When Jiang Lan awoke again, it was the morning of the third day.
Several piercing rays of sunlight shone through the window, making it hard for him to open his eyes. A moment passed before the fog in his mind began to lift and his consciousness returned.
'It's not so bad when it's dormant, but a flare-up is absolute hell...'
He tried to sit up in bed, only to find his body completely drained of strength. His limbs felt as if they were filled with lead—sore, heavy, and utterly unresponsive to his commands.
It felt... as if he had toiled for three days and three nights straight, his very essence depleted.
Of course, delaying the onset of this illness actually required constant overexertion to keep the body in a perpetual state of deficiency.
The moment his Essence Blood was even slightly replenished, an attack would not be far behind.
'It's been over half a month since this body's previous owner was last with a woman...'
'Looking at it that way, I was the one who was careless. An attack every half-month is to be expected.'
Jiang Lan slowly exhaled, the taste of blood thick in his throat.
His chest felt as if it were filled with clots of blood, and a sharp pain radiated from his heart.
He finally understood why, in his memories, his predecessor had feared this "illness" so much, even considering it a fate worse than death.
Having now experienced it firsthand, Jiang Lan completely understood.
It was a sensation as if every meridian and muscle in his body were convulsing violently.
The blood pumping from his heart felt as if it were being violently sucked back from every one of his internal organs.
And yet, throughout this process, his consciousness became even sharper than usual.
This caused the agony to be amplified hundreds of times over in an instant.
Tsk, tsk...
'Even the Ten Great Tortures were probably nothing more than this.'
Jiang Lan could only sympathize with what his predecessor had endured for so many years. Now, however, it was his turn to suffer.
The silver lining was that during the attack, Jiang Lan could clearly feel his predecessor's many memories surging into him like a flood—or to be more precise, a baptism.
Previously, whenever he had looked through his predecessor's memories, there had always been a sense of detachment, as if he were watching another person's life from a third-person perspective.
This had always left him with a vague feeling of alienation, as if he were the Jiang Lan of his past life, not this one.
Whether he had awakened past-life memories or been reincarnated through transmigration, he was still the man from his previous life.
But now, this baptism by the flood of memories had allowed him to integrate completely into his current life.
Jiang Lan could distinctly feel his soul and memories merging into one, a perfect and seamless union.
He was Jiang Lan, and Jiang Lan was him. There was no longer any difference between the two.
It was, in a way, a blessing in disguise born from the affliction.
"Young Master Jiang, you're awake?"
The door to his room was suddenly pushed open, and a cool, clear voice, tinged with surprise, called out.
Su Qinghan, dressed in a snow-white gown, walked in carrying a basin of fresh water with a towel draped over the edge.
"You've been taking care of me these past few days?"
Jiang Lan was surprised for a moment but quickly regained his composure.
'So Su Qinghan didn't return to the Su Mansion. The fact that she's been here all this time is a little unexpected.'
"That night, you suddenly lost consciousness for some reason, Young Master Jiang. Fortunately, your saber-wielding guard noticed in time and brought you back to your room..."
"I had intended to return to the Su Mansion, but the maids at the City Lord's Mansion are clumsy and timid, so I had no choice but to stay behind."
Su Qinghan set the basin of water aside.
Seeing that he was trying to sit up, she stepped forward to support him and explained.
"I see. I must have frightened you that night, Miss Su."
Jiang Lan smiled and sat up in bed with Su Qinghan's help.
A faint, pleasant fragrance reached his nose. Because Su Qinghan was leaning over to help him, he caught a glimpse of the delicate, fair skin of her neck, as flawless and lustrous as jade.
After a moment, however, Jiang Lan averted his gaze.
Su Qinghan noticed his action and paused, only then realizing that the distance between them had become rather close.
She had been by his side taking care of him while he was unconscious for the past two days, so she had gradually grown accustomed to such proximity.
A barely perceptible blush appeared on her fair, flawless cheeks, and she gently took a step back to put some distance between them.
"The situation was urgent, and I was impolite. I hope you don't mind, Young Master Jiang…"
Su Qinghan lowered her gaze, her apology soft. She then went to the nearby copper basin to wet the towel.
'She remembered that Jiang Lan was a mysophobe. Back at the Snow Moon Pavilion, he had merely brushed against her, yet he had immediately wiped his hands with a piece of silk.'
'He must have been incredibly uncomfortable with them being so close just now...'
Still, Su Qinghan found it strange and novel. He could put on the façade of a lecher, seemingly ready to take liberties with her at any moment, yet at his core, he resisted any actual contact.
The more she interacted with him, the more she was left at a loss. Faintly, she was beginning to feel that Jiang Lan wasn't as intimidating as he first appeared.
Jiang Lan simply shook his head at her words.
'He knew what she was thinking, but he had no intention of explaining. After all, her jumping to these conclusions was precisely the result he had orchestrated.'
'This mysophobia, however, was indeed related to his "illness."'
His predecessor had indulged in a life of debauchery. To outsiders, it looked like he was a lecher, but the real reason was simply to alleviate and suppress the onset of his illness.
Over time, his predecessor grew to loathe this lifestyle, developing a severe case of mysophobia as a result.
This mysophobia was so severe that he would feel overwhelming disgust upon seeing any woman with whom he had previously been intimate.
"There's no need to trouble yourself, Miss Su. I'll do it myself."
Seeing Su Qinghan wet the towel, as if to wipe his face for him, Jiang Lan hesitated for a moment before taking it from her hands.
'It wasn't because of his mysophobia; after the fusion of memories, he didn't actually care much about being clean.'
'But an act had to be convincing. He could work on getting rid of this 'flaw' later.'
'It seemed that because of their late-night conversation and his subsequent collapse, Su Qinghan had grown inexplicably closer to him. She was even taking the initiative to care for him as a handmaiden would.'
'It seems the old saying is true: only through ploys can one win a person's heart.'
"You've only just recovered, Young Master Jiang. I'll go and have the City Lord's Mansion prepare some medicinal food…"
Seeing Jiang Lan's obviously "reluctant" expression as she tried to care for him, the corners of Su Qinghan's lips curled into a slight, fleeting smile.
"There's no need for medicinal food. I'll just get up and walk around a bit. That should be enough for me to recover."
Jiang Lan shook his head, wiping his face with the damp towel. His mind felt much clearer now.
'His illness wasn't something that could be fixed with medicinal food.'
'If he ate something too nourishing and replenished his essence and blood, it would probably trigger another attack.'