Chapter 26

Whether they went or not, it wasn’t something they could accomplish in just one or two days.

Xiao Jinye’s residence had been ransacked thoroughly eight years ago. Even if there had been anything hidden there, it wouldn’t have stayed concealed for eight whole years, only to be uncovered on their first visit. Before setting out, they needed to plan carefully.

This brought them inescapably back to that thorny topic: the Imperial Prison.

Liu Yuanxun looked up at him. “The Embroidered Uniform Guard doesn’t lend out their case files, do they?”

Of course not. Aside from the emperor, anyone else who wished to review the Guard’s investigative records had to go in person to the Commandery Office, sign a stack of documents, and obtain approval before they could even lay eyes on them.

But if they wanted to search Xiao Jinye’s residence, they had to start with those files from eight years ago—to understand exactly how the investigation had been conducted back then.

The files were essential. A visit to the Embroidered Uniform Guard was non-negotiable.

“Right,” Liu Yuanxun said before Gu Lianzhao could respond, another thought occurring to him. “That potion—how many days have you been applying it?”

Liu Yuanxun had been sickly all day long, prone to falling into comas that lasted a day or two. To avoid delaying important matters, after applying it himself the first day, he’d handed it over to Gu Lianzhao.

By his count, it had been nearly eight days.

“Seven days,” Gu Lianzhao added. “I should be able to report for duty tomorrow.”

His Virginity Mark was gone, yet what weighed on his mind was resuming his post.

Liu Yuanxun almost laughed, but the moment wasn’t right; he caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth and suppressed it.

The day passed peacefully enough. He read a little, rested a little, and when his energy returned, he even went out to watch Gu Lianzhao practice his martial forms.

Gu Lianzhao’s techniques were exquisite, his Embroidered Spring Knife weaving shadows in the air like an illusion. Liu Yuanxun watched until his eyes swam with dizziness. It was Ling Ting who explained: the True Qi leaking from Gu Lianzhao was dazzling his vision.

The sun had just set, and dinner was finished, when drowsiness overtook Liu Yuanxun.

Ling Ting was still preparing the Medicinal Bath in the washroom when Liu Yuanxun began nodding off, chin propped in his hand.

Ling Ting coaxed him softly. “Master, wake up. Soak in the bath first, then sleep.”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on Liu Yuanxun; he felt utterly languid, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. “Can’t I skip it? It’s such a hassle—after the bath, there’s still washing up to do.”

“No, you can’t,” Ling Ting replied. He was always dutiful, following orders to the letter—except when it came to Liu Yuanxun’s health, on which he was utterly stubborn. “If you’re tired, just close your eyes and rest. I’ll take care of you.”

Liu Yuanxun gave a soft hum, his eyes already too heavy to open.

Ling Ting smiled silently, scooped him up into a bridal carry, and took him into the washroom. He laid Liu Yuanxun on the resting couch, undressed him with care, then lifted him into the tub.

The steam was thick and hot, the medicinal scent potent. For Liu Yuanxun, already drowsy, the rising vapors only clouded his mind further, sealing his eyes shut.

Ling Ting untied his hair ribbon, draping the dark locks over the tub’s edge. With a ladle, he scooped the drug-infused hot water and poured it gently over Liu Yuanxun, again and again.

Confined to a sickbed for years and rarely seeing sunlight, Liu Yuanxun’s skin was fair and silky-smooth, like the finest mutton-fat jade. The pale brown medicinal water traced over his shoulders and neck, down his chest, and vanished into the tub.

Though slender and frail, his body’s lines were elegantly proportioned. Ling Ting swallowed hard, his breathing quicker than usual—but under his careful control, Liu Yuanxun heard nothing amiss.

Even if he had noticed, he would likely have chalked it up to the room’s stifling heat making Ling Ting uncomfortable.

Tendrils of mist rose, veiling Liu Yuanxun’s face and the exposed curve of his neck and shoulders. With his sickly pallor faded, the innate refinement of his features shone through—every line perfectly tempered, warm and luminous, like a celestial being carved from exquisite jade.

Ling Ting didn’t dare look longer. He squeezed his eyes shut, relying only on touch to rinse him clean.

At the tub’s base was a smokestack valve linked to the underfloor heating ducts. When heat was needed, opening it let warm air from the ducts rise through the bottom, keeping the water hot no matter how long the soak lasted.

Three quarters of an hour later, the Medicinal Bath was done. Ling Ting grabbed a long towel from nearby and dried him off. Everywhere his gaze fell brought a flush to his ears and an itch in his chest.

This was his duty. And his torment.

Liu Yuanxun had long since fallen asleep amid the steaming waters. Ling Ting’s movements were gentle and proper, not enough to rouse him.

The drugged water drained away, fresh hot water refilled the tub. After all the fuss, Liu Yuanxun finally lay in bed.

