My Insolent Shadow (22 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 15
Cassian had recently given the butler an order to obtain medicine for Yuriciel’s biological mother.
Since then, the butler had been frantically running around trying to fulfill that command.
Fortunately, the Lord’s personal physician was a highly learned man from the capital, appointed precisely because the Lord—driven by hypochondria and dreams of immortality—demanded only the best.
Still, compared to the Blanchet family physician, his skills were pitiful, yet he managed to offer a reasonably plausible diagnosis.
Of course, that was only after secretly observing the patient at regular intervals. Humans, after all, became remarkably strong when faced with crisis, and the butler’s desperate insistence yielded excellent results.
“According to the physician, the illness afflicting the young lady’s mother is a rare disease called Raymoke.”
Raymoke. It was a disease Cassian himself had once read about in a newspaper.
“He says that if treated in time, she’ll be fine, but if treatment is delayed, the prognosis is poor.”
At the time, the disease had claimed countless lives, yet among them, many high nobles had survived.
In short, if you had money, there was always a way to survive.
Cassian, whose thoughts had reached this point, lazily reclined his body.
“Find it. A cure.”
His dry tone carried a distinctly domineering edge.
The butler suppressed the urge to snap back with, “How am I supposed to find that?” and instead bowed his head.
As he hurried to escape this suffocating room, the Young Master added a cruel command behind him.
“Oh, and expel that fraud from this village.”
“Yes?”
“That quack.”
“On what grounds…?”
The butler was momentarily bewildered by the sudden order.
What grudge could the Young Master possibly hold against that doctor? It wasn’t even surprising that a physician treating commoners would be a charlatan.
An awkward smile crossed the butler’s face as he realized he’d just destroyed the livelihood and home of one of the estate’s residents.
Cassian drove the nail in once more.
“Criminals must be punished. Don’t you agree?”
It was a clear order to drive the man out of the territory.
Well, technically, the man was indeed a criminal—preying on the ignorant, selling false hope for money.
And since it involved lives, his offense was hardly trivial.
Yet the Young Master, issuing such a command with an utterly innocent, white smile, did not seem like a good person at all.
But the butler now understood well enough—this was precisely what being a Blanchet meant.
He left without another word.
In the spot where he’d stood, the source of today’s chaos soon appeared.
Yuriciel.
Unaware of what fate awaited her, she stood there with an earnest expression, and the butler let her in with a sigh.
[This is the timeline separator]As usual, Yuriciel brewed tea and placed it on the Young Master’s table before taking her seat before him.
Then Cassian began drawing, staring blankly at her.
It had already been a full month since this began.
The shame she’d felt the first time she’d sat in this very spot flashed through Yuriciel’s mind.
It happened every time she took this seat.
She hated the fact that her face was being captured in that sketch.
Being forced to sit here obediently, and having her features interpreted however that hand pleased—both were utterly dreadful.
Of course, enduring it wasn’t difficult.
Just thinking of her mother was reason enough.
As she sat with her mind emptied, the only sound in the stifling room was the scratch of pen on paper.
She knew well enough that drawing was considered one of the refined leisure pursuits of noble lords.
Yet court painters—or even recognized noble heirs—typically painted still lifes or landscapes.
Portraiture was not only difficult but also generally not regarded as a truly refined pastime. At least, not in the Empire.
Of course, some might genuinely find portraiture suited to their talents.
If Cassian happened to be one of them, she’d have nothing to say.
But after seeing his drawings, Yuriciel found she had plenty to say.
All day he’d sketch and add lines, yet the result was always just a mess of crude strokes.
That was all that ever filled his sketchbook.
Worse, he’d deliberately place it on the table, as if to declare, “This is your portrait.”
She couldn’t even fathom his intent—was it meant to insult her or humiliate her?
But one thing was certain, regardless of his motive:
He didn’t care one bit about her feelings.
To this Young Master, she was merely a subject for his hobby.
There were so many other subjects—the vase, colorful flowers, even the neatly arranged teacups on the plate, or the finely woven Blanchet-patterned tapestry… yet he chose her for only one reason.
Simply to observe her reactions like a toy.
Her suspicion hardened into certainty with each passing day.
Of course, she could just ignore it.
She hadn’t expected anything less when she’d first agreed to this.
Compared to scrubbing dishes until her hands were raw or taking on chores usually handled by hardened older men, this was far easier.
Just sitting like a doll before this Young Master.
Yet somehow, this “easy” task felt like the hardest thing in the world to Yuriciel.
Her pride was inexplicably wounded.
It was absurd—she felt this way even though this seat was far more comfortable than those times when she’d endlessly endured insults like “fatherless girl” or “vulgar, good-for-nothing brat.”
After all, this man had never once spoken such words to her.
Unless, of course, it was simply because he didn’t know she was Lady Vilord.
Sitting here had become a punishment for Yuriciel.
Each time, the remnants of her pride would prick her like sharp thorns.
