Ling Ting spotted Liu Yuanxun approaching alone from a distance.
His master was always in a foul mood whenever he emerged from Shou Kang Palace, and this time was surely no exception.
He released the reins in his hand and hurried forward to meet him. But before Ling Ting could get a clear look at the man’s face, Liu Yuanxun collapsed straight into his arms.
The body that fell into his embrace was frighteningly frail, like a corpse stripped of its bones. If not for the hands clutching at his lapels, Liu Yuanxun would have likely slid right to the ground the moment he landed.
Ling Ting jolted in alarm and instinctively steadied him, his voice laced with worry. “Master, you…”
“I’m so tired.” Liu Yuanxun buried his head in Ling Ting’s chest as if fleeing from something, murmuring softly, “There are demons in the palace that drain people’s vital energy. Every visit feels like it might kill me. Let’s hurry back. I want to return to the mansion.”
He was joking, but Ling Ting couldn’t muster a smile. Instead, he gently wrapped an arm around Liu Yuanxun’s waist. “Alright, let’s head back to the mansion.”
Liu Yuanxun let out a soft “mm” and released his grip, leading the way toward the carriage ahead. Without waiting for Ling Ting’s assistance, he climbed inside on his own and urged, “Quickly now.”
A sharp gust of wind swept by, partially lifting the carriage curtain. Ling Ting’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of crimson red. That streak of scarlet pierced his vision and threw his mind into chaos, causing him to momentarily forget his place. He rushed forward and yanked the curtain aside.
The sight that greeted him struck Ling Ting like a bolt of lightning. His entire body began to tremble uncontrollably. “Master… your face… you… it’s from His Majesty…”
Liu Yuanxun, who had removed his hood, gave a helpless smile. “So you saw through it after all.”
His right cheek was swollen massively, even affecting his speech. Unwilling to let others see him in such a wretched state, he turned his head slightly away. “It’s nothing. Just took a slap.”
“Your clothes! Is there blood on you too?!”
“Blood?” Liu Yuanxun blinked in confusion, glancing down at the long robe hidden beneath his outer cloak. Realization dawned. “Oh, no, it’s not blood. I spilled some cinnabar ink on myself. It’s fine, really.”
Seeing Ling Ting about to speak again, Liu Yuanxun let out a soft sigh. “Let’s go back to the mansion. I’m exhausted.”
He reached out and tugged the curtain from Ling Ting’s hand, then leaned back, quietly closing his eyes.
Outside the carriage, Ling Ting stood rooted for a full quarter of an hour. He clenched his fists, staring toward the depths of the palace. The flickering light and shadow in his eyes sent an inexplicable chill through anyone who saw them.
…
The carriage sped out of the palace and raced all the way back, arriving at Prince Rui’s Mansion in half the usual time.
When he lifted the curtain, Liu Yuanxun had already donned his hood again, concealing his entire face.
“Ling Ting, fetch some ointment for swelling and bruising. Don’t summon an imperial physician, and make sure no one else finds out—especially Ling Qing. If she tries to enter the room, stop her.”
Ling Ting nodded in acknowledgment and helped him toward the bedchamber.
Liu Yuanxun had thought of Ling Qing but overlooked the fact that Gu Lianzhao was still in his courtyard. The moment their gazes met, Gu Lianzhao clearly saw the injury on his face. Even someone as composed as him widened his eyes in shock, surprise written all over his face.
Liu Yuanxun ducked his head in embarrassment and skirted past Gu Lianzhao toward the room.
Getting slapped by the Emperor was one thing. Having the whole world know about it was another. The more he tried to avoid people, the more he ran into them. Grand Secretary Meng, whom he hadn’t seen in half a year, spotted him. Even the newly wed Attendant Consort crossed paths with him. Liu Yuanxun slipped into his room and let out a miserable groan, feeling like he’d lost all face today.
