Jiang Ran’s expression remained calm the entire time—so calm, in fact, that it only made others more uneasy.

That unease spread at the tip of her heart, followed by anger and self-reproach.

Anger at the kitchen staff—for just a day or two without her supervision, and they already grew lax in their duties.
And self-reproach—for failing her responsibility. She knew well that with the old lord gone, the entire manor was adrift, yet she hadn’t stepped forward immediately to stabilize things.

“Lord, it was my negligence. I’ll summon the cook to prepare food right away.”

Xiaowen’s condition could not be delayed. Though Jiang Ran was furious, she only gave a flat, indifferent “Mm.”

She understood, after all—this lapse couldn’t entirely be blamed on Li Fusheng. It was he who had assisted her in handling the old lord’s funeral arrangements, overwhelmed with duties, and so had neglected the younger siblings.

But a small punishment served as a warning. “I’ve seen your diligence, Steward Li, but Nancheng and Xiaowen are the masters. What servants allow their masters to go hungry? Your wages will be docked for this month.”

Relieved it was only a month’s pay, Li Fusheng exhaled. He couldn’t help glancing at Jiang Ran again… something about her seemed different.

Was it her bearing? She felt steadier now, more composed. Though her face was still cold, her manner toward others seemed… gentler.
Had this sudden upheaval made her more mature?
Perhaps the fall of Shuling Town wasn’t so certain after all…

“By the way,” Jiang Ran paused, stopping him. “Tonight, summon all the servants of Jiang Manor, the warriors of Shuling Town, the stewards, and the chiefs of the four villages. I want to meet them.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she added: “And keep searching for Physician Wang… also, send Xiangcao to look after Xiaowen and Nancheng.”

Xiangcao was Jiang Ran’s maidservant.

Though Shuling Town was small and poor, as the designated heir the original Jiang Ran had her own personal maid. Yet neither the original nor the current Jiang Ran liked someone trailing her constantly.
Now, however, it was just right to have Xiangcao tend to the younger siblings.

“And bring that ‘injured uncle’ Jiang Yuan here as well. If he refuses, use some… persuasion.”

At the mention of Jiang Yuan, suspicion flickered in her eyes.

Li Fusheng was briefly surprised, but did not press, and soon withdrew.

Watching all this, Jiang Nancheng finally couldn’t hold back. In a timid voice he asked, “Sis… Sister, Xiaowen, she… Father, he… Will Xiaowen also…?”

As he spoke, tears brimmed again, his eyes red and swollen from long crying.

Jiang Ran winced inwardly. She had no idea how to comfort children.

The old lord’s death had struck the Jiang family—and the whole territory—hard. But the ones it wounded most deeply were his children.

She wasn’t made of stone. Seeing Nancheng’s pitiful state, she reached out and patted his head. Then, remembering he hadn’t eaten either, she searched her sleeve and only found a few pieces of candy.

Trying her best to be gentle, she placed one in his mouth, her tone softened deliberately. “Xiaowen will be fine.”

As she spoke, she guided the unfamiliar current of energy in her body through her meridians and into her hands. Her palms grew warm; a surge of power burst forth, crushing another candy into fine powder.

Mixing it into warm water, she stirred until dissolved, then carefully propped up the unconscious Xiaowen and fed her.

By instinct, Xiaowen’s throat worked—like a parched traveler finding a spring—and she swallowed eagerly.

When the cup was empty and a touch of color returned to her cheeks, Jiang Ran finally eased.

Meanwhile, Nancheng sat dumbfounded, tasting the sweetness on his tongue. His aloof eldest sister… had just stroked his head? And given him candy?

Was this really still his sister?
Yet strangely, an unfamiliar sense of safety blossomed within him.

After more coaxing—patting Xiaowen’s cheeks, pressing her acupoints—the little girl finally stirred awake from her faint.

Her eyes were hazy, her mind blank.

Though still young, she had always been more sensible than her age, even more so than her older brother Nancheng. Thinking of their father’s death, grief surged like a tide.

“Big Sis, Xiaowen’s awake,” Nancheng said quickly, his face clearing for the first time in days.

The word “Big Sis” jolted Xiaowen fully conscious.

She was weak and the least talented in cultivation, long scorned within the Jiang family. Especially in the eyes of her much-favored elder sister, who had always treated her with contempt.

From a young age, Xiaowen could never forget those bitter words:

“You shouldn’t exist. If not for you, Mother wouldn’t have died. She gave her life for you, yet you can’t even lift a sword. You’re a disgrace to the Jiang family!”

The memory returned like a slap. Her whole body broke into cold sweat, her gaze panicked—like a rabbit caught under a wolf’s stare.

Inferiority. Guilt. Fear.

“Big Sis… I—I’m sorry…” Sorry for being born. Sorry for making you unhappy.

Xiaowen was on the verge of tears.

The sight made Jiang Ran’s temples throb.

Honestly, she was at a loss too, when it came to these “bonus” siblings.

The fragments of memory told her the original Jiang Ran had been too young, too immature—fifteen years old, blaming her mother’s death on her little sister.

But what could Xiaowen have done? She hadn’t even chosen to be born.

Jiang Ran was not the original.

She felt no need to mimic the original’s cruelty. Even if she had taken over this body, she had her own pride—she wouldn’t demean herself by pretending to be someone else, nor did she need to carry forward that resentment.

Still, it would take time.

Accepting these two as siblings wouldn’t happen overnight.
But she could try.
At the very least, she did not dislike them.

Xiaowen and Nancheng froze.

Then Jiang Ran said softly: “Rest well. The kitchen will bring food soon. As for Father… don’t think too much. I won’t abandon you easily.”

She admitted to herself she was a little selfish—that’s why she said “won’t abandon easily” instead of “never will.”

As long as they didn’t become her enemies, she would not cast them aside.

But to the two children, her words struck like a shower of sweetness.

Jiang Ran looked at them—one standing at the bedside, the other sitting up—both staring at her with wide, round eyes, like stray puppies suddenly shown kindness. Their pitiful yet foolishly happy faces left her momentarily speechless.

“…”

Her expression grew complicated. She wasn’t good at this sort of thing. So she simply told Xiangcao to take care of them, and left.