Gui Water veiled his fingerprints, one ring after another, forming…
The moon was bright and the clouds distant, nearing the second watch.
The maidservants were arranging the warm pavilion in an orderly fashion. With nowhere to go in that brief moment, Xu Qiaoxi had no choice but to let Xie Jilian accompany her in the courtyard to admire the moon.
Xu Qiaoxi actually had no idea what the ancients were really admiring when they looked at the moon.
The moon hung in the sky forever and ever—did it really need to be admired?
"For Qiaoxi to think this way, you must be the most carefree and leisurely soul under heaven—even the famed recluses of the groves couldn't match you."
"Not at all."
His words were always laced with honey. Xu Qiaoxi's shoulders gave a little start, a hint of shyness creeping in, but the moment she met his quietly smiling eyes, she went numb.
No—this wasn't a compliment. He was laughing at her for not understanding refinement.
Her lips curled downward in disdain, and Xu Qiaoxi spoke in a sulky tone: "Then what do you refined gentlemen think about when you admire the moon?"
The smile in Xie Jilian's eyes faded. He lifted his gaze to the moon, yet it seemed as if there were no moon that night—his eyes were hollow and drifting.
"Thinking of one's beloved, one's country; missing one's kin and friends—or perhaps many secrets that one shouldn't even dare to think of."
"Secrets? You have secrets too?"
She had assumed someone as ethereal as Xie Jilian was made of crystal hearts and glass souls, but in truth, everyone was the same.
Xu Qiaoxi suddenly felt a wicked, petty satisfaction in the equality of all beings. She swung her feet with cheerful abandon, her gauze skirt rippling like waves, revealing the pointed tips of her lotus-colored cloud-toe shoes.
They swayed back and forth in the corner of Xie Jilian's vision, mischievously kicking at his thoughts.
Secrets—of course he had them. Xie Jilian was, in fact, someone who had secrets at all times and in all places.
For instance, tonight at the Red Jade Terrace, he had wanted to grab Sima Zhi by the throat.
To sink his fingers into that foolish flesh and windpipe, forcing him to vomit up every drop of the honey water Xu Qiaoxi had fed him—not a single drop left behind.
Such a secret could never be spoken aloud. He couldn't tell Xu Qiaoxi, couldn't tell Sima Zhi, couldn't tell anyone.
It could only be embedded in his heart like a pearl lodged in clam flesh, then dug out again and again, laid bare and bloody for himself to witness.
It was deeply unpleasant—almost self-harm.
But he was willing.
Willing to treat himself so bloodily.
Xie Jilian was also quite pleased. He leaned his waist back, freeing his feet, and gently swung them in imitation of Xu Qiaoxi.
Suddenly, Xu Qiaoxi's feet stopped, her toes pressing against the ground.
"Huh?"
She lowered her head, staring at a certain spot in the flower bushes nearby. She crept over—no more than five or six paces—and crouched down before the flowers, hugging her knees, silent for a long while.
"Qiaoxi?"
Xu Qiaoxi turned her head at the sound, quickly, even with a hint of displeasure.
"Your secret is throwing away the medicine I entrusted to you?"
Like a small pebble striking his brow, Xie Jilian's long lashes trembled slightly.
In the flower bushes lay a porcelain jar. White, round, faintly gleaming in the moonlight—like a bone growing out of the earth, desolate and bare.
He had casually tossed away the porcelain jar containing the medicinal powder when he returned that day.
His teeth had been rotten for many years; he was used to it. There was no need to make a grand change just because of a Xu Qiaoxi.
Xu Qiaoxi dug through the flowers and grass to retrieve the jar. Fortunately, she had screwed the lid on tightly last time—the powder hadn't spilled.
She returned with a stern face and sat down on the stone bench, keeping a bit more distance from Xie Jilian than before.
"Why won't you use the medicine?"
"…It's a bit troublesome."
"Isn't Yu Pu here?"
"No."
Xie Jilian's gaze dropped, his voice very small, as if he himself felt guilty. Xu Qiaoxi glanced at him sideways, a little angry but unable to scold him.
Tooth pain was no small matter—by the time it ached to the marrow, it would be too late.
But Yu Pu had been with him for so long; he must have known about this problem all along. If he couldn't persuade or control him, it wasn't Yu Pu's fault.
Everything Xu Qiaoxi ate and wore was given by Xie Jilian. She kept in mind the debt she owed him. Since no one else could manage him, that meant she would have to be the one to do it.
If she could supervise him until he was cured, then when she left, she wouldn't owe him too much.
"From now on, I'll come here every two days to apply the medicine for you. No dodging."
Her voice was cold, like a child in a private school mimicking the old tutor chanting the classics.
Xie Jilian ordinarily detested that kind of affected posturing, but who would have thought that a child's chanting would actually land a line of timeless wisdom upon him, turning into a binding circlet from which he dared not move thereafter.