As Ling Ting lifted him onto the sheets, Liu Yuanxun stirred briefly awake for an instant. He even gave thought to the zither score and the painting. That matter had gained a new lead; once Gu Lianzhao reported for duty, he could go along and thoroughly comb through the case from eight years prior.

His plans were neatly laid. But his body had other ideas, betraying him once more with illness.

…

Gu Lianzhao sheathed his knife just as Ling Ting emerged from Liu Yuanxun’s room.

Having spent so much time in the Imperial Prison, Gu Lianzhao had honed sharp eyes for detail. One glance told him Ling Ting’s steps were off—quicker, and just a touch awkward.

He frowned, instinctively sheathing his blade before turning into Liu Yuanxun’s room.

The moment he pushed the door open, the wave of humid heat and medicinal vapor forced him back half a step. But his hand moved faster than his thoughts, pulling the door shut to keep out the cold.

This unusual damp warmth, thick with drug scent, instantly clued him in: Liu Yuanxun had just finished a Medicinal Bath.

These baths came once every seven days for Liu Yuanxun, to nourish and condition his body. The medicine was fierce; only when his vitality was strong could he endure it. He’d been ill lately, too weak, so the baths had been paused.

In the month since Gu Lianzhao had entered the household, this was his first time stumbling upon one.

Recalling the scene he’d glimpsed earlier, a flicker of shock and suspicion crept into Gu Lianzhao’s icy gaze. A suspicion formed, though he hesitated to confirm it.

Had Ling Ting…?

Gu Lianzhao strode past the screen, drew back the gauze curtain, and slowly peeled back the quilt covering Liu Yuanxun.

His movements were feather-light, breath held still. Liu Yuanxun slumbered on, oblivious, as Gu Lianzhao parted the front of his nightclothes to bare his chest.

The soft white silk draped loosely over Liu Yuanxun’s shoulders. The exposed skin of his neck and collarbone bore no unusual marks.

Not satisfied, Gu Lianzhao straightened the nightclothes, then grasped Liu Yuanxun’s ankle at the foot of the bed.

His touch was a bit rough. Liu Yuanxun instinctively drew back his leg with a twitch. Afraid of waking him, Gu Lianzhao released his hold the moment he stirred.

The slender ankle slipped from his grasp. Its pale, delicate skin brushed the calluses on his palm, forged from years gripping a knife—like fine white silk whispering across his heart. For an instant, his scalp prickled with itch.

He’d meant to check for other marks on Liu Yuanxun’s legs. But that reflexive dodge suddenly woke him to reality: What business of his were the affairs between master and servant? Why was he so eager to pry open Liu Yuanxun’s clothes, inspecting if he’d been taken advantage of?

Gu Lianzhao stood by the bed, a self-mocking smile twisting his lips. He tucked the quilt back in place, then turned into the washroom for his own bath.

Night deepened. Clouds veiled the moonlight outside. The room lay silent and dim, save for the distinct rhythm of breathing from the man beside him.

Gu Lianzhao lay motionless. Liu Yuanxun slept soundly, flat on his back atop the bed. His breaths came even and regular, but a faint flush colored his cheeks.

Sleep eluded Gu Lianzhao for a long while. He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, then rolled over with deliberate noise, as if sparring with some invisible foe. He spent the entire night facing away from Liu Yuanxun.

His rest was fitful. Though there were no disturbances, he jolted awake repeatedly for no reason.

After wrestling with it awhile, Gu Lianzhao wondered if it was his sleeping position. He held out stubbornly for a time before finally turning onto his back. Once repositioned, he slept through undisturbed—but less than an hour later, it was time to rise.

He dressed without so much as glancing at the bed. The door opened and shut; he swept out amid a gust of cold wind.

Over an hour later, Ling Ting judged the time right from the side room. Fearing Liu Yuanxun would miss his medicine, he pushed open the door.

He burst back out moments later, in a panic. “Quick, fetch the Imperial Physician!”

Gu Lianzhao was in the back courtyard. Ling Ting’s shout gave him a start; he sheathed his knife and froze in place.

Broom Tail saw him stop and assumed training was over. As usual, it bounded over joyfully, eager to leap into his arms and frolic. But just as it opened its mouth to bark, it caught Gu Lianzhao’s faint frown and gentle headshake.

After a long wait with no further sounds—not even from the room next door—Gu Lianzhao hesitated, then circled around from the courtyard to see what was happening.

The instant he appeared, Ling Ting lunged from the room with a fierce palm strike. Gu Lianzhao instinctively raised his knife to block.

Ling Ting’s strike carried long-pent fury, his True Qi surging wildly. Gu Lianzhao, caught off guard, parried but was forced back three or four steps.

The palm fell without a word of explanation. Ling Ting didn’t even glance back, certain Gu Lianzhao wouldn’t retaliate. He rushed straight to the front gate to meet the physician.

Ling Qing was heading into the room with a basin of hot water and witnessed it all. The usually bright and smiling girl now wore a stony face as she brushed past Gu Lianzhao without expression.

