That evening, Li Chongjun’s supper included a new dish: stewed lamb with cistanche and yam.
Cistanche nourishes yin, yam nourishes yin, and lamb also nourishes yin.
The kitchen of the residence was always under Madam Xia’s control. To serve him such a dish was essentially to announce to everyone that, though Prince Wei was gravely injured, he still hadn’t forgotten to flaunt his lust in broad daylight.
Li Chongjun, to his credit, ate it without changing expression. Sui Sui was relieved for him. If not for his weakened body, he would probably have had a nosebleed on the spot.
As the saying goes, “Once bitten, twice shy.” Madam Xia, seeing how Sui Sui slipped in everywhere, became all the more vigilant. She ordered servants and maids to shadow Li Chongjun constantly. Even if he summoned Sui Sui, she would lurk nearby, glaring from not too far away.
In her eyes, Sui Sui was practically a demon reborn—ready at any moment to loosen her clothes and drain a man’s essence.
Later, when Li Chongjun’s health indeed improved, Madam Xia credited herself, boasting that it was thanks to her “guarding his essence and preserving his yang.” She grew smug, telling everyone, while secretly tightening her watch.
Naturally, Sui Sui’s reputation as a “calamity” became all the more entrenched.
Sui Sui was miserable—not because of her reputation (she had long since lost that), but because whenever Madam Xia was present, she dared not mention the matter of her jewelry.
Months had passed; the wine shop on South Street had probably already changed hands. Bored day after day, unable to go out, she could only play backgammon with Xiao Yu. Being stingy, she refused to gamble money, so they wagered strips of paper stuck to their faces.
Xiao Yu played terribly, losing every day, and the game grew dull.
The only pastime left that cost nothing was sleep.
Sui Sui never imagined she’d be unlucky enough to be dragged from bed in the middle of the night.
Xiao Yu was terrified, scrambling up and hastily lighting a candle. Sui Sui, clutching her quilt and rubbing her eyes, saw it was two of Madam Xia’s women—and her heart sank.
Sure enough, they said: “His Highness—”
Sui Sui immediately cut in: “His Highness? What His Highness? Isn’t he out? I haven’t seen him all day. What are you bothering me for—”
These days, Li Chongjun had recovered enough to return to his old habits of cockfighting and dog racing.
Poor Governor’s son—whether his broken bones had healed was unknown, but he was surely frightened out of his wits. He never returned to play polo with Li Chongjun.
The women, impatient, said: “Of course. His Highness went out early to play *chuiwan* with the censor’s son, and has only just returned…”
“What do you want with me then?”
One of the women coughed awkwardly: “His Highness is ill.”
Sui Sui was puzzled: “Ill? What kind of illness?—Whatever it is, you should call a physician. I’m no use.”
The woman ground her teeth: “It’s the physician who said the young lady must help treat it.”
Sui Sui refused to believe there was any illness in the world she could cure when doctors could not. But judging from the two women’s stance, they would carry her out if they had to. So she had no choice but to get up and dress.
Dragged from her warm bed in the dead of winter—what misery.
Shivering, she reached the main chamber, her eyelashes frozen stiff. Thankfully, once inside Li Chongjun’s room, warmth enveloped her. Pine branches burned in the brazier, crackling like a gentle rain. Strangely, his attendants were nowhere to be seen. Only two maids, who blushed and quickly withdrew when she entered. Only one servant remained outside the curtain.
Sui Sui frowned, confused, and stepped forward. After half a month, she saw Li Chongjun on this bed again. But unlike last time, when he had seemed composed, now it was obvious something was wrong. His pale skin was flushed as if scalded in hot wine. His whole body looked fevered, muddled, brows tightly furrowed, clearly uncomfortable.
Sui Sui poked his cheek with her finger—he was burning hot.
She asked: “Is His Highness feverish?”
From outside the curtain, the servant stammered: “Today His Highness went out to play *chuiwan*. Later, he drank with Young Master Lu. Because of the snow, they had deer-blood wine to invigorate the blood. His Highness has been weak lately, and Madam Xia has been feeding him warming foods, which already built up heat. With the deer-blood wine, his body couldn’t handle it—too much yang energy, so now he’s feverish…” He rattled on, but it all boiled down to one thing:
Li Chongjun had over-supplemented.
Sui Sui blinked in confusion, then suddenly realized what it meant. She slipped her hand under the quilt. Thankfully, he was still wearing trousers.
She thought there was nothing to fear—until she lifted the quilt and looked down.
This wasn’t just excess yang energy.
It was about to explode.