When Yu Wang returned to the side chamber reserved for critical patients, crown prince Zhu Helin was sitting at Su Yan’s bedside, gently pressing a cold, damp cloth to his fevered forehead.
Seeing Yu Wang enter, Zhu Helin quickly asked, “What did the doctor say?”
Yu Wang replied blandly, “He said Qinghe fell into water and caught a chill. His shoulder wound got soaked and slightly infected, hence the fever.”
The crown prince looked skeptical. “That’s it? The doctor looked so grave…”
Yu Wang snapped, “What—were you hoping it was worse?”
Zhu Helin snorted and turned back to grip Su Yan’s hand.
A young apothecary knocked and entered, carrying freshly brewed fever medicine. As he picked up a funnel-like instrument and moved to insert the nozzle into Su Yan’s mouth, Zhu Helin blocked him. “You’re just going to pour it in like that? What if he chokes!”
The young man replied respectfully, “Your Highness, I’ve fed many unconscious patients. I’m quite skilled. The medicine enters from the sides of the teeth—they swallow reflexively and won’t choke.”
The crown prince stubbornly objected, “I don’t care. That copper tube is hard—you might injure his throat. Out, out!”
He chased the boy out, picked up the bowl of medicine himself, glanced at the unconscious Su Yan, then glared at Yu Wang. “Would you kindly lift his upper body? I’ll feed him.”
Yu Wang countered, “Why don’t you lift him and I feed?”
Zhu Helin growled, “He passed out in your hands—you think I trust you to feed him?”
Yu Wang sneered, pulled a folded blanket from the wardrobe, placed it behind Su Yan’s back, then snatched the medicine bowl from the prince. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he said, “Watch and learn. I’ll show you how to feed an unconscious patient properly.”
He pressed two acupuncture points near Su Yan’s jaw, and with a bit of practiced force, Su Yan’s lips parted. Yu Wang took a sip of the medicine and leaned down to pass it mouth-to-mouth, clean and swift—without spilling a drop.
The crown prince stared, then exploded in rage. He swung a fist: “What the h*ll are you doing, you shameless old lech!”
Yu Wang leaned back to dodge the punch, the bowl in his hand undisturbed. He taunted, “Jealous, are we? You want a taste too? I doubt your clumsy hands would get anything down his throat without spilling the lot on his face.”
—
A four-horse carriage arrived outside the Forbidden Gate. Emperor Jinglong stepped out and transferred to a shoulder carriage.
Lan Xi had been waiting for a long time and hurried forward to help him onto the palanquin.
The emperor waved his hand, signaling that he didn’t need assistance.
Lan Xi ordered the palace attendants carrying the sedan to keep it steady. Walking alongside, he looked worried as he said, “Your Majesty had a headache all night, yet still attended morning court as usual and now plans to go out incognito. Your health is paramount, should I send someone to summon the imperial physician?”
The emperor leaned against the armrest, his hand supporting his forehead, eyes slightly closed, his voice carrying a trace of weariness. “No need. The imperial physicians are always the same—neither curing nor harming me, just keeping things stable. Their prescriptions aren’t as effective as a simple hot towel from Qinghe.”
“Su Shaoqing’s remedies and secret prescriptions are indeed quite effective. Even Master Yingxu highly praises his medical insight,” Lan Xi’s eyes flickered as he smiled, “I heard he’s returned safely. Shall I summon him to the palace again to prepare another hot compress for Your Majesty?”
The emperor opened his eyes and cast him a glance, then closed them again. “No need. He’s suffered some minor injuries. Let him rest properly.”
Lan Xi quickly adjusted his approach, saying, “Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll have the imperial physician visit the Su residence instead and bring along some herbs to replenish and nourish the body.”
The emperor gave a faint “Mm”—neither approval nor refusal. Lan Xi was secretly pleased, knowing he had struck the right balance again. Though the emperor seemed indifferent, his heart was actually satisfied.
Swaying gently on the shoulder-carried sedan, the emperor appeared to drift into a nap.
Before long, they arrived at the jade steps in front of Yangxin Hall. The sedan was set down. The emperor slowly lifted his eyelids and asked, “Did I sleep for so long? What time is it now?”
Lan Xi found it odd. His Majesty had only dozed off for about fifteen minutes—how could that be long? Perhaps he was still groggy. He smiled and said, “Your Majesty, it’s still before the end of the si hour. You’ve returned to Yangxin Hall just in time for the imperial kitchen to prepare the morning meal.”
