Xue Yunyi stared at the scene before her in disbelief, a profound sense of helplessness washing over her. She couldn’t understand how a perfectly fine person could have been reduced to this. Her good intentions, her concern—in Wu Lang’s mind, they had all twisted into reprimands and abuse.
Unable to bear watching any longer, she wearily grasped the youth’s slender wrist, halting his near self-mutilation.
Wu Lang gazed at her anxiously.
Xue Yunyi released his hand and forced herself to ignore that damp, pleading look. She turned her attention to his neck. The rough profound iron had chafed his once-fair skin raw and swollen in places, nearly peeling it away in layers, with sores repeatedly festering and scabbing over. She sighed silently and gave an order. “Liu Yin, take him back to rest first. Have Zhao Xi come tomorrow morning to apply medicine.”
Zhao Xi was the most quick-witted little eunuch in her palace. Since Wu Lang was a man, many intimate tasks were inconvenient for Liu Yin and Chun Yu to handle, so she had transferred Zhao Xi over as well.
Wu Lang’s eyes darkened. He felt that Xue Yunyi had not yet calmed her anger, but he didn’t dare say more. He could only kowtow properly to her before following Liu Yin out.
Xue Yunyi leaned back in her wheelchair, her head throbbing fiercely. For the first time in her life, she felt utterly at a loss. She massaged her aching temples and feebly called for Mo Ying. “Go fetch Meng Jiang.”
Ever since she had fallen ill with her leg ailment, Meng Jiang had been the one attentively tending to her health. After all, they were both women; sometimes, Xue Yunyi confided in Meng Jiang about things no one else could hear.
At this point, she was truly out of ideas and could only clutch at straws. She recounted everything about Wu Lang to Meng Jiang in full detail, hoping the woman could offer some advice.
Meng Jiang’s expression grew troubled upon hearing it. She pondered for a long while before cautiously speaking. “Your Highness need not worry too much. In this servant’s humble opinion, this Young Master Wu… must have endured too much inhuman abuse, so he instinctively interprets others’ actions as malice. Your Highness might try treating him in the way he’s familiar with. In time, he may improve.”
The way he was familiar with?
But asking her to treat Wu Lang like Xue Qingzhi did—no matter what, she could never do it.
Xue Yunyi felt her headache intensify.
“Never mind. Let This Palace think on it some more.”
“Yes. Then this servant will take her leave. Your Highness, please rest early.” Meng Jiang bowed and withdrew.
Mo Ying helped Xue Yunyi lie down and added more calming incense to the censer.
Xue Yunyi lay with her eyes open, staring at the pitch-black bed curtains, unable to fall asleep. Only when the sky began to lighten did she finally succumb to exhaustion and drift off in a haze.
Xue Qingzhi flew into a towering rage first thing in the morning. She, who usually slept soundly, had suffered a sleepless night for the first time.
The palace maids stood with heads bowed, not daring to breathe, while only Ah Xiao had the courage to approach with a smile. He kneaded her shoulders while murmuring soothing words.
“Why bother getting upset with these slaves, Your Highness? It would only spoil your own good mood. You didn’t sleep well last night. After breakfast, Ah Xiao will keep you company for a nap.”
Xue Qingzhi glanced at the breakfast sent from the small kitchen and felt no appetite at all. She irritably waved it away. “Take it down and feed it to the dogs.”
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Ever since she had ordered Qingdai to throw Wu Lang out that day, a stifled anger had been building in her chest, leaving her deeply irritated.
He was just a pretty plaything for amusement, after all.
Without Wu Lang, plenty of others were eager to serve her—each more diligent, more smiling, more eager to please her than he had been.
Since he had dared to refuse her back then, he deserved his current fate.
With these thoughts, Xue Qingzhi finally felt a bit better. She summoned Jie An and ordered him to select some entertaining storybooks to read aloud to her. She also called in two slender young men, had them don snow-colored gauze robes, and made them kneel beside her to massage her legs.
Ah Xiao eyed that snow gauze with a hint of discomfort.
Jie An’s voice was as pleasant as ever, vividly narrating a tale of a scholar and his lady. Even the two young men listened raptly, but Xue Qingzhi grew listless after less than a quarter-hour and waved him off with little interest.