The Ling siblings had always treated him kindly. This was the first time they’d shown him coldness. Gu Lianzhao paid it no mind; he only cared what had happened to Liu Yuanxun.

He and Ling Qing entered the room almost together, rounding the screen to find Liu Yuanxun on the bed.

The man lying there had an unnatural flush on his cheeks, his lips deathly pale. His face twitched now and then.

Seeing him in such a state, Ling Qing’s eyes instantly reddened.

She wrung out a towel and gently wiped his cheeks and lips. Despite her efforts to hold back, she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out at the wooden statue of a man standing behind her.

“You know full well the prince’s health is frail—why weren’t you paying attention? Even if you don’t want to enter the prince’s household, is that the prince’s fault? Hasn’t he treated you well?”

Remembering all the hardship Liu Yuanxun had endured for Gu Lianzhao’s sake, Ling Qing—outgoing as she was—couldn’t help choking up. “To protect your position, the prince clashed with the emperor and took a slap from His Majesty that nearly left him unconscious. On the day of the ancestral rites, Minister Gu of Punishments spoke ill of you, but the prince defended you the whole time. After the rites, he could have returned home, but for your sake, he went to the palace instead. No one knows what happened, but he came back unhappy. And yet… you don’t even care that he’s fallen ill.”

Ling Qing grew more aggrieved for Liu Yuanxun with every word, tears pattering down her cheeks. “I know you and the prince were forced into this. I don’t expect you to treat him well. I just think… the prince doesn’t owe you anything. You’re sharing a room—surely you could at least keep an eye on his condition…”

Gu Lianzhao stood utterly stunned. His mind was a chaotic whirl: Ling Qing’s tearful accusations one moment, Liu Yuanxun’s sickly face the next. The two twisted together, leaving him speechless, unable to defend himself.

He had always believed he could gauge Liu Yuanxun’s condition from the sound of his breathing. Yet Liu Yuanxun’s breaths were faint at the best of times, and over the days, Gu Lianzhao had grown accustomed to them. He had never imagined there would be an exception today.

His throat bobbed twice. In a hoarse voice, he murmured, “I don’t know…”

“Lord Gu,” Ling Qing said, “the young master treats you like family, always thinking of your needs first. But you treat him like an outsider, pushing him away with every word and action. We won’t bring those things up anymore.” She drew in a deep breath, tossed the soft cloth into the basin, and turned to face Gu Lianzhao. “Since Lord Gu can’t take proper care of the young master, let my brother do it instead.”

She rose to her feet, her slender frame blocking Gu Lianzhao’s view of Liu Yuanxun and cutting off his line of sight. “In the past, whenever you weren’t around, the young master never went a whole night with a fever without anyone noticing. But ever since you arrived, we haven’t been allowed to attend him closely. If you had done a good job of it, that would be one thing—but what have you actually done?”

“Lord Gu,” Ling Qing continued, a trace of disappointment flickering in her eyes, “I truly can’t understand you.”

To say she couldn’t understand him was already putting it politely.

What she really wanted to say was that Gu Lianzhao had no heart at all.

Any person with even a shred of conscience wouldn’t ask for much—just that, given Liu Yuanxun was a patient who had always treated him kindly, he might offer a little extra care.

But Gu Lianzhao hadn’t.

If he had so much as glanced at Liu Yuanxun that night when the fever raged, he never would have remained oblivious and gone out to practice his martial arts as if nothing were wrong.

Ling Qing didn’t want to look at him anymore. At least not now—she found his mere presence in the room unbearable.

Yet in the next instant, Gu Lianzhao—standing just a step away—swayed on his feet. Before she could react or lift a hand to stop him, he lunged to the bedside, dropping to one knee and grasping Liu Yuanxun’s faintly trembling fingers.

Liu Yuanxun had woken.

But he couldn’t open his eyes or speak. With great effort, he merely crooked his fingers, as if silently urging them not to argue.

“Young master…” Fresh tears spilled from Ling Qing’s eyes.

The spot at the bedside was already taken by Gu Lianzhao, so she couldn’t very well shove him aside. She could only stand there helplessly by the bed, gazing at Liu Yuanxun through a blur of tears.

Gu Lianzhao held his hand and waited for what felt like ages. Beyond that initial twitch, there was nothing more; it was as if Liu Yuanxun had slipped back into unconsciousness. His fingers lay limply in Gu Lianzhao’s grasp, unresponsive.

Silence filled the room, broken only by Ling Qing’s occasional sniffles.

It was only then that her earlier words seemed to truly land, slowly stirring a reaction in him.

“The young master took those beatings for your sake…”

“The young master defended you in front of Lord Gu…”

“The young master stayed behind in the palace just to plead on your behalf…”

Gu Lianzhao gazed in silence at Liu Yuanxun’s face, pallid with illness. Gently, he closed his fingers around the soft warmth resting in his palm.