CHAPTER 291: IT’S ALL FOR YOU

AiLin wasn’t impressed.

Watching Grandmother LinLin scold Mrs. Jiang with such sharpness was surprising, yes—but not impressive. After all, the old woman had never been fond of her daughter-in-law. Perhaps deep down, even she had sensed Mrs. Jiang’s true colors: the greed, the ambition, the hollowness behind the smiles.

But because Mr. Jiang, her beloved firstborn, had begged for her acceptance, Grandmother LinLin had allowed Mrs. Jiang to stay, albeit begrudgingly. She could allow her presence but still there would be constant sneers and biting comments whenever she could get away with them, thus it wasn’t odd for her to admonish Mrs Jiang today.

Of course, whenever that happened, who paid the price once they were home?

AiLin.

Always AiLin.

Still, something about today felt... off.

Was it because Mr. Jiang now lay in a hospital bed, little more than a breathing body? Had that softened Grandmother LinLin, or hardened her?

Either way, her tongue had grown sharper than ever.

"M-Mother!" Mrs. Jiang stomped her foot, flushed red with fury.

"Mother-in-law," Grandmother LinLin corrected coldly. "Don’t forget your place. Though you married into this family, you are still an outsider. An outsider!"

Mrs. Jiang clenched her fists, her teeth grinding audibly. Her gaze darted toward Jiang MengYao, standing stiffly at the side. Silent. Too silent.

She narrowed her eyes.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was he putting on an act to gain favor from Grandmother LinLin? That thought alone made her hesitate, she couldn’t risk ruining her son’s chances of becoming the next heir.

Letting out a silent huff, she bit her tongue.

Meanwhile, Grandmother LinLin finally turned her eyes toward AiLin.

And for the first time in forever... she smiled.

It wasn’t sharp or mocking. It wasn’t cold or sarcastic, just a smile from the depth of her heart as though she was looking at her most beloved granddaughter.

AiLin stiffened, momentarily taken aback.

She had spent years on the receiving end of this woman’s dissatisfaction, had grown used to her disapproval like a constant shadow. So this sudden warmth, no matter how faint had unsettled her more than hatred ever could.

"AiLin-a," the old woman spoke, voice softer than AiLin remembered.

Seven years. It had been seven long years since they last saw each other, and time had not been kind. Grandmother LinLin looked frailer now. The wrinkles etched deeper, her eyes sunken and weary. And the fact they were all gathered in her bedroom instead of the formal study said more than any words could.

She was ill and bedridden, possibly counting her days.

But AiLin didn’t know whether to feel pity... or indifference.

Was she mourning the woman who once represented strength, the matriarch who ruled a business empire with an iron fist? Or was she simply watching the inevitable collapse of a crumbling dynasty?

No one in the current Jiang family had inherited Grandmother LinLin’s brilliance. Not her sons. Not her grandchildren. The legacy she built would likely die with her.

AiLin’s tone was calm, almost detached, as she spoke, "Elder Jiang, it seems your family members aren’t fond of my presence. If that’s the case, I’d appreciate it if you could quickly tell me why you asked to see me today."

The smile on Grandmother LinLin’s lips faded.

She looked stricken, almost wounded.

"You won’t... call me your grandmother anymore?"

AiLin’s lashes fluttered as she briefly shut her eyes. When she opened them, her gaze was clear. Honest.

"No sarcasm and no ill intent," she said softly. "It’s just the truth. I learned a long time ago that you were never happy when I called you ’grandmother.’ I don’t enjoy bringing up the past... but on your fiftieth birthday, I came to give you a gift. I called you grandmother in front of everyone, and your entire mood soured. You didn’t speak to me the whole night."

The room fell silent.

Grandmother LinLin’s face turned pale. Her fingers trembled slightly where they clutched the blanket. The weight of guilt hung heavy in the air.

AiLin sighed.

Why did it feel like she was bullying an old woman?

