1.13 Jia Min: Without you, I truly don’t know what I would do.

Volume One

1.13 Jia Min: Without You, I Truly Don’t Know What I Would Do

Lin Rui had scaled the wall to enter the back garden, where the fire in the backyard still raged unabated.

Curiously, despite the towering flames, no rescue had arrived so far.

But he could no longer concern himself with that, for there were far more pressing matters.

“Anping has arrived?” As soon as he entered the heated pavilion, Jia Min, who had been pacing anxiously, quickly turned and stepped before him. “How is it out there now? I can’t even hear a sound. Is something wrong...?”

“Madam!” Lin Rui interrupted hurriedly. After a brief hesitation, he chose to speak plainly. “Please, you must restrain your grief. Uncle is likely... I have already arranged for people to handle the aftermath. There are further matters to attend to, so for now, everything must be put aside.”

Jia Min stiffened all over, then slowly sank down in exhaustion. “Is that so?”

“Master Rui, the master really has—” Unanticipated presence caused him to cut off mid-sentence. “Dead?”

“Is that you?” Lin Rui then noticed a woman kneeling in the corner—the concubine from the west wing who had fled earlier. No wonder he hadn’t seen her when rescuing Jia Min; she had gone straight to the back garden.

Only now did he realize the main hall was unlit, relying solely on the firelight from the back courtyard to illuminate the room—a brightness that was glaring but cast everything in confusing shadows.

Lin Rui frowned slightly and approached without hesitation, grabbing the woman by the neck.

A sickening crack sounded as the concubine’s body went limp and collapsed to the floor.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jia Min merely glanced up, her voice chillingly calm.

“I initially saved her, sending her to rescue the one in the east wing,” Lin Rui explained after tossing the body into the fire. “But given the circumstances, it’s better she dies now to prevent future trouble.”

“Is that so?” Jia Min frowned. “Very well.”

Given her background and status, she could hardly be ignorant of such matters.

Lin Rui was different. The reason he acted was primarily because keeping her alive posed a risk.

Tonight’s assassination attempt had almost wiped out the entire Lin family. Aside from himself and this beautiful woman, there was only... he suddenly remembered—after rescuing Madame Wang, he had left her in the back courtyard. Now, with the towering flames, that rescue might have been in vain.

The rest were family members, so there was no worry about rumors. Even though the concubine probably knew nothing, ordinary people might have been spared, but why keep such useless scum who let others die?

“What about Miss Lin?” He suddenly stood up, tense.

Only now did he realize he hadn’t seen his sister anywhere all this time!

“I searched every corner of the garden,” Jia Min said, tears falling as she spoke.

“Impossible, absolutely impossible!” Lin Rui’s face turned grim, his mind blank as if struck, before he finally responded. “Madam, you said you searched the entire back garden? Are there any spots usually avoided?”

“Places not usually visited—” Jia Min’s eyes sharpened. “Right, I remember now. There’s the ice cellar in the northeast corner. That girl hates both cold and heat and has even been known to hide there on the hottest days, wrapped in a quilt. She must have gone there, absolutely must have!”

They wasted no time and rushed straight to the ice cellar.

Fortunately, or else it might already have been too late.

The so-called “ice cellar” was, as the name suggests, a place where wealthy families of the feudal era stored ice blocks—collected in winter and used in summer, serving as a refrigerator or cold storage.

As soon as they opened the hatch, a blast of cold air startled them. Lin Rui immediately stopped Jia Min from rushing inside and leapt down several steps himself. Finding no light, he pulled out a tinderbox and lit it.

Luckily, the cellar was small. The faint glow was enough to reveal two small figures huddled in the corner, wrapped together in a brocade quilt for warmth.

But they were clearly suffering from hypothermia—their eyebrows and hair frosted with ice crystals!

Lin Rui ignored everything else, tossed the tinderbox outside, and rushed over. He lifted them both simultaneously, one in each arm, and scrambled back to the surface, nearly colliding with Jia Min standing at the door.

“How is Yu’er?” she asked anxiously.

“We’ll talk later!” Lin Rui was too focused on rushing back to treat them.

Jia Min understood the urgency; she lifted her skirt and staggered after him.

Soon, Lin Daiyu and her maid Xue Yan were laid in the bed and covered with blankets.

But hypothermia was not easily cured.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Jia Min looked at her daughter’s face—traces of melted frost and moisture—and panicked completely. She had no idea how to handle such a situation. “Anping, how do we save them—”

Lin Rui waved her off and bent over to consider their options.

After a long moment, he placed a basin near the dressing table, grabbed the hot water kettle from the rooster-shaped night lamp, poured in all the hot water, refilled it and boiled more. Then he carried the basin outside to the garden, drew some cold water from a small pool, and carefully mixed it to a warm temperature—not scalding.

With this done, he returned swiftly, set the basin by the bed.

“What are you doing?” Jia Min’s face changed sharply as she saw him begin removing Xue Yan’s clothes.

