Qixue smiled sweetly still: “You too. Don’t get caught and turned into a fox scarf.”
Sang Chi snorted. “I’m tough. Even if the sky falls, I won’t die.” He paused. “Come back soon. Don’t forget you owe me a dance.”
“?”
Qixue was baffled, having long forgotten the Qingqiu Dance. Sang Chi cut contact without waiting, his leg hurting too much—he didn’t want to groan in front of Qixue.
“What’s wrong with Sang Chi?” Qixue put away the token and asked Luxiangqiu.
Luxiangqiu sighed. “The Mountain Lord found out Sang Chi lent you the token privately and broke his leg. Now you really owe him a big favor.”
“The Mountain Lord went that far?”
Qixue was shocked and gained a bit more respect for Sang Chi: Even with a broken leg, he hadn’t demanded the token back or leveraged it. Even an annoying guy like him was reliable.
He said, “Of course I won’t take Sang Chi’s favor for free. Otherwise, I’d never hold my head up in front of him—how could I mock him then?”
He had already planned: Once he completed Lady Shanyin’s task, if he had spare life-saving rabbit fur left, he’d give Sang Chi one strand—enough to repay him.
The jade token for Luxiangqiu. As for Wei Huai… their relationship was complicated. He’d decide later.
After settling Luxiangqiu, Qixue returned to Cuiwei Palace to accompany Xu Taifei for the morning. In the afternoon, he packed light luggage, including the sweet soup, and took a palanquin to Chang Le Palace.
Chang Le Palace had a maze of paths, easy to get lost in due to the complex illusion array.
Decades ago, as Dayong Kingdom grew stronger and made many enemies, assassin spies targeted the Dayong Emperor. To protect himself from open and covert attacks, he asked State Preceptor Xie Shu to descend the mountain and set up layers of illusion arrays in Chang Le Palace against intruders.
In the original story, Xie Shu ultimately unraveled the arrays. He ceased protecting the Dayong Emperor, helped Ji Yuheng storm Chang Le Palace, slew the near-mad Helan Ji, and built a new dynasty on his corpse. Ji Yuheng ascended as emperor, and Xie Shu remained State Preceptor, revered by all.
Thinking of Helan Ji’s fate in the book filled Qixue with heartache. He absolutely wouldn’t allow that future. Whoever dared touch his Emperor would die by his hand—Xie Shu and Ji Yuheng included.
At the bedroom door, Qixue took a deep breath, adjusted his expression, and entered with the sweet soup.
As soon as he lifted the curtain, a heavy medicinal smell hit him. Helan Ji was taking medicine again.
Today, he not only drank it but soaked his hands and feet in scalding liquid. Even in the sweltering room like midsummer, his face remained bloodless, pale as a corpse, yet drenched in cold sweat.
Suddenly, he raised a hand to cover his mouth and coughed violently, as if to hack up his heart and lungs. In moments, glaring blood seeped from between his fingers.
“Your Majesty!”
Qixue paled in shock, forgetting all about offending the imperial visage. He rushed over, half-kneeling before Helan Ji, looking up at him while gripping his knee. “What happened to you? Imperial physician… I’ll fetch the imperial physician…”
He was just about to rise when Helan Ji grabbed his wrist. The young emperor looked fatigued, a gloomy haze shrouding his brows and eyes, but it dissipated somewhat upon seeing Qixue.
“It’s just an old ailment flaring up. No need to panic.”
Helan Ji’s voice was hoarse. Sensing Qixue’s panic and fear, he lifted his clean hand and touched Qixue’s cheek. “Get up.”
The nightmare demons tended to Helan Ji, washing his hands and rinsing his mouth while changing his sweat-soaked clothes. Qixue wanted to help, but Helan Ji refused. “Let them do it. You don’t need to serve Us.”
Under the nightmare demons’ service, Helan Ji removed his inner robes.
His skin was an unnatural pallor, but his build was not gaunt and withered. Instead, it was fit and powerful, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and well-proportioned muscles—like a sleek panther.
After changing clothes, Helan Ji coughed lowly a few times and finished the remaining medicine.
Qixue watched restlessly and finally couldn’t hold back. He rose and went to Helan Ji’s side, gently supporting him. “Your Majesty, do You really not need to summon the imperial physicians to treat You?”
His distress was plain to see, his heart filled with concern and worry for Helan Ji. With him by his side, Helan Ji’s condition had already improved considerably. Besides, summoning physicians was pointless—they couldn’t cure the backlash from witchcraft.
