"Don't be afraid, it's just applying medicine, not pulling a tooth…"
The ox cart moved slowly along the main street of Luoyang. Outside the cart, by the doorways of the neighborhood shops, refugees lay sprawled in twos and threes. Children hung limp in their parents' arms like gray, dusty sacks—no longer looking human.
Death loomed over them like the shadows cast by the eaves. When nobles rode past in their carriages, they only stared blankly, not daring to chase after and beg, waiting for the darkness of night to completely swallow them.
Inside the cart, Xie Jilian leaned against a soft cushion with his eyes closed, resting. The farce at court replayed in his mind like a shadow play.
A crowd of senior ministers had argued themselves hoarse, the air thicker with gunpowder than the front lines. Sima Zhi sat on the dais when, suddenly, he tore off his crown and hurled it before them all. The tassels clattered against the blue stone floor.
"Enough! That's enough! All you know is bickering—my head is about to split open!"
The boy burst into loud sobs, rushed down the steps, and tore off his imperial robes, flinging his jade belt and outer garments everywhere.
"You're all pressuring me! You all want me dead!"
He wailed with his mouth wide open. Everyone immediately stopped arguing and coaxed him like a child, picking up his clothes and crown, trembling as they hastily dressed him in the heavy robes again.
Xie Jilian savored each scene, unable to suppress the smile at the corner of his lips.
What a wonderful chaotic age—it indulged his bored heart.
The cart stopped at the entrance of Qianshan Chunting. He raised a hand to cover his mouth, yawning as he stepped down. A servant boy inside the gate spotted him at once and ran out swiftly, waiting by the cart with a grin: "Young Master, the young lady of Hongyu Terrace says she's made chilled milk custard today and invites you to come taste it."
Xu Qiaoxi.
Xie Jilian thought back to when he'd last seen her. Even he was surprised by the memory.
It had been over a month ago, when early summer had just begun. Now it was nearly the end of summer.
The shade at Hongyu Terrace was lush and dense, untouched by the heat all summer long. Not to mention the jade-white ice blocks delivered fresh every day—Xu Qiaoxi sometimes even needed an extra thin robe indoors.
She stood beneath the eaves, her waist leaning back against the railing, occasionally glancing into the distance to see if a figure was approaching. When she saw none, she immediately averted her gaze, pretending she hadn't been looking.
"Ugh… how annoying."
This was the first time in her life Xu Qiaoxi had taken the initiative to arrange a meeting with a man. She was afraid he wouldn't come, yet also afraid he would. Her mood swung up and down like the bucket in the kitchen well.
"Annoyed? Lian came over right after court, and still Qiaoxi finds him vexing?"
Xu Qiaoxi spun around sharply, her thin robe fluttering like a startled cloud.
"No! I didn't mean you."
Xie Jilian's eyes curved into crescents, glinting with teasing amusement. "Then why are you annoyed?"
Because…
Xu Qiaoxi pressed her lips together with difficulty, then swallowed what she'd planned to say.
She couldn't rush. She had to take it step by step.
"I'm worried the chilled milk custard is going to melt."
She smiled with practiced sweetness. "Guess who made it?"
"You?"
Xu Qiaoxi nodded. "I learned from the kitchen maids. Come in quickly—if we delay any longer, it really will melt."
She turned and walked gracefully back inside.
Sudden kindness from someone who's never shown it—there must be mischief behind it.
Xie Jilian followed close behind her, anticipation trembling in his heart—he wanted to peel back that obedient facade and see what little scheme she was plotting.
Xu Qiaoxi opened the ice chest. It was nested in three layers, each compartment packed with crushed ice. In the innermost layer were four small sections, holding four flavors of chilled milk custard.
"There's green plum, grape, osmanthus, and peanut salt. Which one would you like to try?"
"Peanut salt?"
Xu Qiaoxi's eyes shone like bright stars. She brought out the small dish of custard sprinkled with peanut bits and fine salt, pushing it in front of Xie Jilian.
"I came up with this flavor myself. Everyone who tried it thought it was pretty good."
Adding a touch of salt to sweets makes the sweetness richer and deeper.
Xie Jilian picked up the small spoon, scooped a bit, and brought it to his mouth.
"Why would you suddenly learn this from the kitchen maids? If you wanted a certain flavor, you could just tell them…"
He didn't finish. His gentle expression suddenly stiffened, his brows furrowing slightly. He set the small spoon back on the dish with a soft clink.
Now.
Xu Qiaoxi's heart pounded wildly. She bit the soft flesh inside her cheek to keep herself calm.
"Is your tooth bothering you again?"