In the silence, two maidservants came forward to tell Xu Qiaoxi that everything was prepared, and escorted her into the warm pavilion to rest.
To prevent Xie Jilian from throwing the medicine away again, Xu Qiaoxi gripped the small porcelain jar in both hands, refusing to give it to him, and took it with her.
In the cold white moonlight, her gauze skirt swayed gracefully, and below her waist and hips was a patch of red, neither large nor small.
Probably fallen petals.
Xie Jilian withdrew his gaze, which happened to sweep across the stone bench where she had sat.
A clotted dark red stain seeped into the uneven surface of the stone.
It was blood.
She had gotten her Gui Water tonight, but hadn't noticed herself.
Xie Jilian pressed his palm against the stone bench where she had sat, the warmth barely perceptible. His jade-white fingertips brushed the edge of the stain, and suddenly a surge of impulse rose in his heart.
Bright and clear—more distinct than the moon.
And filthy—something he absolutely should not do.
The night wind whimpered past his ears, and Xie Jilian could hear its hunger growling.
His fingertips moved toward the stain, little by little…
Since she was urging him to use the medicine, it was only fitting that he test whether it had any effect.
Self-deception is precisely the best approach at times like this.
Gui Water obscured the whorls of his fingerprints, forming a blood moon, like ripples emanating from within her body.
Xie Jilian secretly held his fingertip to his lips, curling his tongue to lick it.
There was no taste to speak of. Because there was so little, not even the scent of blood, only a faint hint of sweetness—which was probably due to the candy he often ate.
But Xie Jilian, without any logical basis, still attributed the sweetness to Xu Qiaoxi.
She should taste like this—sweet.
Xie Jilian wanted another taste, but the bloodstain had dried.
He frowned regretfully.
Pinching his sleeve, he bent down and meticulously wiped away the traces of blood Xu Qiaoxi had left behind. Only when the stone bench was spotless did Xie Jilian, with a sleeve stained with faint blood, stroll back to his sleeping quarters.
This new secret brought delight to his tongue—tonight he would have sweet dreams.
The next day, the moment she returned to Red Jade Terrace, Xu Qiaoxi started sprinting from a distance, then leaped with both feet, crashing her entire body into her bed.
Sima Zhi had been taken back to the palace early that morning, so her bed had been returned to its rightful owner.
Last night…
Ah!!
Xu Qiaoxi roared inwardly—having her period was truly annoying!
Her menstruation was almost never on time—sometimes early, sometimes late, sometimes painful, sometimes not. She had no idea when her skirt had soaked through with blood, and she'd spent the whole night sleeping in terror, afraid the sanitary cloth would leak sideways.
Xu Qiaoxi lay sprawled on the bed in a star shape, while Lan Yan and Lu Yun exchanged glances, holding fresh bedding and cushions.
"Don't sleep—get up first. We haven't changed the bedding the Emperor slept on yet…"
"No need to change it. I don't mind the Emperor being dirty."
"Hey! Is that something you can say!" Lan Yan anxiously slapped her thigh.
Xu Qiaoxi was too lazy to move. Having not slept well all night, she had no strength left in her body—if Lan Yan wanted to hit her, let her.
Lu Yun grabbed Lan Yan's hand. "Forget it, forget it. It's that time of the month and she's exhausted. She was running around all day yesterday and had to change sleeping quarters at the last minute… Let her get a good rest."
The two girls carried the bedding in and carried it back out, carefully closing the doors and windows as they left, instructing the servants attending Red Jade Terrace to be careful not to disturb the young lady's nap.
Xu Qiaoxi listened groggily, feeling warm inside.
Lu Yun was soft-hearted, thorough and reliable in her work—younger than her, yet more capable. Lan Yan, though a bit proud, was sharp-witted and just as kind-hearted as Lu Yun. They were both very good to her.
After half a year, when she left, Xu Qiaoxi wondered, would she still be able to come back and visit them from time to time?
A hint of parting melancholy lingered in her mind, and before long she grew drowsy. Xu Qiaoxi could no longer hear Lu Yun and Lan Yan's movements, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Late summer, early autumn—as she slept, her body alternated between hot and cold, her throat tightened, and she felt like coughing and vomiting at once.
Sleeping was truly uncomfortable. Xu Qiaoxi wanted to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt glued shut, unable to move at all.
She didn't know what time it was. Outside, there was a commotion—many people talking.
"The palace is in chaos! The Emperor has contracted the plague!"
"Nonsense, how could the Emperor get the plague?"
"He caught it from the refugees. The Emperor left the palace yesterday—it was our young lady who brought him back from among the refugees, remember?"
"I heard that more than half of the refugees outside Luoyang have already died!"
"Bang—"
Someone burst in, rushing to Xu Qiaoxi's bedside.
"Ah! She's burning up so much!"
Lu Yun cried out in alarm, "Wake up, please wake up!"