“They’re both hypothermic. If we don’t act, they’ll die,” Lin Rui explained calmly as he worked. “Wiping the body with warm water is the best current method. But be careful not to use hot water—it could cause skin and even internal organ necrosis.”

Jia Min’s expression stiffened, and after a long pause, she resigned herself. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Lin Mei, you come help.” Lin Rui said, lifting Xue Yan and heading to the west bedroom.

Jia Min’s face flickered with emotions but ultimately chose to comply.

After a while, Lin Rui returned carrying an empty basin. The beautiful woman hastily pulled the quilt over Lin Mei, who was now mostly undressed, but he kept his gaze lowered and avoided looking directly. After pouring out half the warm water, he left.

For nearly fifteen minutes they worked, repeatedly changing the water, finally stabilizing the situation. Only when both maid and mistress were breathing steadily in deep sleep did they relax completely.

“Thank you, Anping!” Seeing him carry Xue Yan back to the east main bedroom and lay her beside Lin Mei, covering them with light blankets, Jia Min wiped the sweat from her brow wearily. “Without you, I truly don’t know what I would have done.”

“Those two fools, though prepared, it was nowhere near enough,” Lin Rui thought, feeling a great weight lifted. “The weather isn’t cold anymore; the thin quilts they used barely fend off the night chill, let alone keep warm.

“Besides, they only brought one quilt down to the ice cellar. It’s a miracle they didn’t freeze to death. We were lucky to react quickly. Otherwise, not only would they have truly... even just thinking about it pains me deeply.”

“Indeed,” Jia Min nodded, still shaken.

“Madam, from now on, it will probably be just you caring for them,” Lin Rui said firmly, unwilling to delay further. “I will have all troops in the front and main courtyards on standby, and I will leave Lin Yu in charge of the protection detail, as I have other matters to attend to.”

“Rest assured!” Jia Min nodded eagerly, then hesitated, glancing toward the two women. “Xue Yan—”

“She is mine!” At this point, Lin Rui knew he could no longer conceal the truth.

“You—” Jia Min’s face darkened. “She is your sister’s personal maid!”

“I’m actually not a member of the Lin family of Suzhou,” Lin Rui paused, then decided to reveal the truth. “Besides sharing the surname Lin, there is no blood relation between me and Lin Mei. Not a hint of kinship, let alone ‘cousin.’”

Jia Min was so stunned she was speechless, standing frozen before staggering back to sit on the edge of the bed.

Lin Rui said no more but gazed deeply at the beautiful woman until she averted her eyes.

“I must go to the military to wrap up today’s events,” he said softly after a long silence. “The fire blazing at the Lin residence has lasted over an hour with no one coming. This assassination attempt is suspicious—not just the assassins but also Yangzhou’s various official ranks.

“We can’t stay here, but we can’t leave either. If we don’t root out the scum lurking beneath the surface, dying peacefully in the future will be impossible. As the saying goes, ‘Strike one blow to avoid a hundred more.’ I must set an example.”

Jia Min exchanged a glance with him, then turned her back without a word.

Lin Rui knew words were futile now and stood to leave.

Yet his mind was full of thoughts.

Because he was not from this time.

Originally, in the modern world, he lived an ordinary life—no family, raised in an orphanage on state welfare, stumbling through life with average intelligence, an average university and major, destined for an average existence.

In his thirties with no attachments, making money today to spend tomorrow, living day by day. Daytime a corporate drone, nighttime a keyboard warrior, just making do.

In life, timid and unremarkable; online, bold and forceful.

Until one night, when he finally closed his eyes and reopened them to a changed world.

The good news: he had transmigrated to Yangzhou, younger and with vigor far beyond his best expectations.

The bad news: this was a dynasty called “Great Zhou,” ruled by the Chen family, never recorded in modern history.

He had no choice but to start as a hunter with his superhuman strength, for he had nothing else. Months later, he overheard intriguing information.

Yangzhou had a Salt Patrol Censorate; its master was Lin Ruhai.

There was the famous Zhen family of Jinling, renowned throughout Jiangnan, and in Yangzhou a “Feng” brand, a branch of the main house in Jinling, whose owners were surnamed Xue, old friends of the Jia, Shi, and Wang families.

He finally understood where he was.

He didn’t want to be a stray dog forever; he bit the bullet and approached the Lin family gate.

Because his real name was Lin Rui, though Lin Ruhai had misheard it as Lin Rui.

Thus, he became a member of the Lin family of Suzhou, slowly working his way up. His original plan was to support Lin Ruhai and seize his own chance to rise—but now, everything was ruined.

More than two years of experience had taught him that if he didn’t find a way, he would soon become an anonymous corpse in a mass grave. Jia Min and Lin Daiyu’s fates would be even worse, as women, mother and daughter, and unparalleled beauties.

Therefore, he had to fight desperately.

In the bedroom, Jia Min listened to the footsteps fading away outside the door, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks.