In the morning, the physician paid a visit. After checking her pulse, he noted that she was slightly better, but emphasized that a lingering cough was difficult to cure and required several more days of rest.
Ji Hanyi was content as long as she felt the cold was improving. Her coughing was only severe at night; during the day, it barely troubled her.
However, just as Ji Hanyi began to recover, her mother-in-law’s condition took a turn for the worse.
Naturally, Ji Hanyi had to attend to her mother-in-law. First Madam Lin was vomiting incessantly. The imperial physician arrived and diagnosed it as a “chilled stomach,” prescribing a regimen of medicine that kept the entire household busy.
Members of the second and third branches of the family arrived to offer their concerns. The room grew stiflingly crowded, thick with the smell of decoctions and the drone of voices.
Ji Hanyi was pushed to the periphery. She felt a wave of dizziness and found it difficult to breathe.
Fortunately, the relatives only stayed long enough to offer brief pleasantries. Seeing that First Madam Lin was too weak to speak much, they soon departed, leaving the room empty save for Ji Hanyi.
Ji Hanyi had not yet fully recovered from her own illness. After a full afternoon of caretaking, as twilight deepened, she leaned heavily against a small side table. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead, her face turned deathly pale, and her body began to go limp.
A nearby maidservant rushed over to support her, preventing her from collapsing onto the floor. Noticing Ji Hanyi’s pallor, the woman whispered urgently, “The First Madam is asleep now. You should rest as well, Young Madam. We must have the physician look at you immediately.”
At that moment, Li Mingrou entered. Seeing Ji Hanyi leaning weakly against the table, she said, “I will take over caring for my aunt. Sister-in-law, please go and rest.”
Ji Hanyi’s body was wracked with shivers. She lacked even the strength to speak, feeling as though she might lose consciousness at any second.
She gripped Rong Chun’s hand tightly, mustering enough strength to nod. Only then did she allow Rong Chun to support her as they walked out.
Outside, the cold wind bit into her sweat-dampened forehead, a piercing, bone-chilling sensation. The lanterns illuminating the path seemed to double in her vision, blurry and hazy. For a fleeting moment, she was reminded of her childhood—of her father returning from a social engagement and carrying her on his back through the night.
Her eyes grew moist for an instant, but she forced the tears back. She tilted her head back, letting the cold snow fall onto her face. The tiny pinpricks of ice gradually cleared her mind.
Leaning heavily on Rong Chun, she continued the walk back.
Rong Chun looked at Ji Hanyi’s face with deep concern. “Young Madam, what is wrong?”
Ji Hanyi closed her eyes and shook her head, speaking with great effort. “We’ll talk once we’re back.”
Upon returning to her courtyard, Ji Hanyi had barely settled onto the bed when she turned her head and retched. The maids in the room were terrified and frantically sent for the physician again.
The physician arrived, examined her, and sighed. “The Young Madam is suffering from chills and fever. Her cold had not yet healed when she was exposed to the wind and overexerted herself. This has resulted in body aches and a worsening of the cold. Furthermore, she is naturally blood-deficient, which has led to a disharmony of the internal organs.”
He studied Ji Hanyi’s complexion closely before adding in a low voice, “The Young Madam must not be exposed to the cold again. She absolutely must rest for several days.”
Rong Chun felt a pang of resentment as she watched from the side.
Many people had visited the First Madam today, but most had only offered empty words of concern. The only one who had stayed to provide actual care was Ji Hanyi. As a daughter-in-law, she could not shirk her duty, but it was no wonder her condition had worsened after being subjected to the cold wind while already ill.
Ji Hanyi leaned back with her eyes closed. She thought of how one illness had followed another; it was truly a burden.
Outside, Rong Chun saw the physician off and ordered the maids to brew the medicine. As she was about to turn back, she saw a pageboy from the gatehouse approaching in a hurry. She stopped him and asked, “What is it?”
The boy held a letter and said respectfully, “A letter from the Gu residence. They said I must deliver it into the First Young Madam’s hands personally.”
Hearing it was from the Gu family and seeing it delivered so late, Rong Chun sensed it was urgent. She said quickly, “The Young Madam is ill. Give the letter to me; I will take it in.”
Rong Chun was Ji Hanyi’s personal maid brought from her parental home, so she was entirely trustworthy. The boy promptly handed over the letter.
Ji Hanyi, leaning against the headboard, paused when she heard Rong Chun mention a letter from the Gu family. She reached out and took it.
The letter was sealed with wax. She lowered her eyes and opened the envelope. The candlelight from the nearby stand cast a bright glow over the handwriting.
