Chapter 82: Jiang Chengyan Was Not Even as Good as a Rabbit

The river lay at the foot of the mountain, and with the sudden landslide from the slope, those who had been fishing in the water now scattered in panic. Bai Yan’s patience was wearing thin, but she had promised Jiang Chengyan not to reveal her unusual strength before others. So, though she had struggled with Jiang Yuan for some time and still hadn’t seen Jiang Chengyan climb out of the water, she simply grabbed Jiang Yuan and dashed toward the riverbank.

Jiang Yuan had only intended to tussle with Bai Yan for a while—if she could mess up that delicate face of hers in passing, all the better. But when Bai Yan dragged her toward the dangerous edge of the river, anxiety overwhelmed her. Without Bai Yan needing to pull her any further, she wrenched her hand free and fled in panic to Madam Qian’s side as though a wild beast were in pursuit.

By then, chaos reigned at the riverbank, and Madam Qian was nowhere to be seen.

Bai Yan looked around anxiously. Still, Jiang Chengyan had not appeared. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to plunge into the river herself.

At that moment, Father Jiang, his hands stained with blood, had just crawled up from the riverbank, and Madam Zhao was tending to him. Taking advantage of the confusion, Bai Yan dove headfirst into the river.

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Jiang Chengyan knew a landslide had occurred up the mountain. He wasn’t mingling with the crowd but was instead some distance downstream. When he heard the commotion, he was still picking water bamboo shoots.

Rabbits loved to gnaw on them, and the shoots were crisp, edible raw—he thought she would like them, so he didn’t mind spending a little extra time there.

But the commotion on the shore grew louder, and amid the noise, he thought he faintly heard his young bride’s voice.

As Jiang Chengyan swam forward, ready to come ashore, a sudden force seized him and hurled him into a soft heap of bulrushes by the riverbank.

His long fingers still gripped a handful of water bamboo shoots, but his body landed heavily in the reeds.

Jiang Chengyan did not rush to get up. Instead, he turned his head to the side, catching sight of his little wife sitting nearby, panting and out of breath.

Their gazes met, and Jiang Chengyan’s eyes darkened. He sat up, put down the bamboo shoots, and asked Bai Yan, “Did you just toss me like a stone?”

What kind of woman handled her husband so roughly?

When he’d been flung ashore, Jiang Chengyan had distinctly felt that, to her, he might as well have been a rock.

For a moment, Bai Yan seemed not to register his words.

By chance, a rabbit darted past them, fleeing for its life. Jiang Chengyan swiftly caught it and released it into a small pool by the river’s edge.

Bai Yan hadn’t quite processed Jiang Chengyan’s remark, but when she saw the rabbit fall into the river, she spun around and, almost without thinking, dove after it.

After rescuing the rabbit, she hugged it tightly, nestling its warm body in her arms, showering it with kisses and cuddles.

Jiang Chengyan fell silent.

So, in her eyes, he wasn’t even as important as a rabbit.

It seemed there were some things she needed to understand.

Jiang Chengyan stood, gathered up the bamboo shoots, and was about to come and take the rabbit from her.

Just then, Bai Yan—who had been nuzzling the white rabbit affectionately—suddenly began to shiver uncontrollably.

Jiang Chengyan instantly sensed something was wrong. He bent down, touched his forehead to hers, and found it distinctly cold.

He reached out to grab the rabbit by its ears, intending to toss it aside, but recalling the scene moments earlier, he set the rabbit down more gently this time. Then, scooping Bai Yan into his arms, he hurried back.