The night rain fell without end, scattered and sparse.
Palace lanterns swayed beneath the eaves, while deep puddles gathered on the stone steps, shimmering with a dim yellow glow.
Xue Yunyi hurried across them, the hem of her plain white skirt splashing with muddy rainwater, though she took no notice. Her face was cold and grim as she carried the youth in her arms—barely clinging to life—into the bedchamber.
She laid Wu Lang on the canopy bed and covered his thin, emaciated frame with clean bedding. Bloodstains soon spread across it, mingling with the cold, damp rainwater and quickly soiling the expensive mattress.
“Go summon Judge Wu.”
“Yes.” Mo Ying responded in a panic, making for the door before turning back anxiously. “Your Highness, your legs…”
In her preoccupation with Wu Lang, Xue Yunyi hadn’t noticed anything amiss. But Mo Ying’s reminder made her realize how badly her legs ached. She gripped the edge of the bed on instinct, and Mo Ying quickly wheeled over the wheelchair, helping her sit down with care.
The water clock had just ticked past eight o’clock. It had been exactly two hours since she left Azure Cypress Palace.
Xue Yunyi clenched the armrests, trying to stand once more, but her legs had reverted to their old, numb lifelessness. They could no longer support her firmly the way they had moments before.
She lowered her long lashes, concealing the desolation in her eyes. “This Palace is fine. Go.”
Mo Ying had no choice but to obey. She dashed through the rain all the way to the Imperial Hospital, intercepting Judge Wu just as he was about to end his shift and pleading with him to hurry to Azure Cypress Palace.
Seeing how frantic Mo Ying was, Judge Wu assumed Xue Yunyi had fallen ill. His heart was already gripped with dread by the time he arrived at the bedchamber, medicine box in hand—only to discover that Your Highness had summoned him to treat the half-dead little slave lying on the bed.
Judge Wu let out a breath of relief and tamped down his shock. He stepped forward and carefully examined Wu Lang’s injuries.
He had only checked halfway when a flicker of pity entered his eyes. He couldn’t imagine who had tortured the youth into such a state; the methods were far too cruel.
“How is he?” Xue Yunyi asked.
Judge Wu withdrew his hands and reported honestly. “Your Highness, his wounds are too severe. He’ll need to stay in bed and recuperate for some time. The whip lashes on his waist and abdomen are particularly bad, and his knee and leg bones appear to be fractured. I’ll prescribe medicine for the external injuries, but whether he makes a full recovery will depend on his own luck.”
Xue Yunyi drew a deep breath. “Thank you for your trouble, Judge Wu.”
She instructed the palace maids to see him out properly, then summoned Mo Ying and ordered her to prepare the empty side chamber to the east of the bedchamber for Wu Lang to stay in.
Mo Ying hesitated for a moment before asking, “Your Highness, do you plan to… keep him?”
Xue Yunyi fell silent for a beat.
Rescuing Wu Lang had been a spur-of-the-moment impulse, as well as a matter of basic reason—she couldn’t simply stand by and watch him die there. But she hadn’t given any thought to keeping him at her side.
She wasn’t Xue Qingzhi, who took pleasure in keeping beautiful young men as pets. Xue Yunyi had focused single-mindedly on her studies since childhood and had never entertained such romantic dalliances. Plenty of men had offered themselves to her bed in the past, willing to serve her, but she had brushed them all off with flimsy excuses.
But where could Wu Lang go?
She certainly couldn’t send him back to the Wu Family.
They fawned over Xue Qingzhi so eagerly—they might very well hand him right back over to Ninghua Palace for her to torment at her leisure.
Gazing at the unconscious youth on the bed, Xue Yunyi pondered for a long while before murmuring softly, “Let This Palace think it over.”
“Yes.” Mo Ying could tell her mistress was in low spirits and didn’t press the issue. She bowed and withdrew.
That side chamber had originally been for the few palace maids who attended Xue Yunyi personally, but since she disliked having too many servants around, she had relocated them elsewhere, leaving only Mo Ying by her side.
The room wasn’t large, but it was fully furnished. Mo Ying enlisted two young eunuchs, and they swiftly cleaned the place up. After reporting back to Xue Yunyi, they carried Wu Lang inside.
Xue Yunyi assigned two new palace maids to him—one named Liu Yin, the other Chun Yu. Both seemed dutiful and proper.
“Keep a close eye on him. If he wakes, come inform This Palace at once,” Xue Yunyi instructed.
Liu Yin and Chun Yu promised they would.
With everything arranged, the hall finally fell quiet.
The small window stood half-open, and the patter of rain filtered through the branches, mingling with the chill breeze in an endless murmur.
Only then did Xue Yunyi turn her gaze to her own legs.
It was impossible not to feel a sense of loss.
Just moments ago, she had been able to walk freely and without restraint. Now she was confined to the wheelchair once more—perhaps that was precisely what Xue Qingzhi had intended. To dangle a fleeting taste of hope before her, only to snuff it out with ruthless cruelty. That way, she could savor the pleasure of her suffering.
Xue Yunyi pressed her lips together and picked up a book from the desk, flipping it open to read in an effort to quell the heaviness in her heart.
The book had been a birthday gift from Empress Jiang the year before. Xue Yunyi kept it by her pillow every night, as if the empress were still there beside her.
The thought of Empress Jiang gave her hand pause mid-page. She had kept her disability a secret from her, back when the empress was already bedridden and gravely ill—she hadn’t wanted to deliver such a blow. Instead, Xue Yunyi had lied, claiming she’d injured her legs in a riding accident and that they would heal with time.
That sudden plunge into despair, that utter helplessness over her own body—she had endured it all alone.
