Hasty footsteps echoed faintly from afar. Ling Ting pushed open the door and ushered Physician Wang into the room. When he caught sight of Gu Lianzhao half-kneeling at the bedside, his gaze sharpened. He wanted to say something but held his tongue.
Gu Lianzhao had personally gone to the Imperial Hospital to drag a criminal away, and Physician Wang had witnessed the entire affair. The man’s face was etched deeply in his memory. Upon seeing him now, Physician Wang recoiled a step, desperately wishing he could turn tail and flee.
Yet with the prince still lying unconscious on the bed, he had no choice but to speak up in a quavering voice. “Please step aside, Lord Gu. Allow this old man to take the pulse…”
Gu Lianzhao released his grip and retreated a step, making way.
Ling Ting had no attention to spare for him now. His heart clenched along with Physician Wang’s furrowed brows, and he found himself holding his breath.
On the way to greet the physician, Ling Ting had already recounted Liu Yuanxun’s condition over the past few days. Naturally, Physician Wang knew all about the medicinal bath from the night before.
As the pulse reading clarified, the tension eased from Physician Wang’s face. He withdrew his hand and murmured softly, “The prince has no serious ailment. The medicinal bath simply overwhelmed his weakened state—too much tonic for his frailty to bear. The drug’s potency built up inside him and couldn’t dissipate, sparking that sudden fever and fainting spell.”
Ling Ting said in chagrin, “Was it the medicinal bath’s fault, then?”
“Not entirely,” Physician Wang replied carefully. “The prince’s medicinal baths must not be interrupted. Once his major illness began to improve, they needed to resume. But these past few days, he has overtaxed his spirit. He may appear energetic on the surface, but his body remains frail. A soak like that was bound to be too much. I’ll write up a new prescription shortly—one to nourish him properly for several days. Then I’ll return to check his pulse again.”
Ling Ting cupped his hands in a fist. “My deepest thanks, Physician!”
Physician Wang sidestepped to avoid the gesture of respect, offering only a reminder. “The baths and prescriptions are mere stopgaps. Finding a bearer of the Pure Yang Physique is the truly urgent matter.”
Ling Ting nodded, his expression grave. “I understand.”
No one noticed the fleeting dilation of Gu Lianzhao’s pupils the instant the words “Pure Yang Physique” left the physician’s lips.
…
“Physician Wang, hold a moment!”
Physician Wang was nearly back at the Imperial Medical Bureau when the call rang out behind him. He turned and froze, his neck going rigid as he stammered, “Wh-what a coincidence, Lord Gu.”
Gu Lianzhao swung down from his horse, cupped his fists in salute, and asked, “Might I trouble the physician to step aside for a word?”
Despite the biting midwinter chill, sweat beaded on Physician Wang’s forehead. He dabbed it away with a silk handkerchief. “Of course, of course. Please, Lord Gu—speak your mind.”
“I overheard you mention the ‘Pure Yang Physique’ earlier. Might I ask what it is? Would it benefit the prince?”
Ah, so it was about the prince’s illness.
Physician Wang let out a relieved breath and explained in detail. “Pure Yang and Pure Yin are innate constitutions. Those with Pure Yang have vigorous pulses, abundant vital energy and blood; they burn hot as live coals even in the depths of winter. Such bodies harmonize perfectly with fierce, blazing styles of internal force cultivation. Beyond that, there are no other distinguishing traits.”
He finished with the Pure Yang Physique and went on to elaborate its underlying medical principles.
Seeing the troubled look on Gu Lianzhao’s face, Physician Wang offered comfort. “Lord Gu, there’s no need for concern. Pure Yang and Pure Yin are heavenly physiques—exceedingly rare. The entire dynasty might yield only one or two at most. Finding one is a matter of fate.”
Gu Lianzhao nodded solemnly. “I had hoped the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s vast archives might help locate such a person for the prince. I never imagined even they would have no record.”
This remark jogged Physician Wang’s memory: he was a ger, after all. No ger would fail to worry over his husband. It was only natural for him to come chasing after with questions.
