The water was scalding hot.
It carried a thick, bitter scent of medicinal herbs.
The deep brown decoction in the wooden tub resembled a stagnant swamp. Amid the early spring chill of the Southern Frontier, not yet truly warm, faint wisps of steam rose from it, enveloping Xue Yunyi’s pale calves.
The female physician bowed her head and carefully lifted the young woman’s legs from the tub.
Her snow-white skin, soaked too long in the medicine, had wrinkled slightly, like tree bark cracked by winter’s bite.
A look of heartache flickered in the female physician’s eyes. She pressed Xue Yunyi’s leg tendons with the utmost gentleness and asked in a soft voice, “Princess… do you feel anything?”
Xue Yunyi shook her head.
Her legs remained utterly numb, no different from that first medicinal bath months ago.
Xue Yunyi lowered her gaze, letting her maid Mo Ying wipe the medicinal residue from her legs and smooth her skirts.
“Clear it away,” she instructed indifferently.
Two young eunuchs hurried in at once and carried the tub out.
“Please forgive this physician’s poor skills,” the female physician said. She wiped the sweat from her brow, stealing a glance at Xue Yunyi’s expression before continuing tactfully. “The poison afflicting Your Highness is exceedingly rare. It has seeped into the bones and marrow, blocking the meridians and leaving both legs paralyzed, unable to walk. This blood-activating bath is the best remedy this physician and my colleagues at the Imperial Hospital could devise. If I may overstep, Princess, for full recovery… I’m afraid it will take the one who tied the bell to untie it.”
No sooner had she spoken than the princess, seated calmly on the beauty couch, turned her gaze icy cold.
The female physician knew she had misspoke. She clamped her mouth shut, packed her medicine box, and retreated in haste.
Xue Yunyi’s eyes followed the woman’s retreating figure, lingering unwittingly on her swift, agile legs and the butterfly-like flutter of her skirts.
In just a few months, Xue Yunyi had nearly forgotten the sensation of walking.
It had been late winter, just after the new year, when snow blanketed the eaves of Phoenix Peace Palace.
The Empress lay chronically ill, her time running short. Judge Wu of the Imperial Hospital had offered a miraculous medicine, claiming it would cure her longstanding ailment. Yet as no one had tried it before, to safeguard the Empress’s health, another should test it first—one sharing her bloodline, a close kin, to check for incompatibility.
As the Southern Frontier Eldest Princess and the Empress’s sole daughter, Xue Yunyi drank that thick, bitter, black draught without hesitation. She never dreamed her rival, the Second Princess Xue Qingzhi, would dare tamper with it.
In a single night, sensation fled her legs, leaving them like rotten logs that could no longer stir.
A cool spring breeze swept the yard, stirring the yet-unbloomed hydrangeas. A white rabbit darted through the low grass somewhere, lively as an uncatchable gust.
Xue Yunyi slowly shifted her gaze, her lips twitching faintly.
The one who tied the bell must untie it?
If Xue Qingzhi had dared poison her, she intended total ruin for those legs. An antidote would come only at great cost—if at all.
“Any stirrings from Ninghua Palace lately?” Xue Yunyi leaned forward, idly smoothing a rumpled fold of skirt on her shoe.
Mo Ying thought a moment, then whispered, “Nothing of note—this servant only heard the Second Princess fetched a handsome young man from somewhere a few days back. Since then, she’s kept to her chambers. It’s been two months since she last stepped out of Ninghua Palace.”
“She leaves This Palace crippled like this, yet revels in leisure,” Xue Yunyi said, narrowing her eyes at the little sparrows flitting and chattering beyond the window. “Such fine weather—what a shame not to stroll. Mo Ying, push This Palace to Ninghua Palace.”
These days bound to the wheelchair had not left Xue Yunyi empty-handed. She had learned composure, facing all with indifference—no more daily collapses of despair and resentment as when her legs first failed.
Xue Qingzhi had sent messengers more than once, inviting her to Ninghua Palace for “a chat.” The intent was plain: trade what she craved for the antidote, and it might be hers.
But then, hatred burned too hot; even sighting Ninghua Palace from afar filled Xue Yunyi with loathing. She would never set foot there.
Calm now, she knew no legs meant everything else lost.
Whatever Xue Qingzhi desired, she could have.
Besides, since the Empress Mother’s passing, nothing in this frigid palace held her heart.
The wooden wheels turned, grinding over the paved stones, bearing her slowly toward Ninghua Palace.