In this moment, clutching the pale pages in her hand and listening to the rain rattling against the window, she suddenly longed to throw herself into Empress Jiang’s arms and weep her heart out. But in the end, the road ahead—no matter how difficult or treacherous—would have to be walked by her alone.
Mo Ying came in with a fresh set of bedding and changed out the bloodstained sheets on the canopy bed. Catching sight of the dried bloodstains out of the corner of her eye, Xue Yunyi couldn’t help recalling the sight of Wu Lang lying limp in her arms, his eyes tightly shut.
She found herself thinking that if she were in Wu Lang’s place, she might have sought death long ago—just to escape such inhuman torment. Even Judge Wu had been moved to pity. Wounds of that severity were more than most of the tough-skinned prisoners in the Heavenly Prison could bear; they would have bitten off their own tongues midway through for a quick end.
Yet Wu Lang had endured.
The youth’s resilience took Xue Yunyi by surprise.
For the first time in all these days, she felt ashamed of the self-pitying thoughts that had crossed her mind in the past. Wu Lang’s suffering dwarfed her own by a thousandfold, and still he fought to live on. What excuse did she have to drift through her days in a haze?
“Your Highness, it’s getting late. You should rest,” Mo Ying reminded her.
Xue Yunyi closed the book and glanced at the sky outside the window. In a mild voice, she said, “Light two more lamps.”
She had already drafted most of the memorial on the Lang Province drought, but there were still many details that needed careful review and consideration.
She had no time to slack off.
The next day, the rain continued to fall.
It was a gentle spring shower, soaking the wood until it gave off a damp, fragrant scent that mingled with the aroma of magnolia blossoms, drifting lightly on the breeze.
Clean. Gentle. Nothing like the rancid stench of horse dung and slop in that dilapidated stable.
Wu Lang slowly opened his eyes. All around him was pitch darkness. The familiar blackness filled him with fear, and he clenched his fists tightly. He propped himself up carefully against the bedframe, kneeling as he groped his way to the corner and curled up there, hugging his knees.
Where was this place?
It didn’t seem to be the dark punishment chamber. Nor was it the stable where he slept.
His bones ached as if they might shatter at any moment, and his cheek was swollen high. His mind was foggy; he only vaguely remembered how Xue Qingzhi had utterly broken him, to the point where he couldn’t even clench around the Jade Phallus anymore. He had begged her piteously to spare his life, promising he would heal and still be of use to her. But she had kicked him off the bed in disgust and ordered the servants to drag him away.
He had lain there on the palace path outside Ninghua Palace, covered in blood, as the cold rain fell on his face and froze his lips purple.
He was so tired, in so much pain. He had no strength left anywhere in his body. Sinking into a stupor, he had simply closed his eyes and let his body heat ebb away bit by bit.
When he woke, he found himself shut away in this unfamiliar room.
Wu Lang pressed his lips together and quietly touched the bedding beneath him. It was soft and warm, like freshly steamed cotton. Xue Qingzhi would never have allowed him to sleep on something so fine.
He grew uneasy, wondering if she had devised some new, twisted way to torment him. Why else would she have bothered bringing him back here?
At that moment, the door to the room creaked open.
Wu Lang shrank back into the corner on instinct.
It was late in the evening, the sky dark as ink with only a few stars and a pale moon visible.
Liu Yin held a lantern in one hand and a bowl of tea in the other as she carefully ascended the stone steps. Glancing up, she saw that the youth on the bed was awake. Half his face was buried behind his knees, revealing only a pair of beautiful dark eyes that watched her warily.
“Oh, you’re finally awake!” Liu Yin exclaimed, her eyes curving into a smile. “You’ve been out cold for an entire day. Your Highness was so worried—she was just about to send for the Imperial Physician again to check on you.”
Your Highness?
Wu Lang blinked, a flicker of bewilderment in his eyes.
While he was still dazed, Liu Yin stepped into the room. She set the tea bowl on the table and chattered on. “I need to go tell Your Highness the good news right away.”
Wu Lang hesitated for a breath before asking softly, “Where am I?”
Only when he spoke did he realize how hoarse his throat was; even talking hurt.
Liu Yin smiled. “This is Azure Cypress Palace. The Eldest Princess saved you.”
Wu Lang’s lashes trembled, and his heart skipped a beat. The Eldest Princess had saved him? No wonder the room was so clean and comfortable. He was no longer in Ninghua Palace.
“C-Can I see Your Highness?” he rasped. “I want to thank her for saving my life.”
Liu Yin eyed the wounds covering his body, thinking to herself that with injuries like these, he could hardly have the strength to get out of bed. But seeing the intense longing in Wu Lang’s eyes, she nodded in agreement. “Wait here a moment. Let me go inform Your Highness.”
The door to the room remained open. In the distance, several palace lanterns glowed scattered and bright, illuminating the courtyard filled with fragrant, lush white magnolias—a scene utterly different from the one in Ninghua Palace.
That faint light briefly dispelled Wu Lang’s fear of the darkness. He struggled inwardly for a moment before cautiously shifting his body to try getting out of bed. But as soon as his foot touched the ground, an unbearable sharp pain stabbed through his knee. He collapsed uncontrollably to his knees and grunted in pain.
Liu Yin returned just then.
“Come with me. Your Highness has agreed to see you.”
Xue Yunyi had spent two consecutive nights reading late into the hours of darkness.
Mo Ying was truly worried that she would wear herself out, so she took it upon herself to order some late-night snacks from the small kitchen.
Xue Yunyi had no appetite at first and was about to tell the servants to clear everything away. But upon hearing Liu Yin’s report, she changed her mind and kept a serving of goji berry pigeon soup.
Wu Lang had slept through the entire day, so he must be hungry. Judge Wu had warned that his body was far too thin, likely from going so long with an empty stomach. He shouldn’t eat too much greasy or heavy food all at once—soup would be best.