This wasn’t what she came here for.

Yes, she had resentment. Plenty of it from the years of being in Jiang Family. But watching the woman who once towered over the Jiang family now shrinking beneath a blanket in her own bed... it didn’t bring her any satisfaction. No joy and no vindication.

If anything, it just made her feel tired.

This woman didn’t have many years left. And AiLin wasn’t here to rush her to the grave with bitterness.

"Besides," AiLin continued quietly, her voice steady, "I am now part of the Hua Family. Hua AiLin."

The words echoed in the silent room like a declaration of freedom. A name reborn. A woman reclaimed.

Grandmother LinLin’s lips parted slightly. "The Hua Family... but Elder Hua, she..."

She stopped.

Because even she knew the weight of that unspoken truth.

Everyone in the room was aware of Elder Hua’s cruelty, especially toward the women in her family. Daughters, granddaughters—it didn’t matter. To Elder Hua, they were liabilities. Easy targets. Dispensable.

Grandmother LinLin’s gaze flicked to Mrs. Jiang and Jiang MengYao. She didn’t finish her sentence.

No need to give them more satisfaction.

But AiLin merely smiled faintly, as if she could hear every unsaid word.

"I know what you’re thinking," she said. "But I’m simply returning to where I truly belong."

Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, the softest exhale escaping her lips like a burden released.

"I’ve been an outsider everywhere I went. Whether here, or there. But in the Hua Family... I have a mother, a father, a brother, and a sister who love me. Truly love me."

Her voice trembled just slightly on the word love, like it was a foreign thing, fragile and precious.

Silence.

Then, Grandmother LinLin’s voice broke through, strained and remorseful.

"I’m... sorry."

AiLin blinked.

She hadn’t expected that.

Not once in her life had she ever imagined that the first apology she’d receive from the Jiang family would come from the woman who had always stood at the top of it.

No, Grandmother LinLin had never hit her. Never screamed or cursed her like others did. But her cold indifference, the way she ignored her existence as if she were invisible—it hurt more than words or blows ever could.

That wound had carved itself into AiLin’s childhood. Deep and quiet. Always aching.

Apologies...

She had stopped waiting for them a long time ago.

And yet, here it was. From the very last person she’d expected.

"It’s in the past," AiLin said softly, brushing it off with a faint shrug. "I’ve long let it go. Holding on to what hurt me would only break me further. I’ve already left those days behind."

Grandmother LinLin’s hands clenched into the blanket over her lap, her fingers trembling, her eyes reddening. She lifted her chin as if to hold onto some dignity, but her frailty was undeniable.

AiLin saw it. And despite everything, she sighed.

Then, with a gentler voice, she added, "But I’ve forgiven you."

She turned her gaze to her grandmother, her eyes warm, calm.

"Thank you... for apologizing."

For a heartbeat, Grandmother LinLin seemed to deflate—her shoulders falling, her expression softening as though some invisible weight had finally been lifted.

Perhaps AiLin was right.

Perhaps the old woman had realized her days were numbered. And when death came near, the sins of a lifetime became louder. Maybe that was why she had called her here, not for power, not for manipulation.

But to let go.

To leave this world a little lighter than before.

And hearing those words, the old woman smiled a bit more relief, her eyes lit up from the dullness that she had once held in her eyes.

"But I would appreciate not being here for long," AiLin then added. She thought that apologies was enough now and she would rather go home than be here and stay with people who wanted her dead.

"Of course," Grandmother LinLin pulled herself together before shaking a bell and a man dressed in suit rushed toward her room. He then stood beside AiLin and pulled out a black colored file, placing it in front of her.

"This is..." AiLin stared at it and then at the man who had given her the file as there was a round golden pin the size of a thumb on his pocket, the symbol of a lawyer.

"Take a look of it, AiLin," her grandmother instructed her and though suspicious, she took the file to her hands. "It’s all for you now."