Chapter 12: “Beg This Lord Chancellor” Part 1

The Chancellor’s Manor.

“Yun Niang! Yun Niang!”

Liu Erlang’s foot missed a step, sending him tumbling down the stone stairs. He scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Yun Niang! Something is wrong with the Chancellor!”

Servants rushed forward to support him, but Liu Erlang pushed them aside, shouting frantically, “Where is Yun Niang? Fetch her at once!”

Hearing his cries, Yun Niang spun around and darted back into the room, snatching an ebony needle case from the desk.

Liu Erlang lunged into the room, ignoring the blood smeared on his chin from his fall. He gasped for air, his chest heaving. “Hurry! The Chancellor’s Cold Poison… it’s… it’s worse than last time!”

Tucking her dignity aside, Yun Niang hiked up her skirts and sprinted toward Gu Huaiyu’s bedchamber. By the time she reached the door, her hair was disheveled and her forehead was drenched in sweat.

Several servants were huddled under the eaves of the corridor, none of them daring to approach the room. It was as if a man-eating beast was lurking behind those doors.

Yun Niang slammed the door open, pulled a set of gold needles from the case, and rushed through the heavy layers of curtains toward the bed.

Gu Huaiyu was curled tightly beneath the brocade quilts. His snow-white silk inner robe was soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to his thin, skeletal spine.

He lay there motionless, his teeth clamped down hard on a blood-stained silk handkerchief.

“My Lord!”

Yun Niang dropped to her knees by the bed. With practiced hands, she tore open the front of his robe and plunged three gold needles into the three vital acupoints: the Tiantu, the Shanzhong, and the Jiuwei.

A low, guttural whimper escaped Gu Huaiyu’s throat. His teeth sank deeper into the handkerchief, and his pale, slender fingers clawed at the headboard, the veins on his wrists bulging.

The imperial physicians had taught Yun Niang this technique. They couldn’t cure Gu Huaiyu’s Cold Poison, so they could only offer these needles to dull the agony when it flared up.

Yun Niang used her sleeve to wipe the sweat from his cheeks. Gu Huaiyu’s eyes remained shut, his lashes trembling violently. His ink-black hair was plastered to the hollow of his neck; he looked like a man who had just been dragged from the depths of a river.

“My Lord, if it hurts, just scream. There is no one else here but me,” Yun Niang urged softly.

As the Cold Poison progressed, the pain would only intensify, tormenting him for two or three hours. To prevent him from biting through his own tongue, screaming was the better option.

Gu Huaiyu’s eyes suddenly snapped open. He lunged forward, grabbing her sleeve. “Go… fetch wine. The strongest kind.”

Yun Niang bolted to the outer room, retrieving a jar of “Firewater” she had prepared in advance. As she ran back, she heard a heavy thud from the inner chamber.

The sheer agony had forced Gu Huaiyu to roll off the bed and onto the floor. The once-illustrious Lord Chancellor had lost every shred of his dignity; his hair was a mess, his clothes were in disarray, and his face was as deathly pale as a ghost.

Yun Niang threw herself down beside him, trying to help him up. Gu Huaiyu, unable to bear the pain, curled into a ball on the floor, his knees pressed against his chest.

His hands clawed blindly at the air like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. Yun Niang quickly caught his hands. “My Lord, grab me. I’m not afraid of the pain.”

Whatever remained of Gu Huaiyu’s rationality forced him to push her away. The pain was so absolute he wished he could simply lose consciousness. He rolled over onto his stomach and slammed his forehead against the blue-stone floor—thud, thud, thud.

“My Lord!”

Ignoring the gap in their status, Yun Niang pulled him into her arms. Seeing the deep red bruise blooming on his forehead, tears welled in her eyes. “My Lord, the wine is here. Just endure a little longer, it will be over soon.”

The moment she pulled him into her embrace, Gu Huaiyu’s entire body went rigid. His dilated pupils constricted sharply, and his voice was a mere whisper. “Sister… it hurts so much…”

Sobbing, Yun Niang forced his jaw open, tilted the wine jar, and poured the contents into his mouth.

Gu Huaiyu choked and coughed. The liquor, mixed with blood and saliva, spilled from the corners of his mouth. Crystal-clear tears leaked from his eyes, mixing with the blood and wine.

As the strong liquor took effect, Yun Niang felt the struggle in her arms weaken. He slumped into her embrace like a marionette with its strings cut.

She held his trembling body gently and used a handkerchief to carefully wipe the moisture from his face.

Gu Huaiyu unconsciously curled up further, huddling into a ball like a small cat.

The sunlight filtered through the window lattices, bathing his pale cheeks in light. Without the vibrant official robes and the imposing aura of the Lord Chancellor, the fearsome facade vanished, revealing just how young he truly was.

A gilded bell hanging by the window let out a long chime. This was the signal that “800-li express” dispatches had arrived at the manor.

Matters of state across the nation were waiting for the Lord Chancellor’s approval. Only with his seal would they be fit to be placed upon the Emperor’s desk.