By the time she reached the end, Ji Hanyi silently tucked the letter back into its envelope.
Standing beside her, Rong Chun asked anxiously, “Is it… is it the Young Madam’s mother? Has her illness…”
Ji Hanyi shook her head. She coughed and stared silently at the flickering candle flame.
The letter was from her grandmother. An officer from the Eastern Depot of the Embroidered Uniform Guard had arrested her cousin, Gu Xun, who was still a student at the Imperial Academy. He had already been taken to the Northern Imperial Prison today.
There was no need to wonder what kind of treatment he would receive there. Everyone knew that no one could withstand the torture of the Northern Imperial Prison; people confessed quickly, and many died within its walls.
She knew why her grandmother had written to her so urgently. The husband of the Xie family’s eldest daughter, Xie Jin, was the Commander of the Northern Imperial Prison. If he were willing to release Gu Xun, it would not be a difficult matter.
Ji Hanyi felt a throbbing pain in her temples and pressed her fingers to her forehead.
Gu Xun had been seized because he had privately discussed Dunjia military tactics and Taiyi numerology. Such a matter could be treated as minor or severe, depending entirely on how those in power chose to judge it. The court had been strictly investigating “heretical books,” and many had been implicated.
If the matter were escalated, the entire Gu family might be dragged down. But the current Gu family was like a withered branch in a storm; it could not withstand such a trial.
Ji Hanyi closed her eyes wearily. Xie Jin was the eldest daughter of the first branch, born to Madam Lin. She had always been arrogant and looked down on others. If Ji Hanyi went to her, she would never agree—unless Xie Yuheng spoke up.
But she knew that asking Xie Yuheng for help was the most futile path of all. Moreover, in Xie Yuheng’s heart, she was of no consequence, and the Gu family mattered even less. Even if she did speak, he likely wouldn’t even consider it.
Her thoughts grew increasingly strained as she searched for a solution. Ji Hanyi placed the letter under her pillow and asked Rong Chun to help her up.
Rong Chun startled and said, “Young Madam, where are you going?”
Ji Hanyi felt an ache in her bones with every movement. A heavy weight pressed against her chest as she whispered, “To the study.”
Rong Chun said anxiously, “The study is all the way in the rear gallery. You’ll surely catch more wind if you go out now. Tell me what you need, and I will fetch it for you.”
Ji Hanyi looked at the worry on Rong Chun’s face and nodded. “Bring me paper and ink.”
Rong Chun nodded quickly. She helped Ji Hanyi lie back down before rushing out.
Once the writing materials were brought, Ji Hanyi sat on the Luohan couch with a cloak draped over her shoulders. Two braziers were placed nearby, casting a warm glow over her moon-white undergarment.
She held the brush, but for a long time, she could not bring herself to set it to paper.
Rong Chun knelt to poke at the charcoal, then handed a freshly warmed hand furnace to Ji Hanyi. Seeing the brush suspended in mid-air for so long, she couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Who is the Young Madam writing to?”
Ji Hanyi pursed her lips. Her long, thick lashes cast shadows over her eyes. Her voice was very soft. “The Shen Residence.”
Rong Chun froze. She hadn’t expected the Young Madam to suddenly write to the Shen family.
There were many noble houses in the capital, but if one were to speak of the most prestigious, it was undoubtedly the Shen family. And the most prominent figure within that family was the Fifth Master Shen, who at a young age had already risen to the position of Left Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate.
He was the Empress’s younger brother. His brother-in-law was the Emperor himself. His father had been a three-reign statesman enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple, a former Grand Secretary and the Emperor’s teacher.
Marquis Shen was the youngest son of the old Grand Secretary, the sole descendant of that lineage. He had been enfeoffed as the Marquis of Rong’en by the Emperor just as he reached adulthood, becoming the youngest Marquis in the land.
The Shen family had supported the Emperor throughout the struggle for the throne, and the Empress had even taken an arrow for him. Now, the Emperor and Empress shared a deep affection; the imperial harem was sparse, and both princes were born of the Empress. No one dared offend the Shen family.
Rong Chun looked down at the still-blank paper and whispered, “Is the Young Madam writing to Marquis Shen?”
Ji Hanyi’s lips remained pressed together, but in her mind, she saw Shen Si’s cold, distant eyes.
She supported her head with one hand, her fingertips tightening. Finally, the brush descended, and she wrote the first character.
But before she could finish the letter, the sound of footsteps came from behind. Ji Hanyi turned and saw a cold-faced Xie Yuheng walking in.
He had not yet changed out of his official robes, nor had he even removed his cloak. His shoulders were damp with moisture, bringing with him the biting chill of winter.