“Gu Yushi, let’s separate!”…
==Chapter Two==
The rain from last night lingered incessantly, its continuous pattering audible throughout the night, leaving Feng Wenyu restless in her sleep.
As she turned over during the night, she seemed to brush against a fleeting warmth, but it vanished too quickly, as if it were merely her imagination. Her eyelids fluttered repeatedly but ultimately failed to open.
Daylight gradually brightened, and the faint warmth of the sun finally seeped sparingly through the latticed window.
When Gu Yushi rose from the bed, he glanced toward the inner side. The woman remained with her back to him, her head resting against the inner wall. He made no effort to quiet his movements as he dressed. Given her light sleep, she should have woken at the sound, yet he saw only an unresponsive back. The latticed window was slightly ajar, allowing ventilation, but even the breeze seemed to pause for a moment.
The room was so silent one could hear a pin drop, the air thick with an unsettling tension.
Jinshu and Shuyao exchanged glances, their hearts taut with anxiety.
Gu Yushi expressionlessly fastened his belt without assistance, then turned and left without hesitation, moving in the opposite direction from the woman.
Only the mistress and her two maids remained in the room.
Jinshu sighed silently, while Shuyao wore a look of helplessness and bitterness.
Lao Ye’s authority grew increasingly oppressive, leaving them too intimidated to speak in his presence. The mistress, too, had gradually fallen silent around him, the two now resembling strangers merely sharing a living space.
It was a sight that filled one with dread.
Jinshu glanced at the mistress and, seeing she still made no sound, hesitated briefly before withdrawing from the room with Shuyao.
As the sunlight intensified, its warm rays fell through the latticed window onto the woman’s pale face. Even in sleep, her Dai Mei remained tightly furrowed, as though troubled even in her dreams. Her lips were chapped, exuding an indescribable weariness. After a long while, the figure on the bed trembled her eyelids, and a series of suppressed, choking coughs echoed in the room.
The door burst open abruptly as Jinshu hurried in, startled by the scene before her:
“Mistress?!”
Feng Wenyu lay slumped against the headboard, coughing weakly. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, yet her lips were unnaturally pale. Hearing Jinshu’s voice, she lifted her head with difficulty:
“…Water.”
Her voice was hoarse, her throat aching, and after uttering that single syllable, she fell silent again.
Alarmed by her condition, Jinshu hastily poured a cup of warm water and helped the mistress drink it, urgently calling out, “Shuyao, quickly send someone to fetch a physician!”
Shuyao, who had just entered the room, wasted no time and rushed out immediately.
The warm water soothed her throat, and Feng Wenyu wanted to say she was fine, but she lacked the strength even to drink without assistance. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection in the bronze mirror—her face pale, a cold sweat beading on her forehead, her hair disheveled, and her lips so dry they seemed untouched by water for three days. She swallowed her words silently, knowing her appearance was far from convincing.
Leaning weakly against Jinshu, her breaths came out scorching hot. In just a few moments, she felt a clammy sweat break out all over her body, her consciousness growing hazy.
Feeling the scorching heat emanating from her mistress, Jinshu was so remorseful that tears nearly fell. When Lao Ye left this morning, her mistress had clearly been unwell, yet she mistakenly thought the mistress was sulking with Lao Ye and refusing to turn around to acknowledge him, completely overlooking the possibility that her mistress had fallen ill.
Had she been more attentive, how could she have let her mistress suffer alone in illness for so long?
A persistent high fever could be fatal. What if her mistress hadn’t woken up on her own…
Jinshu dared not imagine the consequences. She carefully moistened her mistress’s lips, repenting and pleading for punishment: “It was all my carelessness—I actually failed to notice that you were ill. I deserve to die.”
Feng Wenyu, who had been suffering with her eyes closed, could barely make out Jinshu’s voice. With difficulty, she spoke:
“It’s not… your fault.”