She leaned in, studying Xie Jilian's expression. "Even eating this little is uncomfortable… wait a moment."
She rose and fetched a small porcelain jar. Inside was brown medicinal powder.
"I asked the household physician. Your tooth is no minor problem. If you keep putting it off, your whole body will be dragged down. 'A thousand-li dike collapses from an ant hole'—does Young Master Xie not understand this principle?"
Xu Qiaoxi knelt beside Xie Jilian, set down the small jar, and pressed her index finger to her own cheek, mimicking the way he had done that day.
"Ah—"
She told him to open his mouth.
Xie Jilian was momentarily stunned. His amber pupils reflected Xu Qiaoxi's mouth opening round and wide. The custard's dual flavor—salty first, then sweet—intertwined and merged on his tongue.
His heart was suddenly seized. He panicked silently.
If he opened his mouth, his hidden ailment would be exposed to her. If he didn't, she would just sit there obediently at his side, persistently teaching him.
His glass-like pupils turned in bewilderment. Xie Jilian tilted his head away, avoiding her.
Just a subtle movement, yet he felt as though he had expended tremendous effort, his chest heaving uncontrollably with faint gasps.
"Xie Lingjia."
Xu Qiaoxi seemed somewhat displeased, her two faint, slender brows furrowed seriously together.
"Open your mouth."
Xie Jilian tilted his jaw slightly, stubbornly guarding the bad tooth.
Xu Qiaoxi laughed in exasperation.
Where did this childish temper come from?
She simply reached out and straightened Xie Jilian, cupping his face with both hands to hold it steady, looking at him seriously. "Would I ever harm you?"
"Just try it—what if it gets better? A life where you can eat whatever you want is a good one."
With her cupping his cheeks like this, a bit of flesh was squeezed out, bulging in Xu Qiaoxi's palms like fine mutton-fat jade.
In that instant, the jade burned hot.
Fortunately, Xu Qiaoxi quickly released her hands and turned to mix the medicinal powder, and the surging heat beneath Xie Jilian's skin escaped her grasp.
"It's always been bad…"
He murmured softly, wanting to say she was wasting her effort.
"That's exactly why it needs treating."
Xu Qiaoxi scooped up some medicinal powder, her fingers lifting his chin.
"Open wide, ah—"
Xie Jilian raised his jaw slightly, his gaze slanting down to her brows and eyes. Perhaps because she was making such a fuss, his body trembled slightly, and both hands instinctively gripped the thin garment draped over Xu Qiaoxi's shoulders, using it to steady himself.
She felt cool to the touch, her clothes like cold air that couldn't be grasped.
Xie Jilian gripped tighter.
Xu Qiaoxi glanced at his hands, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.
"Don't be afraid, it's just applying medicine, not pulling a tooth."
With one hand supporting his chin and the other waiting as he slowly opened his mouth, she slipped the thin bamboo spoon laden with powder inside.
Sure enough, she saw the hollow tooth in his pale pink oral cavity, the surrounding area slightly red and swollen. His moist, soft tongue occasionally lifted as he swallowed nervously.
The bad tooth sat beside the tongue. The bamboo spoon gently pressed against the edge of the tongue, carefully filling the powder into the cavity.
Slightly sour, a bit numb, and more than anything, a tightness at the root of the tooth—that thin thread of discomfort tugged again. Xie Jilian was irritable, but at this moment, one end of that thread was tied to him, and the other to Xu Qiaoxi… As if possessed, he found he had no temper at all.
His gaze drifted, and he saw Xu Qiaoxi's eyes fixed on him, her fluttering lashes, her small, straight nose tip, serene as a peach.
Xie Jilian lifted his tongue and swallowed deeply under her gaze.
"Ah…" Xu Qiaoxi was interrupted by him, raising her eyes to meet his. "Does it hurt?"
All sorts of chaotic sensations swirled within him, but pain was the one thing absent.
Xie Jilian stared at her and swallowed again, his voice hoarse:
"It hurts."
A flicker of helplessness crossed Xu Qiaoxi's face. For a moment, she couldn't think of how to stop the pain in his mouth, so she could only soften her voice to coax him: "It'll pass in a moment. It shouldn't hurt forever."
The bamboo spoon withdrew from his mouth, and Xu Qiaoxi carefully sealed the porcelain jar. "Don't swallow the powder—just let it sit there. Apply it once every two days. Have Yu Pu remember that well."
"Yu Pu?"
"Mhm."
Xie Jilian's fingers rested against his cheek, a hint of desolation in his eyes.
"Um, Lingjia, I… I've been staying at Red Jade Terrace for quite a while now. Could I go out for a stroll?"
