Three hours?
Xue Yunyi’s eyelids twitched. The tea she had just sipped suddenly went down the wrong way, making her clutch the edge of the bed and cough violently for a good while before she managed to catch her breath.
The stone steps outside the bedchamber were cold and hard. Kneeling there for three hours—what would become of his knees?
She had only just begun to recover, so why didn’t he know how to take better care of himself…
Xue Yunyi felt both angry and heartbroken.
“Let him in.”
Mo Ying had hurried off to fetch the medicine, leaving only hurried instructions for Wu Lang not to disturb Your Highness’s rest before letting him enter the bedchamber on his own.
Wu Lang lightened his steps as he entered the inner chamber. When he was still a dozen paces from the canopied bed, he obediently dropped to his knees and crawled forward to the bedside.
“This servant pays respects to Your Highness. May Your Highness be well.”
He pressed his forehead to the ground and caught the scent of medicinal herbs wafting through the air, mingled with the calming aroma of incense. It was like pine needles soaked by rain in some deep mountain forest.
It was the scent that often clung to the Eldest Princess.
In the next instant, the Eldest Princess’s voice came from above his head.
“Rise.”
“Yes.”
Only then did Wu Lang dare to lift his head. He carefully glanced toward the bed.
Xue Yunyi was reclining against soft pillows, cradling half a cup of hot tea and sipping it in small mouthfuls. She had been feverish off and on for over a day now. Her face was as pale as snow, with cold sweat dripping from her temples, and she looked utterly frail.
Wu Lang’s eyes darkened. Just yesterday, Your Highness had been perfectly fine. When she had left his side room, she had gently reminded him to close the windows tightly to avoid catching a chill in the rain. He had obeyed her instructions to the letter, sealing both small windows without leaving so much as a crack.
Yet she had fallen ill herself.
“Your Highness, are you… still feverish? Does your body ache? Is there phlegm in your throat? Do your bones feel sore?”
In his worry, Wu Lang found the courage to blurt out a string of questions.
It was rare to hear him speak so much. Xue Yunyi couldn’t help curving her lips in a smile and teased, “What, are you a physician now? Do you need to take This Palace’s pulse as well?”
Wu Lang hurried to say, “This servant spoke out of turn. Please punish this servant, Your Highness.”
He did know a little about pulse diagnosis, but the Eldest Princess was a body worth a thousand gold pieces. How could someone of his lowly status be worthy of touching her jade-like form or probing her pulse?
The youth lowered his head in fear, falling silent once more.
Xue Yunyi sighed helplessly. “This Palace was only joking with you. When did This Palace say anything about punishing you? This Palace is fine. A few days of rest and I’ll recover fully. But you haven’t healed completely yourself. What were you doing kneeling outside? If you wanted to see This Palace, you could have just told Mo Ying. It rained yesterday, and the ground is still damp and cold. If your knees get infected, the pain at night could be deadly.”
As she spoke, she couldn’t hold back a coughing fit. Clearly, she was suffering greatly herself, yet all her words were filled with concern for others.
Wu Lang’s nose stung. He didn’t dare defend himself and only murmured softly, “I’m sorry. This servant did wrong again.”
In truth, his knees had long since been ruined.
Just like that once-broken leg of his—they ached terribly at night, keeping him from sleep.
He had never much cared for his own body. After all, it was just a toy for pleasing his master. Why bother?
When Mo Ying had told him the Eldest Princess was ill, his heart had burned with anxiety. He hadn’t given a thought to his knees. As long as he could see her—even if it meant kneeling all day—he was willing.
Separated from her by a heavy, tightly shut palace door, he had lowered his eyes and knelt in quiet wait.
He thought that even if he couldn’t see the Eldest Princess, at least he could be a little closer to her. That way, his heart might find some small measure of peace.
Xue Yunyi coughed fiercely. Wu Lang grew anxious and watched her with trepidation.
It was a long while before Xue Yunyi finally managed to stop. Propping herself weakly against the bed, she slowly lay back down.
