Seeing her playful stubbornness, Chen Jinghan’s mood lifted. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “Wife, if you don’t open your mouth, I’ll have to feed it to you myself.”
With that, he lifted the medicine bowl, pretending to take a sip himself.
Fearing he really would feed her mouth-to-mouth, Su Qing’er quickly snatched the bowl and forced herself to drink it down, suppressing her gag reflex.
“Good, now eat this,” Jinghan said, grinning, and revealed two sweet pastries he had specially bought from the market.
Qing’er popped one into her mouth; the bitterness of the medicine instantly vanished, replaced by a warmth that seemed to reach her very heart.
She pressed the other into Jinghan’s mouth, and for a moment, they shared the candy, their eyes meeting with unspoken sweetness.
Jinghan wanted her to lie down and rest a little, but Qing’er held his hand tightly, unwilling to let go.
Nestled together, Qing’er drank her candy and complained of thirst. Jinghan got up to pour water for her, but as he stood, dizziness hit him, and he collapsed straight to the floor.
“Jinghan! Jinghan! Someone help!” Qing’er shouted, struggling to her feet, only to fall again from weakness.
Cui’er rushed in first, horrified to see both masters on the floor, and immediately called for help.
The servants lifted them back onto the bed. Qing’er patted Jinghan’s cheeks, calling his name repeatedly, ignoring her own scrapes and bruises from the fall.
Cui’er hurried to fetch Liu Ling, explaining that both of them were injured. Liu Ling arrived swiftly, examined Jinghan, and laughed instead of scolding: the general was simply exhausted from days of travel, low on food and water, temporarily fainted from depleted qi and blood. A few days of rest and nourishment would restore him.
Qing’er immediately instructed Cui’er to prepare food. Liu Ling also had her make some sweet soup for Jinghan to replenish his energy quickly.
Liu Ling then examined Qing’er again. After taking a few doses of medicine, much of the chill in her body was gone. With a few days of rest, she would fully recover.
Lady Chen, hearing her son had collapsed, rushed over in panic. Seeing Qing’er awake and learning Jinghan was just fatigued, she finally relaxed, instructing Qing’er to take care of him before leaving.
Cui’er stayed to tend Qing’er’s scrapes from falling off the bed, applying ointment without fuss.
While helping her, Cui’er asked, “Young mistress, now that the young master has returned, why haven’t you told him the truth? How have the madam and aunt treated you these past days? Why hide it from him?”
Su Qing’er sighed. “Cui’er, my husband handles matters of great importance. I don’t wish to burden him with household trivialities.”
“But—” Cui’er began, but Qing’er stopped her, and the conversation ended there.
Though recovering, Qing’er stayed awake, guarding Jinghan, tucking him in, and praying for him. When Cui’er urged her to rest, she insisted the servant sleep first, refusing to close her own eyes.
Jinghan slept two full days. Dreamily, he sensed rain outside, cool and damp. Stirred, he opened his eyes to see Qing’er quietly crying, tears falling on his face.
Reaching to touch her, he whispered gently, “Wife, why are you crying again?”
Qing’er froze as if electrified, seeing he was awake. Her sobs intensified, clinging to him, letting all her pent-up sorrow pour out.
“Qing’er, my dear Qing’er, why are you crying again? I’m back, see?” Jinghan embraced her tightly, overflowing with longing from the days apart.
After calming herself in his arms, Qing’er rose slowly. Jinghan noticed the bruises on her face. Upon hearing they were from a fall, he immediately wanted to summon a physician.
Qing’er covered his mouth, assuring him the ointment had already been applied.
Holding her hand, Jinghan’s chest warm, he gazed into her eyes, words failing him as their hearts had already fully aligned.
One had traveled a thousand miles just to see home, the other stayed sleepless and attentive—both had given their truest hearts to each other.
Suddenly, Qing’er reached to inspect Jinghan’s body.
He paused, noticing the daylight through the window, and gently reminded her, “Wife, it’s daytime, and your body isn’t fully healed. I worry you won’t endure it.”
Qing’er blushed fiercely, pushing him. “Don’t imagine such things. I only want to see if you were hurt on this expedition.”
Jinghan chuckled, realizing the reason. He confidently undressed, saying, “Wife, look carefully.”
Qing’er examined each of the 118 minor wounds on his body and nodded with satisfaction, about to help him cover up.
Jinghan, however, held her hand and gently pressed her against him, relishing her startled reaction.
“Husband, someone’s outside!” Qing’er whispered like a frightened fawn.
Jinghan smirked, removing her clothes slowly. “Don’t worry, my wife. Without my order, no one dares enter.”
He kissed her gently, from lips to face, chest to body, releasing all the pent-up longing accumulated over days.
Qing’er’s soft frame bore his passion; having been apart, she longed for him as intensely. Their suppressed desire flared, merging heart and soul, spirit and body.
After days apart, their longing transformed into unreserved love. Inside the curtains, they were the world’s unmatched pair of lovers.
Freed from fatigue, Jinghan’s exhaustion vanished. His handsome face shone as he held his beloved, regretting that they had married late—had they married earlier, such blissful days would have begun long ago.
Su Qing’er rested on his firm chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, comforted and content.
He was back, and her world was bright again. She could not help but whine softly, “Husband, can you stay with me forever?”