She suspected it was due to sitting by the window too long in the cold wind yesterday that had brought this on.
As for the reason for her current state of distress…
Feng Wenyu closed her eyes again, exhaustion evident between her brows.
The physician arrived quickly. While checking Feng Wenyu’s pulse, his brow remained furrowed. When Jinshu couldn’t resist asking, the physician finally spoke:
“The lady has been invaded by cold wind, with pent-up melancholy in her heart, leading to damp pathogens entering her system. She needs to expel dampness and cold, warm and nourish her yang energy. She must also soothe the liver to relieve depression and regulate liver energy, so that her meridians may flow smoothly.”
As his words fell, the room suddenly grew quiet.
Feng Wenyu seemed to be lost in thought with downcast eyes, or perhaps confused by her illness. After a moment, she forced her eyes open. Pale as she was, she maintained perfect composure, her voice strained from her throat: “Thank you for your trouble, physician.”
The physician left a prescription, and Shuyao saw him out with payment.
Once the physician left, Feng Wenyu collapsed onto the bed with no strength left. Jinshu wiped her tears. It had rained yesterday with howling cold winds—she had suspected her mistress caught a chill from the draft. But pent-up melancholy…
There was only one reason that could cause her mistress such melancholy.
Jinshu felt a suffocating ache in her chest. She truly couldn’t understand how Lao Ye and her mistress had ended up like this.
She wanted to ask, but when she looked up and saw her mistress’s expression, the words stuck in her throat, impossible to voice. How could she pierce her mistress’s heart like that?
Her mistress had clearly tried.
Her mistress had made efforts to reach out to Lao Ye, yet he kept her at a distance. Must her mistress cast aside all dignity?
Feng Wenyu’s body felt somewhat stiff. Jinshu’s gaze—filled with sorrow and heartache—made her unable to meet it directly.
She didn’t want to face such a look.
Jinshu wiped her tears, suppressing her sobs as she said, “I’ll send someone to fetch Lao Ye.”
Feng Wenyu struggled to stop her, her eyes trembling as she whispered hoarsely:
“…Don’t go.”
Gu Yushi was currently at the Dali Temple, an important government office, handling major court cases. His schedule was exceptionally busy. Her minor issues weren’t worth disturbing Gu Yushi over.
Nor did she want to face further humiliation.
When she first noticed the chill in her relationship with Gu Yushi, she had been angry and stubbornly refused to acknowledge him. But as time passed and she realized he truly intended to create distance, Feng Wenyu found herself bewildered.
In their relationship, the initiator had always been Gu Yushi.
She had grown accustomed to his care, could feel his sincerity, and had reciprocated with genuine affection. That’s why, upon sensing his coldness, she inevitably fell into confusion.
After her confusion, she had tried to find Gu Yushi to demand an explanation.
But the results were unsatisfactory.
The cold war during that period seemed to have plunged their relationship into an abyss.
Jinshu couldn’t help but say: “But—”
“Jinshu.”
Jinshu instinctively looked up and saw her mistress lying on the bed, breathing with difficulty. Her lips were dry and peeling, clearly suffering greatly from illness, yet she struggled to stay conscious just to stop her: “I’m so tired, Jinshu, I’m so tired…”
She seemed to be speaking to Jinshu, yet also to herself, her voice gradually fading into indistinct murmurs.
Jinshu froze, an indescribable ache rising in her nose, making her feel terribly uncomfortable. She suddenly realized that she could no longer find any trace of the bright, sun-like young girl her mistress once was in her now.
The wooden door closed, leaving Feng Wenyu alone in the room again. She stared at the bed canopy for a long time before blinking her dry eyes, her head growing increasingly heavy.
Outside the door.
Shuyao was still holding the empty medicine bowl. She looked at Jinshu with worry, lowering her voice: “Are we really not going to inform Lao Ye?”
Jinshu wiped her face:
“Send someone to wait at the gate. Once Lao Ye returns to the residence, have him summoned immediately.”
