The Emperor arrived at Zi Ying’s door and knocked personally, but there was no response from within. After knocking several times, Li Chong’s previously composed expression shifted; he looked up, a sharp, panicked glint flashing in his eyes.
He stepped back and kicked the door open. The palace attendants behind him were so frightened that they fell to their knees in a row with heavy thuds.
Li Chong strode into the room, scanned it quickly, and headed straight for the bed. Sure enough.
Zi Ying’s face was flushed, his eyes tightly shut, clearly in an abnormal state.
Li Chong’s voice was low, laced with a hint of fury, as he called out:
“Zi Ying! Zi Ying!”
Li Chong called out with urgency. Even though he masked it well, still appearing to outsiders as the dignified and cold-blooded monarch, the panic in his heart could not deceive himself.
His hands reacted faster than his brain, already reaching out to touch Zi Ying’s forehead.
But the next moment, his heart sank: Zi Ying did not have a fever! So what had happened to cause him to be in this state?
“Someone! Summon the imperial physician!”
“Yes.”
The attendants scrambled out in a panic. Not long after, an imperial physician arrived, drenched in sweat.
“I pay my respects to Your Majesty.”
“Come and see what is wrong with the Grand Eunuch.”
“Yes.”
The physician checked Zi Ying’s pulse, frowning and looking bewildered. After a long while, cold sweat broke out over his face, yet he still could not fathom the cause.
Who in the palace did not know how much the Emperor valued the Grand Eunuch? He feared his life was forfeit this time.
The physician’s legs trembled as he knelt, bowing his head to plead for mercy:
“Your Majesty, I am incompetent. The Grand Eunuch’s pulse is truly, truly strange. I—I cannot diagnose the condition for the time being.”
The young Emperor’s face grew so dark it seemed as if water were dripping from it. His eagle-like eyes stared at the physician, who was shaking like chaff.
“What did you say?”
At the Emperor’s words, the physician felt his gall bladder might burst. He bowed his head again, hardening his resolve:
“I am incompetent! I beg for Your Majesty’s mercy! Mercy, Your Majesty!”
The Emperor’s eyes were blood-red. Looking at the situation before him, he suddenly felt as if his heart had been hollowed out, leaving behind only boundless fear.
What was wrong with Zi Ying? Could Zi Ying not wake up? How could this be? How could he suddenly.
Mad with fear, he kicked the physician in the chest:
“What do you mean? Are you cursing him? You are right, you are incompetent! If you are this incompetent, why serve as an imperial physician? Someone, drag him out and behead him!”
The physician finally fainted from sheer terror and was dragged out by the guards like a limp noodle.
Just then, the person on the bed slowly stirred. A clear, calm voice stopped the guards’ actions.
“Stop.”
It was Zi Ying.
By now, Zi Ying had returned to his normal state, his complexion the usual clean, pale white. He sat up, stepped off the bed, and knelt on one knee to pay respects to the Emperor.
He used the traditional salute of a martial official.
“Your Majesty, I am fine. Please calm your anger and spare the physician.”
Li Chong stared with disbelief, watching as Zi Ying performed what felt like a magic trick, going from that unconscious state to now, perfectly normal, as if nothing had ever happened.
“You…”
Li Chong did not suspect that Zi Ying was playing tricks; he knew too well that this man would not and would disdain to play such games before him. Clearly, all Zi Ying needed to do was show a little softness or bow his head once, and he would have poured his heart out to him. Yet, over these years, Zi Ying had remained respectful and obedient in bed, but this attitude, soft yet steely was something only he, as the one living it, truly understood.
Zi Ying’s heart had long ago cast him a thousand miles away.
Still, Zi Ying’s intercession for the physician, combined with his abnormal condition, made it understandable why the physician had reacted as he did upon checking his pulse.
“Fine. Strip him of three months’ salary and send him back to the Imperial Medical Academy.”
“Yes.”
Watching the physician being hauled toward the medical academy, Zi Ying felt a silent relief. If an innocent person had been implicated because of him, he would have been truly guilty.