“Go find Qingdai for your reward. You don’t need to serve today.”
Ah Xiao struggled inwardly for a moment before he couldn’t hold back. “Your Highness, why dwell on that blind wretch of a Base Slave? How am I any less than him? If Your Highness tires of Ah Xiao, just find some fresh faces to add in. Seeing you like this… it really hurts Ah Xiao’s heart.”
Xue Qingzhi’s face darkened. “When did This Palace ever think of him? As if that filthy thing deserves This Palace’s attention?”
Hearing this, Ah Xiao’s brows finally relaxed. He quickly smiled obsequiously. “As long as Your Highness isn’t thinking of him, it’s fine. It was Ah Xiao who spoke out of turn.”
Xue Qingzhi snorted coldly and idly glanced at the two diligent youths at her feet. Both had striking looks, fair skin, and charming tiger’s teeth that flashed when they smiled—quite endearing.
Yet compared to Wu Lang’s aloof, otherworldly face, they still fell short.
Xue Qingzhi mulled it over. Wu Lang had served her for quite some time, after all. If he truly repented and stopped clinging to her lofty imperial sister, she supposed she could reluctantly forgive him. Besides, after being left out in the cold for two days, he must have learned his lesson thoroughly by now.
With this in mind, the gloom in Xue Qingzhi’s heart vanished. She lazily sat up and summoned Qingdai. “This Palace is in a good mood today. Go bring Wu Lang back. Have him clean himself up and come thank This Palace for her grace.”
She imagined Wu Lang, wounded as he was, probably too weak to move—perhaps still kneeling pitiably at Ninghua Palace’s gates, weeping and begging her forgiveness. She had long ago ordered the guards at the entrance not to let him in no matter how he pleaded. For her to mercifully allow his return now, Wu Lang ought to be eternally grateful—perhaps even more obedient than before.
Qingdai, however, looked deeply troubled. She hemmed and hawed for a while before carefully reporting, “Your Highness, Wu Lang… he was taken back to Azure Cypress Palace by the Eldest Princess long ago.”
“What did you say?” Xue Qingzhi’s face abruptly changed, and she raged, “He’s This Palace’s person! How dare she take him without so much as informing This Palace?”
Qingdai steeled herself and reminded her, “But… didn’t Your Highness say you didn’t want him anymore…”
It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. Xue Qingzhi’s lips trembled, and for a long while, she couldn’t utter a single word. Suddenly, she found the whole thing hilariously absurd, letting out a mocking sneer. “Yes, This Palace doesn’t want him anymore. Since Imperial Sister wants This Palace’s discarded trash, This Palace will just hand him over!”
She knew exactly what she had done to Wu Lang’s body. What could Xue Yunyi possibly do with him? She could barely take care of herself—did she really have the energy left to look after a useless piece of garbage?
Perfect. Just perfect.
From now on, she wouldn’t have to look at that infuriating face of his anymore. There were plenty of young, obedient pretty boys waiting for her favor.
Xue Qingzhi thought it, and so she acted on it. She immediately ordered Qingdai to bring the person the Ye Clan had sent yesterday into her bedchamber.
The inexperienced young boy timidly saluted her. “This slave is named Ye Zhen. I beg the Princess for your mercy.”
Xue Qingzhi lifted his chin and, under Ah Xiao’s jealous gaze, gently caressed his face. “This name isn’t pleasing to the ear,” she said casually. “From now on, you’ll be called Ye Lang.”
Xue Yunyi rose just after dawn. She had slept poorly, so she got up early and copied a few pages of scriptures at her desk to calm her mind.
Her thoughts lingered on Wu Lang, so for breakfast, she only had some simple plain porridge and light vegetable dishes. Afterward, she instructed Mo Ying to wheel her to his room.
The door stood open. From a distance, Xue Yunyi saw Zhao Xi standing beside the bed, seemingly applying medicine to Wu Lang. The pain must have been intense, for the boy let out muffled grunts now and then. Zhao Xi kept comforting him. “Just bear with it a little longer. It’ll be fine soon. It’ll be fine.”