Mo Ying pushed, brows knit tight. No illusion—the threshold seemed deliberately raised higher than before. She halted, directing the attendant eunuchs to lay the prepared plank across it. No need to lift the chair; it would ease the ride for its occupant.
Xue Yunyi reclined against the backrest, idly taking in the scenery as Mo Ying nudged her onward with care.
In mere months, Ninghua Palace’s paths had become winding pebble trails, dotted with carved railings and pillars at bends. The way from gate to Xue Qingzhi’s bedchamber was short, yet Mo Ying stumbled along it despite her caution. Xue Yunyi frowned once from the jolts.
Gritting her teeth, Mo Ying spat bitterly, “The Second Princess did this on purpose to torment Your Highness…”
Xue Yunyi’s face stayed serene. “No matter.”
At the yard’s stir, Qingdai—Xue Qingzhi’s chief palace maid—emerged with a smile, curtsying to Xue Yunyi. “What brings the Eldest Princess here today? Such a rare visit. This servant will announce you at once.”
Xue Yunyi ignored the barbed tone, murmuring a lazy “Mm.”
Startled by this uncharacteristic poise, Qingdai gave her several lingering looks before ascending the steps to the inner hall.
The doors creaked open, spilling faint, unusual sounds.
Xue Yunyi’s brow creased faintly.
Xue Qingzhi’s taste for handsome youths was palace gossip. The Emperor indulged her, turning blind eyes. These noises… likely her with a current favorite.
Xue Yunyi had no wish to intrude now and moved to order Mo Ying’s retreat when Qingdai reappeared, eyeing her leisurely. “The Second Princess bids Your Highness enter.”
The hall’s clamor sharpened.
Iron chains rattled against bedposts with a clanking shudder, sharp slaps cracked amid the young man’s stifled whimpers, trembling from the half-open window.
Xue Yunyi eyed the gapped pane. “I’ve come at an inopportune time.”
Qingdai chuckled. “Nonsense, Your Highness. You and the Second Princess are sisters—no need to shy from this. Wind’s fierce outside; come in before she grows impatient.”
She stepped aside on the stone steps, offering no aid.
Three tiers—not steep, not shallow. Mo Ying’s plank sufficed; the eunuchs managed, wheeling Xue Yunyi smoothly inside.
The sounds neared.
The wheelchair rolled to a halt at the inner threshold.
“Why cry? This Princess has shown you mercy enough. Behave, or anger me no more,” Xue Qingzhi’s impatient voice echoed through the vast bedchamber.
A whip cracked on flesh. Xue Yunyi heard the youth’s low, choked sobs—he seemed mortally afraid, swallowing pitiful cries.
Xue Yunyi frowned, baffled why Xue Qingzhi called her in now.
To mock her useless legs, denied such wanton pleasure?
Suppressing her revulsion, Xue Yunyi dropped her eyes as Mo Ying laid the plank anew, pushing ahead.
Wild Pear Incense smoldered in the ring-handled silver censer.
Its fragrance swirled through the green gauze bed curtains, dusting the youth’s pale waist.
Xue Yunyi looked up to see him, amid the rumpled drapes: kneeling prone on the couch, his overly slender waist quivering piteously.
Her hand tightened unwittingly on the armrest. Distracted, she crossed the threshold; Mo Ying overpushed. The wheel dropped with a dull thud, jolting.
The youth froze, as if thunderstruck. He looked up in terror, his jade-fragment eyes—shimmering with dread and panic—meeting Xue Yunyi’s cool gaze.
She started faintly.
Exquisite eyes, now drowned in fear. Unprepared for intruders, he bit his lip in humiliated despair. Then Xue Qingzhi kicked him impatiently; he tumbled like a rag from the bed, crashing hard to the floor.
Xue Yunyi raised a hand on instinct, halting Mo Ying—the wheel spared his fingers.
She peered down. He curled tight, clad only in gossamer gauze, as if to display the whip welts crisscrossing his frame. Blood beading his lean back bled pink into the fabric, like mute plum blossoms blanketing him.
Xue Yunyi watched with furrowed brows. Hadn’t Xue Qingzhi always doted on the servants in her palace? Why was she being so cruel to this young man?
“Taught you so many times, and you still can’t learn to serve properly. What a useless wretch.”
Xue Qingzhi had already dressed. As she drew back the bed curtains, she casually stepped on the young man’s face.
“Didn’t you see the Eldest Princess has arrived? Get up and pay your respects to the Eldest Princess.”