Chapter 65: Entering the Palace Part 1

Wei Tingxia really did not want to accept these “kind intentions” and tried to refuse.

“Prince, you are truly thoughtful. However, the Marquis does not usually like having many people attending him. These eight people here would truly be a waste of talent. Why not…”

Before he finished speaking, the smile on Li Yan’s face deepened, yet it carried an undeniable dominance as he directly interrupted him. “Physician Wei, you are overthinking this. Servants exist to share their master’s burdens, whether serving in the inner courtyard or sweeping the outer one—it is all their duty. How could there be any talk of wasting talent?”

He paused, then abruptly changed the subject, his tone laced with obvious dissatisfaction and icy shards of doubt.

“On the contrary, why has Physician Wei been repeatedly refusing? Just moments ago, you swore you could make decisions on behalf of your family’s Marquis. But the moment this prince sends a few people, you start hemming and hawing? Could it be that the Yunzhong Marquis would slam the door in this prince’s face upon seeing the servants I sent, slapping my face in the process?”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp as needles piercing toward Wei Tingxia, his voice lowering a few degrees with deliberate probing. “Or could it be that Physician Wei, you harbor some selfish motives yourself, worried they might take something of yours?”

Wei Tingxia could hardly believe his own ears.

Selfish motives?

Worried they would take something?

Take what? Ruo Chi’s fodder? Or the spot by Yan Xinfeng’s side?

A perfectly fine prince, high in status and power, yet spending his days thinking up all sorts of nonsense!

His mind raced like ten thousand galloping horses, but his facial smile remained unchanged, only a faint, almost imperceptible trace of exasperation flickering deep in his eyes.

“The Prince jests,” he steadied his emotions and said calmly. “What selfish motives could I have? Since the Prince insists, I shall accept this kindness on the Marquis’s behalf.”

Li Yan seemed to have achieved his goal and let out a satisfied hum of laughter. He said a few more pointed words of formality before leaving without lingering.

After sending away this plague god, Wei Tingxia turned and returned to the front hall. Looking at the eight servants still standing rigidly in place, his emotions were complex beyond words.

He rubbed his faintly aching temple, pondered for a moment, and waved to the steward nearby, who wore an equally bewildered expression. His voice carried deep confusion.

“…Take them to the front courtyard and see if there are any heavy tasks that need manpower.”

The steward opened his mouth but ultimately could only let out a silent sigh, exchanging a look of shared bewilderment and exhaustion with Wei Tingxia.

What was all this about?

…

…

Meanwhile, deep within the palace.

Contrary to others’ guesses, Yan Xinfeng was not led to the Imperial Study or the Warm Pavilion. Instead, the imperial guards brought him to a remote yet heavily guarded duty room in the southwest corner of the palace city.

Clearly, the Emperor’s secret summons this time was meant to avoid alarming others.

The imperial guards silently withdrew and stood guard outside. Inside the duty room, the candlelight blazed brightly, with only Yan Xinfeng alone.

He did not sit down immediately. Instead, he walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing solemnly at the heavy shadows cast by the palace walls outside.

Winds and clouds stirred in the capital, with Li Yan and Li Ji growing restless. Yan Xinfeng knew the coming days would be tough, yet he could not help thinking of other matters.

Moments later, Yan Xinfeng’s gaze sharpened, as if he had made up his mind.

He pushed open the door and left the duty room, beckoning to an on-duty guard.

“Go to the Capital Suburbs Military Camp and find Zhou Zhi. Have him write a letter for me.”

The guard respectfully bowed. “Please instruct me, Marquis.”

“Send it to the Northern Border via the fastest channel and deliver it into Huang Pei’s hands.” Yan Xinfeng’s voice was low and clear. “Ask him where exactly he obtained that medicinal formula used to save me back in the Northern Border. I want the truth.”

“Yes.”

The guard departed with his orders, and only then did Yan Xinfeng slowly turn around and return to the duty room.

Candlelight illuminated his angular profile, his expression inscrutable.

…He had originally believed Huang Pei’s explanation, thinking that the miraculous medicine which had pulled him back from the gates of hell had been obtained by sheer coincidence from some reclusive divine physician.

But Wei Tingxia’s appearance, along with all his anomalies, made that explanation full of holes.

A man who clearly knew nothing of pharmacology—how could he discourse on medical principles and herbs so eloquently in front of a crowd of imperial physicians, holding his own without faltering and fully living up to the title of divine physician?