Once Ling Ting had helped him remove his outer robes, he left to fetch the medicine. The courtyard stood empty, and Gu Lianzhao, who had been waiting there, had returned to his side chamber.
Ling Ting strode onward without pause, but then came a soft creak. Gu Lianzhao’s voice followed. “Lord Ling, please hold on a moment.”
Ling Ting stopped and turned, seeing Gu Lianzhao holding a small, plump porcelain bottle. “This is a medicinal ointment from the Embroidered Uniform Guard. It’s far superior to anything available outside. If Lord Ling needs it, feel free to try some…”
Ling Ting accepted it without hesitation, cupping his fists in thanks.
The mansion was stocked with all manner of ginseng and rare herbs, but nothing specifically for reducing swelling and bruising. He carried wound salve on him, but that was meant for servants—it wouldn’t do for his master.
Gu Lianzhao’s gift was a timely help indeed.
Ling Ting took the medicine and entered the room without noticing the expression on Gu Lianzhao’s face.
Inside, Liu Yuanxun heard the door and looked up in mild surprise. “Back already?”
Ling Ting replied, “Lord Gu provided it. He said it’s from the Embroidered Uniform Guard—should work well.”
So he saw it too.
Liu Yuanxun covered his eyes with one hand, sighing inwardly without a sound: Now I’ve lost every shred of dignity, inside and out.
Ling Ting helped him sit and uncorked the jar, scooping some ointment onto his fingertip. But when it came time to apply it to Liu Yuanxun’s face, his hand hesitated.
Liu Yuanxun didn’t mind. “It’s fine. I’m not made of porcelain. Just a minor injury. Go ahead.”
Easier said than done—even he might balk if he saw the state of his own face. The swelling wasn’t from a mere slap; it looked more like repeated strikes from a ruler.
His vital energy was so deficient that even minor bumps left lasting bruises. That was why he never used hand warmers in bed. He wasn’t a sound sleeper, and tossing around with those hard objects would leave him covered in welts by morning.
If a light bump caused such damage, one could imagine the devastation from a full-force slap by an adult.
Ling Ting gritted his teeth. His hands, steady enough for killing or bloodletting, now shook like chaff. It took effort to finally dab the first streak of ointment onto Liu Yuanxun’s face.
Seeing no sign of pain on Liu Yuanxun’s features, he relaxed a fraction and carefully spread the rest.
Liu Yuanxun truly felt no pain. In fact, his entire face felt numb and wooden, devoid of sensation—which made applying the medicine that much easier.
Once finished, Liu Yuanxun yawned, his voice tinged with drowsiness. “I’m sleepy. Skip calling me for dinner. Eat without me.”
He had only just woken at noon before being dragged to the palace, enduring ordeal after ordeal until now. Sleepiness was only natural.
Ling Ting helped him undress and lie down, drew the bed curtains, and waited until he was fast asleep before slipping out to thank Gu Lianzhao.
…
Liu Yuanxun had assumed he’d wake around dinnertime after this nap. But the deeper he slept, the colder he grew, the more exhausted he felt. He vaguely heard voices calling him but lacked the strength to open his eyes or respond.
Even with some awareness, he knew things had taken a turn for the worse.
Sure enough, clamor rose and fell around him. His ice-cold body was stripped bare. He felt the inch-long silver needles piercing his skin, but he was too weak to even utter a protesting “ow.” He could only lie there passively as needle after needle sank into his flesh.
It’s no use…
Liu Yuanxun murmured to himself in his mind.
He wasn’t ill; he was poisoned—with an incurable toxin.
All this fussing only prolonged his suffering in this battered shell of a body. Why bother treating him? Why not just let him die like this…
Physician Wang’s brows were knotted tightly, whether from the heat or tension. Sweat poured down his face, soaking even his underclothes.
Gripping a silver needle, he urgently barked at his apprentice, “Forget decocting! Slice some ginseng—hurry!”