Physician Wang consoled him. “You mustn’t blame yourself. The rarity of Pure Yang and Pure Yin stems not just from their scarcity. The key difficulty is that bearers of such martial prodigies often remain unaware of their own gifts. What’s more, the body’s yin-yang energies gradually dissipate with the flow of Kui Water and Primordial Essence. Thus, only prior to a person’s first experience of Kui Water or emission of Primordial Essence—by cultivating the appropriate blazing yang or profound yin heart method—can the innate purity be preserved.”
Layer upon layer of conditions made Pure Yang and Pure Yin exceptionally elusive.
Gu Lianzhao pressed further. “Aside from using internal force to assist the prince in circulating his qi and blood, does the Pure Yang Physique have any other uses?”
“Ah?” Physician Wang blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, Lord Gu?”
“For instance—feeding blood or flesh, or rites of dual cultivation.”
“Absurd nonsense.” Were it not Gu Lianzhao asking, Physician Wang might have burst out laughing. “Human vitality scatters the moment it leaves the body. What good is consuming blood or flesh? And consummation? Spousal intimacy has no bearing on healing. Even Pure Yin or Pure Yang cannot confer benefits through such acts.”
Gu Lianzhao let out a quiet sigh. “I see. It was mere fancy on my part.”
Physician Wang nodded understandingly. “Think nothing of it. You’re simply anxious for the prince’s health.”
With the matter concluded, Gu Lianzhao turned to leave.
He had taken only two or three steps when he paused, as if struck by a sudden thought, and called back to Physician Wang. “No matter the hardship, I will search with all my strength. But until a suitable person is found, please—do not tell the prince that I inquired. I wouldn’t want to burden him with fresh disappointment…”
“I understand, I understand.” Physician Wang bobbed his head repeatedly, in full agreement. “Patients dread dashed hopes above all. Best to say nothing.”
Gu Lianzhao saluted once more, vaulted onto his horse, and departed.
He had given chase to Physician Wang under the pretext of scouting Xiao Jinye’s Old Residence. Now that the words were spoken, there was no avoiding the trip.
…
One bowl of cooling, fortifying medicine slid down Liu Yuanxun’s throat, and the fever slowly ebbed from his body. Yet even then, he did not stir until the moon hung high in the night sky.
“What’s all this…” Liu Yuanxun’s gaze fell on Ling Qing’s red, swollen eyes. His voice was faint with exhaustion, but his smile was gentle. “I open my eyes to a pair of big apricots. For a moment, I thought I’d slept straight through to autumn and woken to ripe autumn fruit.”
Ling Qing let out a “pfft” of laughter. But no sooner had she giggled than her mouth puckered and tears welled up again. Liu Yuanxun quickly shifted the subject. “Where are Ling Ting and Gu Jiu?”
“My brother’s brewing your medicine. Lord Gu… he’s practicing martial arts in the back garden.” With that, Ling Qing draped herself over the edge of Liu Yuanxun’s bed and pleaded in a soft voice, “Master, please tell my brother to stay in the room. That way, he can keep watch over your condition at all times.”
Liu Yuanxun smiled. “That would be improper. Should word get out, it would tarnish Ling Ting’s reputation.”
What household had its master and concubine sharing a room while summoning a guard to stand vigil inside? Gossip would spread like wildfire, breeding all manner of ugly speculation.
“But…”
The word had scarcely left her lips when Ling Ting entered, bearing the freshly decocted medicine. Seeing Liu Yuanxun awake, delight flashed in his eyes, and his steps quickened.
Once the medicine was fed, Ling Ting swept back the hem of his robes and dropped to his knees. Meeting Liu Yuanxun’s startled gaze, he offered the explanation unbidden. “That day, when you collapsed from the fever, I lost my temper in the heat of the moment and laid hands on Lord Gu. It was rash of me. I am prepared to accept punishment…”
Only then did the vague recollections from Liu Yuanxun’s delirium surface—Ling Qing’s accusations ringing dimly in his ears.
“Rise,” Liu Yuanxun said, waving a languid hand with a sigh. “I know you acted out of concern for me. The illness struck without warning; even I had no inkling. You cannot be faulted for it.”
“Hmph.” Ling Qing pursed her lips. “You always take his side! He shows no regard for you at all!”
