As soon as class was dismissed, Gu Ci was more energetic than anyone else.
He stretched his limbs and prepared to slip away, when his peripheral vision caught sight of the moon-white sleeve of the Seventh Prince, which had been stained red with blood at some unknown point.
Gu Ci was startled instantly, all drowsiness vanishing. He hurried over to Jun Yichen’s side, grabbed his arm, and urged anxiously, “Your Highness, why has this wound split open again? We need to find a place to bandage it right away.”
A glimmer of dark light flashed deep within Jun Yichen’s eyes. He slowly opened his mouth, his voice low and feeble: “Ah Ci, if you have important matters, go ahead. I’m not bothered; it just hurts a little.” These few sparse words sounded as though he had exhausted his entire body’s strength.
Gu Ci’s heart skipped a beat. What was going on with this villainous big shot being both pitiful and delicate?
It actually made one instinctively feel a trace of… pity.
Gu Ci couldn’t help shivering and forcibly suppressed all those abnormal thoughts of his.
“Your Highness, I’ll escort you back.”
“Then… Ah Ci, will this delay your matters?” Jun Yichen seemed terribly afraid of delaying Gu Ci’s important business because of himself.
Without a word of refusal, Gu Ci grabbed Jun Yichen’s other hand and hurried toward his prince’s quarters, not forgetting to anxiously pacify him along the way: “Oh, what important matters could I possibly have? Let’s hurry, Your Highness’s wound needs to be treated immediately. If it gets infected, that would be terrible!”
Even if he truly had something important, he couldn’t disregard the Seventh Prince’s safety.
Jun Yichen’s gaze landed on the hand held by Gu Ci, a profound meaning glinting in his eyes. Perhaps even he himself didn’t understand he, who had always suffered from severe mysophobia and kept no one to serve him closely, did not loathe, and even somewhat… anticipated, Gu Ci’s touch.
How truly interesting.
“Quick, where is that Nanny from before? Have her come bandage His Highness.”
Gu Ci pulled him into the inner hall, carefully settled him down to sit, and anxiously shouted toward the outside of the hall.
Before anyone could respond, he heard Jun Yichen leisurely speak up from beside him: “Nanny Lin took leave today due to illness, and I don’t have any surplus servants here.”
Nanny Lin, who had just been about to step into the inner hall upon hearing this, stiffly raised her head and locked eyes with her master’s frost-filled gaze. She was so frightened that she shivered all over and almost tumbled over; if Mowu hadn’t grabbed her and yanked her away, her old bones would likely have met their end right there.
Watching Mowu silently drag Nanny Lin away, and then glancing at Gu Ci before him—seeing that he didn’t seem to have noticed the preceding scene, Jun Yichen curled the corners of his lips in satisfaction.
“If you don’t mind, let me bandage Your Highness. When I was at the border before, I also helped injured soldiers handle wounds; it should be fine.”
Jun Yichen looked at his expression and knew he had misunderstood.
“Then I must trouble Ah Ci.”
Gu Ci gently rolled up his sleeve, exposing the bloody wound right before his eyes, giving him a slight momentary daze. Although it was a soul transmigration, he still harbored a congenital aversion to blood.
That night, the darkness had been too thick, so he hadn’t noticed that the wounds the Seventh Prince suffered were actually this severe.
With no one around to serve him, how had this Seventh Prince managed to get through all these years?
Yet, come to think of it, even the most severe wounds ought to be mostly healed after several days.
Looking at the still-bloody wound now, it rather looked as though it had been forcefully ripped apart by someone.
His thoughts shifted slightly, though he merely figured he was overthinking things who could possibly be so perverted?
Gu Ci retrieved a small porcelain bottle from his bosom, and just as he opened it to pour it onto the wound, he abruptly stopped his movement and stiffly explained, “This is hemostatic medicine my grandfather brought back from the borderlands; it has a very good healing effect on wounds.” The unspoken implication was that it was non-toxic, so Your Highness could rest assured.