Over these two years, not a single person in the entire Profound North Army had detected the hidden ailment in Yan Xinfeng’s body—not even Pei Zhou.

Yet Wei Tingxia had seen through the deep-seated threat in Yan Xinfeng’s body at a single glance.

More crucially, Wei Tingxia had left Da Zhao over two years ago and had been trapped in the capital of the Shuo Kingdom, thousands of miles away. How had he known?

Unless it was from Fu Chi’s words, the only other possibility was that Wei Tingxia had foreseen it long ago—that he had known all along the poison in Yan Xinfeng’s body had not been fully removed.

In that case, the source of that medicinal formula became highly suspicious. Who exactly had left it behind?

Huang Pei’s unusual gaze when speaking of Wei Tingxia resurfaced in his mind.

Back at the Marquis’s residence, with so many people around and Wei Tingxia’s status being delicate, Yan Xinfeng had not pressed the matter.

Now, summoned into the palace by this sudden secret decree and isolated in this duty room cut off from the outside world, he instead had the perfect opportunity to unravel this long-pondered mystery.

The truth might lie in the origin of that medicinal formula.

A true heart flickered vaguely in the distant mists. Because it was too far away, Yan Xinfeng had only sensed the anomaly today, catching the scent of the Northern Border’s dust after two years.

He awaited an answer.

…

…

At the third quarter of the xu hour, the Marquis returned to the residence.

The moment he entered the gate, he sensed something amiss.

His gaze swept over the back of a servant carrying a large water jar across the courtyard. Yan Xinfeng asked, “Why are there so many more people in the courtyard?”

A servant nearby whispered, “In response to Your Highness, these are gifts from Prince Jin, said to be a token of his regard.”

Prince Jin sending people?

“You accepted them just because he sent them?”

“Yes,” the attendant replied. “Physician Wei said he could make decisions on the Marquis’s behalf.”

He indeed could.

Yan Xinfeng nodded and withdrew his gaze, saying no more. “Have them stay in the front courtyard and not wander about.”

“Understood.”

Leaving the front courtyard and walking along the side corridor, Yan Xinfeng spotted Wei Tingxia staring blankly at the wall.

He approached slowly. “What are you looking at?”

“That,” Wei Tingxia tilted his chin. “I’m looking at the tools for making pounded meatballs.”

Yan Xinfeng did not understand what he meant and followed Wei Tingxia’s gaze. He discovered eight pairs of iron hammers standing in the corner of the wall, all forged from fine iron with rough engravings but heavy weight that ordinary people could not lift.

“If you want meatballs, just tell the kitchen.” Yan Xinfeng said, “Pei Zhou mentioned a stall on Ming Street that makes excellent fish balls.”

“Not that.”

Wei Tingxia gave him a push. “Didn’t you see when we came in? Four men and four women, all built like iron towers. I’m afraid if you don’t heed Li Yan’s overture, he’ll have those eight hammer us into meatballs.”

Mentioning those servants, Yan Xinfeng fell silent as well.

Such robust builds were rare even in the army; he had no idea where Prince Jin had gathered them from.

Wei Tingxia watched for a while longer, then suddenly recalled Li Yan’s parting words, feeling quite annoyed. “I didn’t want to accept them at first, but he acted like he had gone hysterical, asking if I was afraid they’d take my things. His brain must have boiled in hot water—another moment and you could dip it in sauce and eat it.”

He had meant to mock Li Yan’s pig-brained stupidity, but Yan Xinfeng had never heard of such a dish. Upon hearing it, he grew worried.

“You can’t eat his brain,” he said very seriously. “What if you catch a disease?”

“Eating brains causes disease?”

Wei Tingxia rolled his eyes at him. “How was I not aware?”

“It might interfere with your cultivation,” Yan Xinfeng said solemnly. “Some things are bad for the body once eaten.”

Upon hearing this, Wei Tingxia’s gaze drifted lightly onto Yan Xinfeng’s face.

He could tell this man was serious, genuinely believing that eating Li Yan would make Wei Tingxia unwell.

He was stunned to the point of being somewhat adorable.

Thus, Wei Tingxia acted on impulse. He crooked a finger at Yan Xinfeng. Once the man leaned in puzzled, he unhesitatingly tilted his head and planted a kiss on his lips.

After the kiss, he grinned. “Marquis, you are truly adorable.”

The Marquis was not adorable—the Marquis was hungry. He forbade the man from leaving, gripped the back of his neck, and kissed him again. The two squeezed into the side corridor, hiding in the shadows, entwining affectionately.