Suddenly, the emperor stood up from the sedan, his eyes wide. On his otherwise steady, unreadable face, a faint crack seemed to appear.
Lan Xi noticed the emperor looking around blankly, as if searching for something. His steps even faltered slightly. Lan Xi quickly stepped forward to steady him. “Your Majesty, is your head hurting again?”
The emperor gripped Lan Xi’s wrist tightly. After several breaths, he said in a low voice, “Lan Xi, help me back inside.”
As Lan Xi supported the emperor, a strange unease settled in his heart, though he couldn’t quite put it into words.
When they reached the first step, the emperor’s toe nudged the side of the step, and his whole body tilted forward. Lan Xi gasped, “Your Majesty, careful!” Thankfully, the emperor reacted swiftly and steadied himself.
Lan Xi said with concern, “Your Majesty must be suffering from an intense headache. Please, allow me to carry you up.”
“No need. I’m not so ill that I can’t walk.”
The emperor’s words were sharp. Lan Xi realized he had overstepped and was about to apologize when the emperor suddenly said, “There are six steps in front of Yangxin Hall.”
Lan Xi was momentarily stunned. Wasn’t that obvious? What’s going on with His Majesty today—he’s acting as if his soul is lost. He respectfully replied, “Your Majesty is correct, there are six steps.”
The emperor released his wrist and ascended the stairs step by step. At the threshold, he paused briefly, then stepped inside.
Lan Xi followed closely, the strange feeling in his heart growing stronger. Then he heard the emperor say without turning back, “Summon Wang Chunfu.”
His Majesty finally agreed to see the imperial physician. Lan Xi was about to feel relieved when the emperor changed his mind. “Forget it. I’m a bit sleepy. We’ll talk after I’ve rested.”
The emperor slowly entered the inner hall, where the attendants came forward to wipe his hands and face with warm towels and help him remove his robes.
“The midday meal…” Lan Xi hesitated.
“Not yet,” the emperor said, lying down on the bed and closing his eyes without another word.
Lan Xi stepped forward to tuck him in and did not leave immediately. He waited quietly outside the bed curtains until he heard the emperor’s breathing grow slow and deep. Only then did he tiptoe out of the inner hall.
The emperor slept for more than two hours and woke in the afternoon.
A palace servant standing by heard movement inside and softly asked, “Your Majesty, are you getting up?”
The bed curtain lifted. The emperor squinted towards the light streaming in from the doorway, watching countless tiny motes of dust floating like threads in the sunbeam.
The palace servant seemed to see a look of relief flash across the emperor’s face, but when he looked again, it was gone.
The emperor’s expression was calm and serene, as usual. He ordered, “Prepare my bath and the meal.”
Remembering Lan Gonggong’s instructions, the servant asked, “Should we still summon Director Wang?”
“…No need,” the emperor replied.
—
Shen Residence.
Shen Qi was carried into the main room by frightened servants. The maids bustled around, fetching water, helping him undress, and moving hurriedly through the room.
Jinghong Zhui stood by the window, sword in arms, coldly watching.
Not long after Su Yan left the carriage, the Embroidered Uniform Guard secretly reported back:
“Lord Su boarded a carriage parked at the street corner. Judging by its style and insignia, it’s from the palace.”
“The eunuch delivering the oral decree said there was water and clean clothing in the carriage, but once Lord Su entered, he never came out again.”
“There were elite guards secretly stationed nearby. We couldn’t get close to see who else was inside.”
The reports kept coming in at intervals:
“It’s been more than half an hour. Lord Su still hasn’t reappeared.”
“The carriage is moving—it’s heading toward the Su residence.”
“The carriage stopped at the Su residence gate. Lord Su got out alone. Before entering, he turned and gestured back to the carriage. But the person inside did not show themselves. We don’t know who it was.”
“The carriage left Huanghua Gate and entered the palace through the Donghua Gate, stopping at the Forbidden Gate. The person inside… was His Majesty!”
After Su Yan returned home, the Embroidered Uniform Guard spies followed the carriage all the way to the Forbidden Gate and finally confirmed the passenger’s identity. No one dared to pursue further—the last report ended there.
Shen Qi sent the spies away expressionlessly, his fists clenching tighter on his thighs. After a moment, he spoke, his voice sharp and terrifying: “Half an hour! That’s enough time to change through the clothes of all four seasons several times over.”
Since Shen Qi had openly pointed out the emperor’s feelings toward Su Yan during the Lantern Festival, Jinghong Zhui had outwardly mocked him—”He’s the emperor. Do you really think you can just snatch him away?”—but in truth, the weight of this matter had settled like a heavy stone on his heart ever since.
