“You’re awake?”
Chahar pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside, removing his outer robe and setting it by the entrance.
Lianxin had already helped Lin Jiayan wash up and had loosely gathered her long hair into a simple bun that rested by her ear.
The moment Lin Jiayan thought about how he had changed her bandages and clothes while she was unconscious, her cheeks flushed crimson. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
Noticing the tips of her ears had turned red, Chahar thought her fever had returned. He cupped her face and checked her forehead.
“No fever.” Lin Jiayan turned away from his hand.
One of Chahar’s brows lifted. He immediately guessed what was making her so self-conscious.
“Since you’re awake, let’s take another look at the prescription and see how it should be adjusted. Your illness has dragged on for too long.”
Most of the tribe had already recovered. Lin Jiayan’s medicine had proven remarkably effective, and the grassland people were naturally robust, allowing them to heal quickly.
“Cough… It’s no use.”
Compared to everyone else, her body was like a worn-out sieve. No matter how much medicine she drank, it seemed to leak away before it could take effect.
All she could do was wait for her body to slowly repair itself.
Looking at her increasingly delicate, pointed chin, Chahar’s heart ached.
“This is my fault. I came back too late.”
“It’s not—”
“Yanyan.”
A knock at the door interrupted them.
Chahar stood to open it. Dulan entered carrying a bulky bundle.
“What’s this?” Lin Jiayan asked.
“Your old clothes are gone, so I had a few new ones made for you in a hurry. They’re our traditional grassland style. Chahar gave us your measurements. Try them on later.”
“…”
If her cheeks had merely been pink before, now they turned a deep scarlet.
Seeing her embarrassment, Dulan handed the clothes to Chahar and tactfully changed the subject.
“Yanyan, Aming survived because of you. Thanks to your efforts, this epidemic never turned into a disaster. Everyone’s waiting for you to recover so they can thank you properly.”
“I’m just glad everyone’s all right. There’s no need to thank me.”
Lin Jiayan was exhausted. Every time she woke up now, she only had enough energy to stay awake for a short while.
Seeing her fatigue, Dulan urged her to rest before taking her leave.
After her fever had broken, she’d sweated heavily. Her back still felt damp and uncomfortable.
As she shifted slightly, Chahar immediately noticed.
“You’ve been sweating. Do you want to change clothes?”
After caring for her these past days, he had become intimately familiar with all her unconscious habits and little movements.
“I… I’ll do it myself.”
Being cared for while unconscious was one thing, but now that she was awake, she couldn’t let Chahar do everything for her.
Chahar glanced at her bandaged right hand and raised an eyebrow.
“Can you manage on your own?”
“…Go outside.”
He set the clothes beside the bed but merely turned around, presenting her with his back instead of leaving.
“I won’t look.”
Left with no choice, Lin Jiayan hid beneath the blankets and awkwardly struggled to change.
Listening to the rustling sounds behind him, Chahar’s ears twitched. He touched his nose awkwardly.
As expected, now that she was awake, she refused to let him help. She was just too shy.
The clothes Dulan had brought were traditional grassland attire. After fumbling with them under the blankets for a long while, Lin Jiayan still couldn’t figure out how to wear them properly.
In her frustration, she accidentally pulled at one of her wounds.
“Hiss…”
Chahar immediately stood and walked to the window, drawing the curtain shut and plunging the room into darkness.
Feeling him approach, Lin Jiayan tensed.
“I’ll help you.”
Since it was pitch black and she couldn’t see anything anyway—and her injuries made it impossible to dress herself properly—she finally nodded.
“Okay.”
Chahar expertly loosened her clothing and carefully dressed her in fresh garments, avoiding every one of her injuries with practiced precision.
Whenever his rough, calloused hands brushed against her skin, Lin Jiayan couldn’t help but tremble.
“Cold?”
Chahar paused, pulling the blanket tighter around her before quickly finishing.