Xu Qiaoxi picked at the porcelain jar with her fingernail. "Actually, I've never really explored Luoyang city. I know nothing about it…"
"There's nothing worth seeing in Luoyang, and with refugees rising everywhere, it's unsafe outside."
Xie Jilian dismissed her flatly, his gaze sweeping over the box of milk custard, then landing on the medicinal powder in Xu Qiaoxi's hands.
So it was a scheme within a scheme.
"With more people accompanying me, it'll be safe. And I promise I won't wander off—I just want to see the local customs and scenery."
"I'm a bit tired of Red Jade Terrace… If you're really worried, I could invite the Wang family's young lady to come along? We'll bring people from both the Wang and Xie households—nothing will happen."
She blinked, sincere and eager.
Xie Jilian let out a helpless laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose, at a loss against Xu Qiaoxi's childish "trap."
She had gone to such lengths—making milk custard and tending to his medicine so diligently—refusing outright seemed almost heartless.
"One hour."
"You must return after one hour with her. If the refugees riot, it's no laughing matter."
Wang Mu'ai hadn't expected Xu Qiaoxi to take the initiative to invite her out. Curious, and also mindful of Xu Qiaoxi's condition, she arrived early upon receiving the invitation.
"Is the young madam feeling better?"
Xu Qiaoxi nodded, and remembering how she had thrown a tantrum, crying wildly in front of Wang Mu'ai that day, felt a sudden awkwardness.
The two sat inside the carriage, and beyond the curtain, ragged refugees kept moving about, searching for a place to settle.
There was no room left under the eaves of the streets.
Xu Qiaoxi watched them, her breathing growing tight. "Does the young lady know what's happening out there?"
"Brother Lingjia hasn't told you?"
Wang Mu'ai was somewhat surprised. The court was in chaos like ants on a hot pan—her own elder brother had been staying at the Secretariat for days on end, and Brother Lingjia was equally swamped. Did this young madam truly know nothing of the outside world?
"At its core, it's just three words: 'not peaceful.' The vassal rebellion hasn't been quelled, and now the barbarian invaders are harassing the northern lands. I hear they've already taken thirteen of our cities and are heading straight for Luoyang. On top of that, natural disasters are ravaging us—floods, droughts…"
Wang Mu'ai looked at the hollow-eyed refugees outside the carriage, her heart burning with anguish.
"I've already exchanged all my personal savings for grain to distribute among them, but it's merely a drop in the bucket."
"I could also…"
Xu Qiaoxi was about to say that she barely wore the jewelry from the Red Jade Terrace anyway, so she could sell it for food to save people. But the words caught in her throat as she suddenly remembered—those jewels weren't hers. They were Xie Jilian's.
She couldn't make that decision on her own.
"Miss Wang, has your family decided to head south?"
"This…" Wang Mu'ai raised the vermilion fan in her hand to half-conceal her face, remaining silent for a long moment before slowly nodding.
There was no point in hiding it anymore. More and more aristocratic families were leaving Luoyang, leaving the northern lands. Everyone understood without saying it aloud—abandoning the capital was only a matter of time. Currently, only Xie Jilian's branch remained steadfastly in the capital, making no move at all.
"Could you take me with you when you go south?"
"What?" Wang Mu'ai's pupils widened. "You're Brother Lingjia's concubine—how could you…"
A runaway concubine held a status even lower than a slave.
Xu Qiaoxi wanted to explain that she would soon no longer be Xie Jilian's concubine, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. She could only endure Wang Mu'ai's shocked gaze, propping her cheeks with both hands in frustration.
Over these past days, she had pored through books and gradually come to accept that returning to the modern era was an exceedingly remote possibility.
She needed to plan for herself, and the best option was to go south.
As for Xie Jilian… well, he was a young lord of the Chen Commandery Xie clan. It wasn't her place to worry about him.
It was indeed heartless of her—Xu Qiaoxi had cursed herself for it at night—but after the self-reproach passed, she still had to survive.
The air inside the carriage grew stagnant, and suddenly the vehicle came to a halt.
Xu Qiaoxi was about to ask what was happening when the driver called out frantically through the curtain: "Young Madam, Miss Wang, th-th-this person is covered in blood!"
Xu Qiaoxi and Wang Mu'ai exchanged a glance. They quietly lifted the curtain and looked outside.
In front of the ox cart, a thin, half-grown youth wandered aimlessly, disheveled and barefoot, wearing a loose black robe. He clutched something round against his chest, and blood dripped steadily from his sleeves and the hem of his garments.
When she recognized the youth's face, the fan in Wang Mu'ai's hand dropped instantly.
"Your Majesty!"