The Emperor waved his sleeves, and the attendants all withdrew. He did not speak; he was waiting for Zi Ying to give him an explanation. Zi Ying, however, asked with a calm expression:
“Does Your Majesty still wish to sleep here tonight? Shall I prepare for your bath?”
A wave of fury erupted in Li Chong’s chest. He fiercely grabbed Zi Ying by the collar. The tall, slender man was forced to look into his eyes.
“Don’t you have anything to explain to me?”
Zi Ying gave a sudden, light chuckle:
“Explain? What is there to explain? I merely took a short nap; why does that provoke such rage in Your Majesty?”
The Emperor laughed in his extreme anger:
“Ha, a ‘short nap’? Can a short nap leave you unconscious and immobile, like… like a dead man?”
Without knowing why, when he spoke that word, the Emperor’s heart trembled violently. A moment ago, he had truly thought that Zi Ying was, thankfully.
Zi Ying did not speak, nor did he struggle, simply staring back with indifference at the Emperor’s distorted, angry visage.
Is it worth it? Why bother? I am merely a broken body now, like a doll you grew accustomed to holding in childhood. Even if it is ruined and discarded, you are just too habituated to it to throw it away.
What are you afraid of? Afraid that I will scold you for being a cold-hearted, unfaithful lover? Hehe, I would never do that, A-Chong. I never would.
Inside the Prince Ding estate, preparations for the wedding were in full swing. Xie Zhengming waited eagerly for the day, wishing every day that today were the tenth of the third month. But there was no help for it; he was a Prince, and the date could not be rushed. Moreover, he feared that any rashness on his part might invite further complications for him and Qin Duan. He was truly terrified now; ever since the miracle of rebirth had occurred, he could no longer help but feel a sense of awe toward the gods and Buddhas.
As the day grew nearer, Xie Zhengming became increasingly nervous. The regrets left from his past life, the things left unfinished, were finally to be realized in this one; he was terrified of any slip-ups. Thus, apart from attending court, Xie Zhengming remained nearly inseparable from Qin Duan these past few days, often leaving Qin Duan caught between laughter and tears.
Near dawn, when Qin Duan got up to use the chamber pot, Xie Zhengming sat up as well, looking thoroughly on edge. Qin Duan turned back, helpless:
“I am going to relieve myself; do you intend to accompany me there as well?”
Xie Zhengming nodded quickly:
“Mhm, I will accompany you.”
Qin Duan clutched his forehead:
“Ah-Zheng, that is enough. Do you think a grown man like me could get lost in the Prince’s estate? Go back to sleep.”
Xie Zhengming lay down reluctantly, but unexpectedly, he drifted into a hazy sleep and had a nightmare that left him drenched in a cold sweat.
In the dream, he met Qin Duan on the street, but Qin Duan acted as if he didn’t see him, turning to take the hand of a Miss Li walking beside him and whispering something with the utmost tenderness. As for him, he was left behind like an abandoned husband. In the dream, Xie Zhengming reached out to grab a corner of Qin Duan’s clothing, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not catch up to the couple who looked so much like a match made in heaven.
“No, no! Qin Duan, Qin Duan, come back! Come back.”
“Ah-Zheng? Ah-Zheng?”
Qin Duan called his name with concern, shaking Xie Zhengming awake from the nightmare.
Xie Zhengming’s long, narrow peach-blossom eyes were wide open, though it seemed as if a veil of mist blocked his vision.
“What is it? Did you have a bad dream?”
Hearing Qin Duan’s voice, Xie Zhengming’s consciousness gradually returned. He hurriedly gripped Qin Duan’s hand, his brow furrowed with the vulnerability of a child.
“Duan’er, don’t, don’t leave me.”
Qin Duan felt his heart soften and ache simultaneously.
“What kind of talk is this? How could I leave you? Are we not… about to be married?”
Speaking of the marriage, Qin Duan still felt a bit shy, yet they were indeed to become husband and wife, no longer merely “sworn brothers” who couldn’t be presented in polite society. They could sleep together in life and be buried together in death.
Xie Zhengming pressed his forehead against Qin Duan’s and let out a heavy breath, nodding as if he had been reborn from a near-death experience.