The apprentice swiftly selected a five-hundred-year-old root, sliced off a thin piece from the base, and used a tongue depressor to pry open Liu Yuanxun’s mouth, placing the slice under his tongue.
Standing to the side, Ling Ting’s hands and feet were icy cold, his pupils dilated with terror. He’d served Liu Yuanxun long enough to lack medical knowledge but know which remedies to use when.
Last time ginseng was employed, Prince Rui had lain unconscious for half a month, sustained only by medicine, his breathing halting twice.
This time…
This time…
Despite his utmost restraint, a horrifying thought chilled him to the bone: Could his master pull through?
“Pff!” The man on the bed convulsed, spewing a mouthful of dark purple-black blood. It splattered across his face and trickled down his neck to his chest…
It happened in an instant. The horrified Physician Wang dropped his needle, propped up Liu Yuanxun’s head to keep him on his side, pinched his cheeks to force his mouth open, and made him expel all the congealed blood.
Physician Wang bellowed, “Fetch Deputy Director Zhao—now!”
As a court physician, he outranked junior healers and usually handled Prince Rui’s care himself. Even in emergencies, his exceptional skills sufficed.
But calling for the Deputy Director meant Prince Rui’s condition had deteriorated badly…
Ling Ting’s vision darkened, and he nearly collapsed.
…
“Your Majesty! It’s bad—Your Majesty!” Hong Fu tumbled into the Imperial Study, sprawling on the floor, his voice quaking. “The Imperial Hospital says Physician Wang only just arrived at Prince Rui’s Mansion when he sent for Deputy Director Zhao. The Deputy Director didn’t even wait for a carriage—he rode straight there!”
Liu Yuanze, clad in bright yellow imperial robes, reeled as if struck by thunder. The memorial slipped from his hand to the floor. He sat stunned for a moment, then shot to his feet and strode toward the door. Barely two steps in, he staggered back, his whole body trembling faintly. “No… impossible… How could it be this quick?”
Hong Fu steadied his arm, frantic but helpless. He wanted to urge the Emperor to rush to the mansion before it was too late for a final glimpse of the Seventh Prince, but as a mere servant, what right did he have to advise the sovereign?
Suddenly, Liu Yuanze shook off Hong Fu’s hand and retreated to the dragon throne, sitting down. He forced himself to ignore his shaking hands, bent to retrieve the fallen memorial, and spread it on the desk.
“Your Majesty…” Hong Fu wailed.
But Liu Yuanze merely stared blankly at the desk, murmuring almost inaudibly, “This is the path he chose… He knelt and begged for it himself. If he can’t endure… then call it… call it heaven’s will…”
If Liu Yuanxun died, the thorn lodged in his chest—neither advancing nor retreating—would be fully extracted. The feuds spanning two generations would finally end. He would no longer need to waver or torn between loyalties…
If he died…
Liu Yuanze gripped the memorial tightly. Its hard edge dug into his palm, the pain sharpening his disarray. His temples throbbed.
Memories flooded his mind unbidden. Liu Yuanxun’s face filled every thought—now his pure, innocent smile from youth; now his tear-streaked resentment. The chaotic past piled up, a taut string ever-strained in Liu Yuanze’s heart.
It all hinged on word from the Imperial Hospital. Whether that string snapped or slackened would soon be revealed…
Time slipped by, minute by minute and second by second. Outside the Imperial Study, Hong Fu paced back and forth relentlessly, craning his neck every so often to peer through the gloom.
Snow had begun to fall outside at some point, driven by a fierce wind. Hong Fu was frozen to the bone, but even so, he didn’t dare step inside to wait.
At long last, the person he’d been waiting for finally arrived.
A quick-footed little eunuch appeared at the end of the path. From a distance, he waved toward Hong Fu. Squinting hard, Hong Fu peered closely again and again until he confirmed it was the eunuch’s right hand waving. Only then did the heart he’d held in his throat for over an hour finally drop back into place.
The Seventh Prince’s life was finally safe…
