin layer of sweat had already seeped out of Jiang Lianqing's back.

He could already foresee the outcome of this incident escalating—the Yun family and the royal family would join forces, the power structure of the four major families would be reshuffled, and his political enemies would swarm in like sharks smelling blood.

The Jiang family ranks third among the four major families, slightly stronger than the Wen family, which ranks last. Of course, don't misunderstand; the Wen family's decline is purely due to the incompetence of the current patriarch and internal conflicts within the family.

Speaking of which, he also secretly pulled some strings in the Wen family's matter.

But that advantage is utterly insignificant in the face of such a situation.

After a long while, he opened his eyes and looked at Yunbai.

His face remained expressionless, aloof and indifferent, as if covered by a thin layer of frost. But Jiang Lianqing suddenly felt that she could understand what lay beneath that indifference. It wasn't haughty arrogance, but restraint suppressing anger, and forbearance that prevented her from taking direct action out of consideration for their years of friendship.

"..."

He moved his lips, as if he wanted to say something. An apology? An explanation? A plea for mercy?

But the words stuck in my throat. They rolled around on my tongue, then I swallowed them back down, leaving only a bitter taste in my mouth.

Yunbai looked at him and suddenly chuckled softly. The chuckle was very soft, but it sent chills down one's spine.

"Patriarch Jiang," he began, his voice still indifferent, "now you know fear?"

Jiang Lianqing did not speak.

He had nothing to say.

He wanted to kill Jiang Yu.

No, he doesn't need to kill Jiang Yu; they should all die together.

Yunbai stood up, calmly straightened her cuffs, and looked down at him. There was no anger or mockery in her gaze, only an indescribable sense of detachment.

"I promised someone I would get Jiang Yu home safely," he said. "And I did."

He paused, then didn't continue.

Jiang Lianqing understood the unfinished words.

As for other matters, they are not within the scope of this commitment.

He watched Yunbai turn and walk out, watched Mo Yi silently follow, and watched the group of men in black retreat like a receding tide. The reception room fell silent again, so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat.

Jiang Lianqing sat there, motionless for a long time.

The document on the coffee table was still open, like a wound that hadn't yet begun to hurt.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the mess on the floor.

Jiang Lianqing sat on the sofa, remaining motionless for a long time.

"Someone come here."

His voice suddenly rang out, hoarse and unlike his own.

The head steward immediately poked his head in from outside the door.

"Investigate," Jiang Lianqing said. "Find out exactly what happened at the hot spring hotel that day, from beginning to end, in detail."

He paused, then added, "Has Wen Ren'an arrived yet?"

"There's still a while," the head steward cautiously observed Jiang Lianqing's expression, thinking he had guessed her thoughts correctly, and quickly continued, "Is the head of the family worried about the young master's injuries? Don't worry, the doctors are doing their best to treat him, the young master will definitely be safe and sound—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Jiang Lianqing's face was darkening at a visible speed, like dark clouds suddenly gathering in June, pressing down heavily and making it hard to breathe.

The chief steward's voice grew lower and weaker, and the last word got stuck in his throat and he swallowed it back down.

He didn't know what he had said wrong, but his instincts as the head steward told him: shut up, shut up immediately.

The reception room was silent for a few seconds.

Then Jiang Lianqing spoke, squeezing out each word through clenched teeth, "Heh..."

"rule."

"Give me a proper treatment."

He paused, a cold smile curving his lips into an icy grin: "Healed? I'll kill him."

The chief steward's legs buckled, and he almost lost his balance.

Having served the head of the family for so many years, this was the first time he had ever heard him say the word "kill" in such a tone—especially to his most indulgent younger brother.

Jiang Lianqing didn't look at him; her gaze fell on the corner, where Jiang Yu had been lying when he was unconscious. Her expression was complex and hard to describe.

He was just thinking that Jiang Yu's poor judgment was actually a good thing. At least a stupid person can't do anything too terrible; at most, they'll just cause some minor trouble, which can be settled with some money.

But now he understands—it's not that he's afraid of stupid people who are as dumb as pigs, it's that he's afraid of stupid people who suddenly have a brilliant idea.

Jiang Yu's sudden inspiration almost killed him, her older brother.

The Duke of Cornwall's only son.

To administer the medicine.

Rape of women.

These words swirled in his mind, and with each swirling thought, his blood pressure spiked.

He took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

"Keep an eye on him," he said to the head steward, his tone eerily calm. "Notify me immediately when he wakes up."

The chief steward nodded repeatedly, not daring to ask a single question.

Jiang Lianqing turned and walked out, but stopped abruptly at the door. "Oh, right."

He turned around and instructed, "After Wen Qiaoan arrives, have him take my pulse first."

"My blood pressure is a little high right now."