Xu Qiaoxi wanted to say she was actually awake—her mind was perfectly clear—but her body had no strength, and she couldn't utter even a single syllable.
Lan Yan gritted her teeth, grabbed Lu Yun, and ran outside. "Go tell the young master! Everyone in Red Jade Terrace must leave—this place can't keep anyone."
Xu Qiaoxi lay quietly in bed, hearing the panicked voices of servants and maids outside, feeling a strange sense of detached emptiness, as if she weren't the protagonist of this chaos.
In some small corner of her heart, a voice even urged her: if she didn't make it through, maybe when she opened her eyes again, she'd be back at school…
Her consciousness began to blur again, until Yu Pu's voice appeared, shouting frantically:
"Young master, you can't go in! That's the plague—it's no joke!"
But his urgency was futile—footsteps drew closer and closer.
A hand gently rested on Xu Qiaoxi's forehead—cool and tender.
"Qiaoxi? Can you hear me?"
Xu Qiaoxi still had no strength, but Xie Jilian was sitting by her bed. If she didn't respond, and he stayed there, he'd be infected—that would be disastrous.
She swallowed against her parched throat and used every ounce of strength she had to move her head slightly.
Xie Jilian felt her scorching head shift slightly beneath his palm and breathed a sigh of relief.
He turned his head. "Yu Pu, go summon the imperial physicians our Xie family knows. Be quick."
"Ah? Young master, the palace is in chaos right now too—His Majesty will certainly need them. The imperial physicians won't be easy to bring…"
Before Yu Pu could finish, Xie Jilian strode fiercely toward the door and stood on the steps, brooking no argument.
"Tie them up if you must. Ask them whether they'd rather offend the Sima family or the Xie family."
Five or six imperial physicians of varying ages gave the same diagnosis: Xu Qiaoxi had truly contracted the plague. But because it had been discovered early, with proper treatment there would be no problem.
However, the number of people within Hongyu Terrace had to be kept to a minimum, and no new servants should be summoned to attend to her because of her illness—otherwise, the entire Qianchuan Chunting would be in jeopardy.
Lu Yun and Lan Yan took away all her clothing, bedding, and every item she had used, and destroyed them. The doors and windows of the bedchamber were sealed shut, leaving Xu Qiaoxi alone lying inside.
The illness was torturous. She wanted to cough but lacked the strength; she wanted to sleep but her head felt like it was burning with fire—aching and scorching, making sleep impossible. She could only endure the suffering.
The dual pain of body and mind was like the world continuing to turn on its own, with only her abandoned.
A single tear slipped silently from the corner of her eye.
She was afraid, wishing someone could keep her company—not even needing to come close, just to let her know there was still a living person nearby. But that would be too selfish; it would harm others.
Her tears flowed more and more, and crying actually made her feel a little better. Being alone wasn't so bad—at least her moments of weakness wouldn't be seen.
In the quiet of the night, the sliding door at the side of the bedchamber suddenly creaked softly.
Like a candlewick bursting, it startled the solitude of Xu Qiaoxi's lonely night.
An octagonal lantern was extended through the doorway and gently placed on the ground. Its warm glow immediately illuminated the bed curtains, like gentle flowing water.
She turned her head with difficulty to look. Outside the door knelt a figure, moonlight slanting in from behind him, outlining a tall and gentle silhouette.
White Jade Guanshiyin.
That statue's image suddenly leapt into her mind, gradually overlapping with the person keeping vigil outside her door.
He said nothing, made no move, only knelt alone on the corridor outside the door—quietly, back to the moonlight, facing her.
She extended her right hand from under the blanket, clenched it into a fist, and knocked softly against the edge of the bed.
A very light, very faint sound—but Xie Jilian heard it.
"Go back. I'm fine."
Xu Qiaoxi wanted to persuade him, but she couldn't stop her tearful voice. As soon as she finished speaking, she turned her cheek against the pillow and sobbed in grievance.
"Lian has brought a short qin. Would Qiaoxi like to hear it?"
He didn't interrupt her breakdown, but instead laid the qin across his knees, his fingertips plucking at the silk strings, the sound of the instrument like breathing brushing through the air.
A gentle, clear, low chant accompanied by crisp qin notes reached Xu Qiaoxi's ears.
"The moon rises bright and fair, my lovely one is fair.
Slowly she moves with grace, my anxious heart is stirred.
The moon rises white and clear, my lovely one is dear.
Gently she sways with ease, my troubled heart is pained."
Playing the qin beneath the moon, a companion by his side. As if tonight held no illness, only leisurely elegance.
Xu Qiaoxi's gaze passed through the bed curtains to rest on Xie Jilian, and a place in her heart softened infinitely.
He was willing to come and endure this bitter wait with her, even at great peril.
Her remaining rationality warned her: Don't—don't ask that foolish question! But her tears flowed freely, enough to drown all reason.
She heard her own tight voice, trembling, as if murmuring to herself:
"Xie Jilian, why are you so good to me…"