When light flooded back into the room, Lin Jiayan curled up like a shrimp with her back facing him.
Chahar couldn’t suppress a smile.
Over the past several days, he had already seen and touched every inch of her body while caring for her. Yet simply helping her change clothes now was enough to leave her mortified.
It seemed he would have to take things slowly.
Her face still burning, Lin Jiayan suddenly remembered something.
“Where do you sleep at night?”
“Here, of course.”
Chahar shrugged as if asking where else he was supposed to sleep.
“…”
“You keep running a fever at night. I need to take care of you—feed you medicine, wipe away your tears…”
And bathe you, change your clothes, and apply medicine to your wounds, he thought with an unreadable smile.
“You’re my princess consort. Isn’t taking care of you my responsibility?”
“I… Lianxin could take care of me…”
Chahar’s expression darkened instantly, looking genuinely hurt.
“You don’t trust me?”
“Huh? Why would you say that?”
“I let you get hurt and sick. I let others wrong you and caused you so much suffering. You were nearly kidnapped because of me. If you blame me, you have every right to.”
He lowered his gaze.
“I deserve punishment. I’ll go to my father and ask for fifty lashes.”
With that, he turned to leave.
How had the conversation turned into this?
That wasn’t what she meant at all.
“Wait—don’t go.”
A sly smile flickered across Chahar’s lips, but when he turned around, he wore a pitiful expression.
“There’s no need to stop me, Princess. After the punishment, if I can’t get out of bed, Lianxin can take care of you instead.”
How had things become so absurd?
Lin Jiayan rubbed her aching forehead.
“Just… don’t go.”
Knowing when to stop, Chahar immediately returned to the bedside and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Does your head hurt? Why don’t you sleep a little longer?”
Lin Jiayan closed her eyes and nodded, clutching tightly at the corner of his robe.
“Don’t leave.”
“Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
He adjusted his position so she could rest comfortably in his arms.
Over the past few days, Lin Jiayan had grown accustomed to the warmth of his embrace.
Nestled against him, she felt an overwhelming sense of security and soon drifted back to sleep.
Over the following days, Chahar remained by her side for every meal and every dose of medicine.
Whenever Lin Jiayan showed the slightest reluctance, he would either offer to punish himself or threaten to accept military punishment. Unable to argue with him, she could only obediently force down bowl after bowl of bitter medicine.
“Good girl.”
After she finished the last bowl in one gulp, Chahar quickly placed a preserved plum in her mouth.
“What did Cheren put in this? Why is it so bitter?”
Lin Jiayan frowned and pressed a hand against her chest.
“It’s all for strengthening your body. Good medicine is always bitter.”
Chahar lifted her onto his lap and gently patted her back to help settle the medicine.
She felt as though she had consumed all the bitter medicine she had avoided in her previous life. Even her breathing seemed bitter now.
The new clothes Dulan had sent were narrow-sleeved riding attire unique to the grasslands. A broad white jade belt accentuated her slender waist, which had grown even thinner during her illness.
Chahar knew the medicine left a bitter taste in her mouth and ruined her appetite, so he constantly searched for snacks to help ease it.
“Stick out your tongue. Let me take a look.”
He checked her tongue every day now.
Earlier, she had bitten it so badly that even drinking water had hurt.
Obediently, Lin Jiayan stuck out the tip of her tongue.
“It looks much better now.”
The last time she had bitten it, she had drawn so much blood that she couldn’t even swallow it in time.
Just remembering it made Chahar’s heart ache.
“It feels much better now. Eating doesn’t hurt anymore.”
As she drew back her soft pink tongue, Chahar’s throat tightened.
“Don’t ever do that again. Where did you learn to bite your tongue to commit suicide?”
Rubbing her eyes, Lin Jiayan answered vaguely,
“I know.”
As they grew more accustomed to physical closeness, Lin Jiayan no longer blushed as fiercely as before whenever they touched.
Even a kiss on the back of her hand no longer made her face turn red.