At this moment, hearing the double meaning in Shen Qi’s words, Jinghong Zhui felt like he was entangled in a huge bramble bush. The sharp, hard, unruly thorns all flared outward, piercing his suspended heart full of holes, blood flowing endlessly.
To be honest, he didn’t want Lord Su to be entangled with anyone else, especially those in high positions who could coerce by power.
But what he worried about even more was: if the Emperor really had close contact with the Lord, would he discover the traces he himself had left the night before, and thus direct his anger and punishment toward the Lord?
Fortunately, after the carriage went to the Su residence, the Lord safely got off and entered the house. According to the spies, his expression seemed normal. This finally allowed both Jinghong Zhui and Shen Qi to breathe a rare sigh of relief together.
But after the worry passed, what remained was an unspeakable unwillingness and rage—
It only took a single word, or even just a glance, to call Su Yan away from their side.
Whatever he wanted to do, no one would dare refuse. If the Emperor truly forced himself on him, even Su Yan might not dare to firmly resist—he would most likely just surrender and accept it.
And turning back to deal with them would be just as easy—again, a single word, a single glance—and they would be like fish on the chopping block, crushed to dust.
—This was the supreme power of the Son of Heaven.
Jinghong Zhui didn’t fear that overwhelming power, but he did fear the harm it could bring to Su Yan. Yet unless he could take Su Yan away, to roam the world or to live in hiding, he would never escape the shackles of “a vassal loyal to the Emperor.”
At this moment, from Shen Qi’s eyes, he read a rare unity with his own thoughts. For the first time, they shared a common enemy.
“Even if I have to risk my life, I’d dare pull the Emperor off his horse. But if you can’t even stand steadily, what are you fighting with?” Jinghong Zhui said coldly.
“I know. You don’t need to remind me,” Shen Qi said.
The two walked in silence all the way back to the Shen residence.
Shen Qi was carried off the carriage. Jinghong Zhui followed at a steady distance and entered the Shen residence as well.
Shen Qi sneered, “Did I invite you?”
Jinghong Zhui replied, “The Lord’s orders must be obeyed. Whether you invited me or not, what’s it got to do with me?”
The two had nothing more to say and both entered the main room.
Thus unfolded the scene where one was surrounded like the moon among stars, while the other stood aside, coldly observing.
The steward sent to fetch a doctor soon rushed back to report, “Master Yingxu said he’s occupied with a patient and couldn’t come. He sent his apprentice to conduct the follow-up instead.”
Shen Qi didn’t mind and instructed the steward to bring the apprentice in.
The apprentice was a middle-aged doctor in his prime, swift and efficient. After examining Shen Qi’s wounds, he spoke like firing hard beads one by one: “The wound has torn again! The blood vessels have ruptured again! If Lord Shen keeps abusing himself like this, not even immortals could save him!”
Shen Qi’s face darkened. The steward quickly tried to smooth things over: “Doctor, we sincerely hope you will do your best to treat our Lord and work a miracle.”
The middle-aged doctor finished checking the pulse and said, “Don’t worry, Lord Shen won’t die! There’s a stream of external true energy protecting his heart meridian. I’ll re-stitch the wound and give him medicinal soup. In a few days, he’ll revive like a withered branch sprouting new buds, ready to abuse himself all over again.”
In critical moments, doctors held the power of life and death. The steward forced himself to swallow his anger and flattered, “Of course not, Doctor, rest assured. Our Lord will definitely follow your instructions carefully this time and properly recover.”
Only then did the doctor’s expression soften. He treated Shen Qi’s wounds and prescribed medicine.
Before leaving, he threw down one final sentence: “Stay in bed for a full month. Not a day less!”
A whole month! Shen Qi stared at the canopy above him with murderous eyes.
Jinghong Zhui came over and lightly tapped his arm with his sword sheath. “I’ll return and report to my Lord. You stay put and rest. If there’s any related news, have someone inform me immediately.”
Both of them tacitly understood what “related” meant and who it involved. Shen Qi made no comment, showing neither agreement nor disagreement.
Jinghong Zhui was about to step out when Shen Qi suddenly said, “Qinghe has always been weak. Fatigue, falling into water, shoulder injuries—any of those alone could be deadly. If you recklessly touch him again, the next major criminal on the Northern Surveillance Bureau’s wanted list will be none other than you—Wuming, the remaining scum of the Hidden Sword Sect!”
Jinghong Zhui paused in silence, gave a noncommittal grunt, and walked away.
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