Jun Yichen acted as though he hadn’t caught the subtext in his words, smiling brightly as he took over the conversation: “Thank you, Ah Ci. Medicine brought back by Marquis Anguo is bound to be the kind of superior healing remedy even the palace lacks. Using it on me is truly a waste.” Although he said that, his face showed not the slightest trace of a guilty conscience.
Gu Ci let out a soft breath of relief on his side, carefully bandaged Jun Yichen’s wound, left the remaining hemostatic medicine with him, and meticulously instructed him to change the dressing on time.
Only after finishing all this did he realize that a fine layer of sweat had unconsciously formed on his forehead.
Jun Yichen seemed to have sensed this long ago. He naturally handed over a handkerchief and spoke in a gentle tone: “Ah Ci, wipe it quickly. You’ve worked hard.” With that, he stared unblinkingly at Gu Ci.
Gu Ci took the handkerchief, wiped himself carefully, and after a moment of thought, tucked the handkerchief into his bosom. “I’ll return it to Your Highness after I go back and wash it.”
“I’ll give it to Ah Ci. It’s just a handkerchief, after all.”
Gu Ci paused slightly, casting an unperturbed glance at the meticulous decor within the hall, and his mind settled. It was said that big shots all had cleanliness obsessions; it seemed the Seventh Prince was especially so.
“With noon approaching, why doesn’t Ah Ci stay and share a meal?”
Gu Ci was just about to decline when he saw Jun Yichen gazing at him with eyes full of expectation.
“Alright, I just happened to be getting hungry.”
Since he had already agreed, Gu Ci didn’t stand on ceremony. After expressing his thanks, he sat right down beside Jun Yichen, pouring himself a cup of tea with practiced familiarity to sip and savor slowly.
Jun Yichen couldn’t help staring in a daze. Gu Ci looked extremely handsome, radiating a faint, orchid-like fragrance that possessed an uplifting and refreshing magic.
Dishes were quickly served onto the table.
Looking at the large spread of balanced meat and vegetable dishes before him, Gu Ci’s appetite was instantly piqued.
He first picked up a piece of squirrel-shaped mandarin fish; the moment he popped it into his mouth, his eyes narrowed slightly, revealing surprise and satisfaction, as if sparkling with delighted brilliance.
“This dish tastes exceptionally good. I’ve never eaten anything this delicious outside the palace,” Gu Ci smiled and said, “The chef in Your Highness’s palace truly has wonderful culinary skills.”
Jun Yichen gave a soft acknowledgment and likewise picked up some food to put into his mouth. As they ate, the two chatted idly. The topic unconsciously shifted toward poetry.
“Ah Ci, do you have any favorite verses?” Jun Yichen asked.
Gu Ci pondered for a moment and replied: “‘If life could be as initial encounters, why would the autumn wind grieve the painted fan?’ I quite like this line, but I’m not very well-versed in literature, so I’ll let Your Highness laugh at me.”
“Not at all; this verse is indeed wonderful,” Jun Yichen agreed with a nod. “However, I prefer ‘Though my clothes grow loose, I have no regrets; for her, I waste away in sorrow and distress.'” When he said this, his gaze fell intentionally or unintentionally on Gu Ci, a trace of imperceptible sentiment flashing in his eyes.
A slight jolt stirred within Gu Ci’s heart, though he didn’t show it. He hurriedly changed the subject: “Your Highness, thank you for your hospitality today. If there’s a chance another day, I’ll take you to eat at Fude Restaurant; their food and wine might not compare to Your Highness’s palace, but it’s still quite good.”
Jun Yichen smiled and said, “Don’t be so polite, Ah Ci. Since you and I are friends, why be so distant?”
After the meal, Gu Ci bid farewell to Jun Yichen and left.
Standing at the doorway, Jun Yichen watched his receding figure, a smile inevitably blooming at the corners of his mouth.
Playing with the folding fan in his hand, his expression shifted slightly. He could tell that Gu Ci likely had some matter that required his assistance to handle.
He softly called out “Mowu” toward the empty air, and the black-robed man, who had been absent from the hall just a moment ago, silently knelt down.
“Go and check where the Marquis’s Heir went after leaving the palace.”
The masked man acknowledged the order and retreated.