“Your Highness, peace be upon you.”
Liu Yin and Chun Yu were guarding the doorway. They turned and saluted Xue Yunyi. Hearing the voice, Zhao Xi hurriedly stopped what he was doing.
Xue Yunyi nodded, her gaze falling on the boy huddled on the bed with his knees drawn up. Seeing her enter, Wu Lang instinctively started to slide off the bed, but she frowned slightly and stopped him. “Don’t move. Let him finish applying the medicine properly.”
Wu Lang froze for a moment, then obediently nodded.
His injuries were far too severe. The medicine stung fiercely when it touched the wounds, and every twitch of his body scattered the powder. It took Zhao Xi nearly half an hour to treat the gashes on his back. But soon Zhao Xi noticed something astonishing—perhaps because of Xue Yunyi’s command not to move, the boy really stayed still. Even when Zhao Xi accidentally prodded one of those hideous wounds, Wu Lang merely bit his lip in silent endurance, his face drained of color, not making a sound.
Zhao Xi couldn’t help stealing several astonished glances at him.
In the meantime, Xue Yunyi had Liu Yin bring in the food she had prepared for Wu Lang: a bowl of plain white porridge and a plate of simple vegetables—the same dishes and portions as her own breakfast. She had consulted Judge Wu, who advised light foods for the first few days until his body began to recover, before introducing fish, meat, or other nourishing items.
The sight of the white porridge in Liu Yin’s hands triggered an instinctive urge to retch in Wu Lang. During his days in Ninghua Palace, that had been his only daily sustenance—a single bowl of flavorless slop. In time, the mere smell of it turned his stomach, yet he had been forced to swallow it down, one painful mouthful after another.
Seeing the revulsion in his eyes, Xue Yunyi assumed he simply had no appetite so early in the day. “Be good and eat it all,” she said warmly. “That way, your wounds will heal faster. The porridge might lack flavor, but nothing is better for settling the stomach.”
Wu Lang hurriedly replied, “Yes, this base slave understands.”
That Xue Yunyi had taken him in filled him with boundless gratitude—how could he possibly complain? Besides, in his moments of extreme hunger, he had eaten things a hundred times worse. As long as it filled his belly, he would eat anything.
Zhao Xi soon finished applying the medicine and helped Wu Lang dress.
“Eat first,” Xue Yunyi said. “Judge Wu will be here shortly to bandage the wounds on your legs.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the boy slipped swiftly from the bed. He knelt properly at her feet, head bowed low, and thanked her in a hoarse voice.
“This base slave thanks Your Highness for bestowing this food.”
Wu Lang recited the ritual with practiced ease, one drilled into him countless times. With every bowl of porridge Xue Qingzhi had given him before, he had been required to hold it in both hands, offer profuse thanks, and only then was permitted to eat.
Xue Yunyi felt another headache coming on. It was just a bowl of porridge, yet his actions made it seem like some immense act of charity. And he needed to stay in bed to rest—getting down like that must have reopened countless wounds, rendering all that medicine useless.
Xue Yunyi drew a deep breath, bent down to haul the boy up from her feet, and fixed him with a stern look that commanded him to sit back on the bed.
“You’re not to get off the bed on your own. It’ll tear open the wounds. Keep thrashing around like this, and how long do you think it’ll take to heal?”
The boy’s lovely dark eyes gazed up at her, a touch dazed.
Xue Yunyi felt helpless. Patient as she was, she truly had no idea what to do with Wu Lang.
Rubbing her throbbing brow, she suddenly recalled Meng Jiang’s words from the day before.
“Your Highness might try treating him in the way he’s accustomed to.”
The way he was accustomed to…?
Unbidden, an image rose in her mind: the boy kneeling before her, eyes downcast, proactively untying his belt in a bid to please her.
Xue Yunyi pursed her lips, her heartbeat inexplicably quickening. She cleared her throat and deliberately schooled her expression into sternness. “Behave yourself. Heal those wounds properly, and This Palace will allow you to stay.”
Wu Lang’s eyes blinked, growing moist.
She hardened her resolve and gritted out the rest.
“Allow you to stay… and serve This Palace.”