Liu Yuanxun let out a helpless chuckle. “This isn’t taking his side. He suffered blows to his reputation and position on my account; the least I can do is make amends. But he owes me nothing in return. Between strangers, there is no debt—and no cause to demand he tend me with the devotion you two show.”
Everything he had done stemmed from a desire to act with a clear conscience, not to earn Gu Lianzhao’s gratitude or reciprocity. Should this lead to a cordial friendship between them, so much the better. If not, it mattered little.
Ling Qing mumbled under her breath, “But I still feel like you’re the one getting wronged.”
“That’s because you favor me.” Liu Yuanxun reached out to tousle her hair, his laugh warm. “When the heart leans toward one side, it colors everything you see. But set aside that bias, and Gu Jiu has simply treated me as he would any ordinary person. He has done nothing wrong.”
Ling Qing nuzzled into his palm. Though resentment still simmered in her heart, Liu Yuanxun’s breezy demeanor dulled its edge.
Ling Ting watched the exchange with a complicated gaze. In that moment, he could not say whether he felt more envy or pity toward Gu Lianzhao.
Ling Qing had yet to awaken to matters of the heart; her judgments of people and events stopped at the surface—”Does Gu Lianzhao treat the prince well or ill?” She could not fathom the layers beneath. He, though, was older, his thoughts less innocent, and what he perceived ran deeper.
Gu Lianzhao was no ordinary man. He was the Northern Pacification Division’s youngest-ever Pacification Commissioner, with cases under his belt numbering in the dozens if not hundreds. At a tender age, he had schemed against the venerable Gu Mingyuan to secure his footing in the capital. Later, he had latched onto Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander Liu Xun. Such cunning was beyond the common run.
A man who had clawed his way from the muck—if he set his mind to ensnaring the prince, even a third of the false affection he had lavished on Gu Mingyuan and Liu Xun would suffice to craft a flawless facade of sincerity.
Yet he had done no such thing. Far from currying favor, he kept a deliberate distance—cold of face, averting his eyes even as they shared a bed.
If he were a fool, one might call it insolence born of the prince’s indulgence. But this was Gu Lianzhao. The matter was far from simple.
Either his schemes ran unfathomably deep, aware of the prince’s disdain for hollow pretenses and thus holding aloof to bide his time…
Or…
Ling Ting lowered his eyes, unwilling to pursue the thought.
He could only conclude that it might be for the best if Gu Lianzhao remained heartless and obtuse forever. What he truly feared was that the man—having known so few good souls—might falter before someone like the prince, who considered his welfare at every turn, and tumble headlong into the snare.
But what then?
To the prince, what difference was there between Gu Lianzhao and a starving stray by the roadside? The prince was kindhearted, with resources to spare. Spotting a wretched mutt with ribs showing, he would toss it a bun or two. The dog, overjoyed, would gambol about him, tail wagging furiously, ready to lay its honest heart at his feet.
Yet all that raw devotion would be, to the prince, nothing but an added burden.
Having served at the prince’s side for years, Ling Ting knew his master’s nature intimately.
Others gave three parts effort only to claim seven in return. Not the prince. He was one who rejoiced in others’ prosperity.
He tended to people as one might flowers. When they bloomed, the gardener’s heart swelled with quiet joy—regardless of their worth or utility. He would not fall in love with a blossom merely for the care invested in it.
There were endless reasons for those beneath to adore those above. But by what right should the exalted stoop low? What you lacked, they possessed in abundance. What you offered, they deemed worthless. To force the issue was to make a fool of oneself.
Gu Lianzhao to Liu Yuanxun.
Himself to Liu Yuanxun.
In the end, there was no difference at all.
He could see things clearly and accept them with a willing heart, so he never harbored extravagant hopes or crossed any lines. He simply watched over the prince from afar, tending faithfully to his own duties.
But could Gu Lianzhao? He had no desire to see Gu Lianzhao develop feelings—not out of jealousy, but because he didn’t want the prince drawn into an uncontrollable crisis.
With the prince’s temperament, as long as no greedy desires stirred, it remained a harmless connection. But if those desires took hold, resentment was inevitable when what he sought proved unattainable.