Since her mistress didn’t want them to fetch him from the Dali Temple, she could only resort to this clumsy method.
From daylight to darkness, Shuyao couldn’t resist running to the main gate several times. The guards at the entrance had changed shifts multiple times, but the person they were waiting for still hadn’t returned.
As the sunset glow was about to disappear from the horizon, Shuyao grew anxious: “Why hasn’t Lao Ye returned yet?”
Jinshu had no answer for her.
Gu Yushi returned under the cover of night. Mu Fan was still carrying several unfinished case files in his arms. As the two stepped over the threshold, they startled the servant dozing at the gate. The servant shuddered, his sleepiness vanishing instantly. Upon seeing Lao Ye, he hurriedly spoke:
“Lao Ye, you’ve finally returned! The mistress has been ill all day!”
Gu Yushi came to an abrupt halt.
Mu Fan, holding the case files, immediately stopped as well, not daring to make a sound.
After a moment, Gu Yushi moved, striding toward the main courtyard. His expression was cold and stern as he passed by the initially relieved Jinshu and the others. Their hearts sank, and they both felt a sense of unease.
Feng Wenyu was awakened by the footsteps. She furrowed her Dai Mei, struggling to open her eyes. Before she could clearly see who had entered, she heard a voice from above:
“I thought you wouldn’t use such tactics a second time.”
The room fell into sudden silence.
Jinshu and Shuyao looked on in horror.
Feng Wenyu’s mind went blank for a moment before she realized what Gu Yushi was referring to.
Back when she still believed their relationship could be salvaged, when she wanted to confront Gu Yushi for an explanation, she had once feigned illness and sent for him. At that time, Gu Yushi had indeed come as she wished, but after just one glance at her, his face turned cold:
“Feng Wenyu, when did you learn to resort to feigning illness?”
His voice was icy, laced with sarcasm.
She had been so ashamed that her face flushed crimson, and their conversation ended without resolution, leaving them parting on bad terms.
The expression on Gu Yushi’s face that day was like a needle, deeply embedded in Feng Wenyu’s heart, making her feel humiliated.
And now, that same humiliation seemed to wash over her once again.
She had a past precedent, so he was convinced she was feigning illness again this time.
A piercing pain suddenly shot through her heart. Already weakened by the chill, Feng Wenyu felt her strength drain completely, leaving her unable to even clutch the brocade quilt. That rare moment of vulnerability she had shown him back then might have been seen in his eyes as nothing but a cheap trick. Her lips turned pale, yet her eyes uncontrollably reddened.
Beneath the quilt, Feng Wenyu’s fingers trembled. She closed her eyes, as if gathering the strength to speak:
“Gu Yushi…”
Her entire body shook. A long-suppressed cough burst forth with that call, and she suddenly lost control, collapsing over the bedside. The veins in her neck and forehead bulged, her fingers clutching the quilt turning pale and bloodless.
Only then did the others notice how frail her frame appeared outside the quilt—like a thin sheet of paper, about to be crushed under the weight of the heavy brocade cover.
The man standing before the bed instinctively stepped forward.
He moved to support her, but she pushed him away in rejection. His outstretched hand froze mid-air.
After a long moment, Feng Wenyu lifted her head with difficulty. Tears fell rapidly from her eyes, but she paid them no mind. Her gaze remained fixed on Gu Yushi, a look of resolve flashing within. Perhaps it was the culmination of long-suppressed emotions finally erupting, or words buried deep in her heart that she could no longer hold back:
“…Let’s separate.”
She said, “Gu Yushi, let us divorce!”
She had had enough!
The atmosphere in the room instantly turned ice-cold.
Jinshu, Mu Fan, and the others all paled, their breath catching in fright for a moment.
Gu Yushi looked at Feng Wenyu, his voice gradually growing cold:
“You’re unwell. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear what you said today.”