“No need.”
Helan Ji pulled Qixue to the couch. “Sit by Our side.”
Qixue sat on the couch with Helan Ji. Helan Ji’s hand had soaked in the hot medicinal liquid for so long that it was still ice-cold when lifted. Qixue felt it and couldn’t help pressing his warm palm against Helan Ji’s, breathing hot air onto his fingertips.
“Why is Your chills so severe?”
Qixue’s heart ached to the point of tears. He only hated that he didn’t know medicine and couldn’t treat Helan Ji’s illness.
He leaned so close that even the heavy medicinal scent in the room couldn’t mask the fragrance on his body. It wove silkily into Helan Ji’s breath.
“…”
Helan Ji hadn’t been so intimately close to anyone in many years. He lightly curled his fingers but didn’t withdraw his hand, letting Qixue hold it.
His gaze fell on Qixue’s delicate profile, then to his snowy, slender neck. The front of this skirt gown was rather open, revealing exquisite collarbones. From above, even his chest was faintly visible.
Helan Ji closed his eyes and answered Qixue’s question. “The price of using inhuman power.”
Were they those nightmare demons?
Qixue paused, involuntarily recalling Helan Ji’s short life in the original story. Even without Ji Yuheng killing him, given Helan Ji’s condition at the time, he could have lived at most two more years. So it was all due to overusing witchcraft.
Sadly, he asked Helan Ji, “Can’t You stop using witchcraft?”
Helan Ji fell silent. Seeing no answer, Qixue knew he had unavoidable reasons. He couldn’t help gripping Helan Ji’s hands tighter, murmuring softly, “I really want to share Your burdens, Your Majesty… but what can I do for You?”
The gaze he fixed on Helan Ji was soft as spring water, full of undisguised affection. Helan Ji met his eyes and said, “Just stay with Us.”
He pulled Qixue up at once and settled him on his lap. Qixue startled and wrapped his arms around Helan Ji’s neck, not daring to sit fully, afraid of hurting him. “Your Majesty?”
Sensing Qixue’s fluster, Helan Ji gripped his waist and made him sit properly.
Now they pressed intimately together. Qixue’s body heat flowed steadily into Helan Ji—like warm jade emanating a rich fragrance, so warm and soft that one couldn’t bear to let go.
Even the deep-seated chill in his muscles and bones seemed dispelled. Holding Qixue, Helan Ji said in a low, hoarse voice, “Just stay with Us like this. Don’t go anywhere.”
This was the first time Helan Ji had actively drawn close to Qixue. Qixue felt both joyful and heartbroken. He gently placed his fingertips on Helan Ji’s head, massaging his acupoints.
Helan Ji closed his eyes. Holding Qixue, he lay back on the couch. Due to the pain, he had barely slept all night. Now that the pain had faded, he finally found a moment of peace and soon fell into deep slumber.
“Your Majesty?”
Qixue noticed Helan Ji’s breathing grow long and even, sensing he had fallen asleep. He called softly.
Seeing no response, he leaned in and kissed those pale thin lips, refining his demon power into essence and passing it from his mouth to Helan Ji.
After passing most of his demon power as essence to Helan Ji, Qixue’s face paled somewhat.
This essence would nourish Helan Ji’s body; at least he wouldn’t suffer too much for the next few days. But it was only a stopgap—like drinking poison to quench thirst. Once the essence dispersed, Helan Ji’s battered body would revert.
He had to find a way to save His Majesty…
With that thought, Qixue nestled against the sleeping Helan Ji and drifted off. His consumption had been too great; he felt utterly exhausted and needed rest.
The two slept embracing each other. During this time, Eunuch Xue came once. Seeing them asleep, he gently covered them with a brocade quilt and quietly withdrew.
…
Helan Ji opened his eyes, his movements slightly stiff. He realized that the pain and discomfort in his body had strangely vanished entirely.
Not only that—he even felt an inexhaustible strength, a sensation he hadn’t had since years ago, before he began practicing witchcraft.
He lowered his head slightly and saw Qixue curled in his arms, sleeping soundly. The beauty’s face was slightly pale, with faint redness at the corners of his eyes—traces of heartache and sorrow for him.
Then, his gaze swept over Qixue’s well-shaped red lips.
He had just dreamed of Sang Xue’s fragrance and the snowy white at his neck.
Sang Xue clung to his shoulders, sweetly kissing his lips and softly calling him “Your Majesty,” which later turned to “brother.”
“…”