As unspoken discomfort piled up, the distance between her and the Young Master only grew wider.
Whenever his gaze—fixed on the sketchbook—lifted toward her, she’d instinctively look away.
Just like now.
Today, his stare felt even more blatant, and Yuriciel fled with all her might.
Trying to escape that arrogant, beautiful gaze, so like the sun.
Yet her obvious attempt to flee never escaped Cassian’s notice—not even once.
A faint, mocking smile spread across his lips.
He resembled a predator who had just spotted an intriguing prey.
“Where are you looking?”
Only then did her transparent face slowly turn back to face Cassian.
Her lips, pressed together as if in protest, appeared soft and blush-pink.
The effort to suppress her rising anger made her lips tremble slightly—a sight worth watching.
At the end of it all, this girl summoned another burst of improbable courage and spoke recklessly.
“How much longer must I stay like this?”
“What, is even sitting becoming too much for you now?”
His mocking tone implied that she, who was being paid handsomely, couldn’t even manage to sit still.
That single sneer sent all the emotions Yuriciel had been suppressing swirling violently inside her.
“You’re not even drawing me.”
“Then what do you think I’m drawing?”
“That’s something only you would know.”
Yuriciel felt as though someone else were controlling her.
Words she’d never dare utter under normal circumstances spilled from her tongue without her realizing.
All the things she hadn’t noticed while desperately searching for that medicine now appeared starkly clear before her eyes.
Cassian’s slightly upturned lip, his sharp downward gaze, his amused eyes…
In truth, these were things she’d deliberately ignored—but now, she could no longer pretend.
Still, Yuriciel tightly shut her eyes.
She had no choice—whenever she thought of her mother, coughing up blood even today.
When Hael had given her that medicine, she’d held onto hope that it might heal her mother.
But that hope had faded more each passing day.
It felt as though the medicine simply didn’t work for her mother.
Though perhaps it did ease the pain—her mother claimed she hurt less now, that she was fine.
Yet every time she coughed, Jane’s mouth still spilled dark red blood.
Maybe today will be different. Maybe today, she’ll show signs of recovery.
She’d clung to that thought each day just to reach this point.
At least long enough to repay the debt owed to Hael.
Hael had said repayment wasn’t necessary, but she couldn’t allow herself to owe anyone.
Otherwise, she’d truly become the kind of bloodsucking parasite her mother had once described from a distant past.
To deny that, she’d stubbornly endured for a whole month.
Weighing which hurt her pride more.
And finally, if she collected today’s wages, she could fully repay Hael.
What then?
In truth, there was nothing to ponder.
However painful, this job was hard to come by, and with this money, she could buy another dose of medicine for her mother.
Even if it offered only the torture of false hope, families of the sick had no choice but to do their utmost until the very end.
So she wanted to endure just a little longer.
While she reaffirmed this resolve, Cassian, who had been silently staring at her, now watched with growing interest.
Yuriciel barely managed to compose herself before speaking—in the most courteous voice she could muster.
“There are so many other subjects in this room besides me.”
Cassian quietly observed Yuriciel, who acted as though even breathing in his presence was distasteful.
It was absurd—she smiled so readily at that silver-haired boy, yet recoiled from him.
Truthfully, she and he didn’t suit each other.
As she’d said, the room was filled with noble subjects far more fitting for him.
At least, more fitting for the name Blanchet.
Yet why did he insist on keeping this girl who so clearly disliked him?
Was this really worth so much trouble? No—it was worth it.
She’d chosen this job for money, yet now tried to back out—wasn’t that laughable?
Besides, it was she who’d deceived him by pretending to be Lady Vilord. So she ought to endure this much.
“There are plenty of other subjects. But none of them are alive, are they?”
“There are living things—flowers, birds.”
“They’re no fun. Too noble.”
Nothing ungenuine could ever be planted where a Blanchet sat.
The Lord, desperate to impress the Blanchets, meticulously tended the garden and entire estate daily—as had all who served him before.
Nothing unrefined had ever stood beside him—not even once. Except for this girl before him.
“Wouldn’t it get boring seeing noble things every day, like breathing?”
“…”
“People are naturally drawn to things they’ve never seen before.”
His emerald eyes, reflecting the full green of spring after winter, twisted slightly.
Within them, she was faintly reflected.
Seeing this, Cassian was seized by an indescribable desire.
Like a madman driven wild by something utterly new.
As if entranced, he rose from his seat and strode toward Yuriciel.
Startled by his inexplicable movement, Yuriciel gasped sharply.
At the narrowed distance, a cool woody scent brushed past her nose.
The Young Master, making her look up to meet his eyes, reached his hand behind him.
Just as Yuriciel instinctively tried to pull away, he grabbed her.
Her mind went blank, washed white.
“Why—why are you doing this?”
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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Damnnnnn why is this so interesting am I a masochist for liking this haha
I feel like the young master is probably going to get her back one way
I feel bad for Hael, he likes her so much but I feel like it’s hard for the FL to return that type of love