“Go back and rest. This Palace has Mo Ying and the imperial physicians to look after me. You’re not fully recovered yourself—don’t pass your illness on to me.”
Just those few words had left her drained of strength. Her throat felt like a boiling fire, scorching even her breaths.
Wu Lang hesitated, then mustered his courage to plead, “This servant… wants to stay and care for Your Highness. Please grant your permission.”
The youth’s dark eyes were wet and glistening, reflecting the lonely flicker of candlelight, just like a little dog desperately trying to win its master’s favor.
Xue Yunyi paused for a breath, then finally softened and made some concession. “Very well. Wait until Mo Ying returns, then go back.”
“Yes. This servant thanks Your Highness for your permission.”
Wu Lang answered softly, not daring to ask for more. Being allowed to stay by Your Highness’s side even for a short while was already an immense grace.
The bedchamber fell quiet. The youth knelt by the bed, his breathing light and shallow, blending with the faint night wind outside the window. It made for a soothing lullaby.
It comforted her heart as well.
Xue Yunyi was utterly exhausted and soon sank back into a deep sleep.
Only then did Wu Lang dare to raise his eyes and steal a glance at the Eldest Princess’s face.
Even in sleep, her brows were furrowed in discomfort. A few sweat-dampened strands of dark hair clung messily to her cheeks, making her complexion seem even paler. One slender, snow-white wrist had slipped out from under the brocade quilt, resting quietly on the edge of the bed.
Wu Lang’s gaze lingered on that stretch of flawless, creamy skin.
All he had to do was reach out, and he could take her pulse, diagnose her illness, and uncover her sorrows.
Mo Ying had said the Eldest Princess suffered from pent-up worries, compounded by getting caught in the rain and chill, leading to her fever and delirium.
But every time he saw the Eldest Princess, her face always bore that gentle, serene smile, without a trace of melancholy.
What was troubling the Eldest Princess so deeply?
Wu Lang pressed his lips tight.
Slowly, he reached out a hand but yanked it back just before his fingertips could brush that snowy wrist, as if jolted awake from a dream.
He couldn’t.
The Eldest Princess hadn’t permitted it… He couldn’t touch.
Footsteps hurried from behind—Mo Ying had returned with the warmed medicine.
“Your Highness is asleep?” Mo Ying gently set the medicine bowl on the small table by the bed. She glanced at the girl on the bed, whose brows were furrowed and eyes tightly shut, and asked softly.
Wu Lang nodded.
Mo Ying looked worried. “Your Highness has been sleeping all day without eating a thing. How can her body endure this? Stay here and watch over her for me. I’ll go to the small kitchen and have them prepare some night snacks.”
With a sigh, she left.
Wu Lang eyed the medicine bowl Mo Ying had brought. The decoction was thick and bitterly pungent. He leaned closer to sniff it and detected white xianzi among the ingredients. This herb had fierce properties and wasn’t typically added to ordinary formulas for wind-chill and fever. The imperial hospital must have included it because Your Highness’s fever was so severe, hoping for a quick effect. It was remarkably effective for clearing heat and stopping sweat, but its taste was unbearably bitter, almost impossible to swallow.
Wu Lang thought that when Mo Ying returned, he would have to trouble her to fetch some candied fruit.
Just then, the person on the bed stirred slightly. In the utter silence, Wu Lang clearly heard a low murmur.
He held his breath.
Perhaps caught in a nightmare, Xue Yunyi’s eyes remained closed, her brow tightly knit in unease. The hand resting outside the quilt clenched unconsciously.
Her lips moved, her breaths hot and dry.
She repeated a few thin, helpless phrases over and over.
“Mother…”
“I miss you so much…”
“Uncle clearly promised… he’d return to the capital after the new year…”
“He lied to us.”
Her voice was hoarse and raspy, sounding utterly aggrieved, tinged with a nasal whine. The corners of her eyes glistened—whether from sweat or tears, he couldn’t tell.
Wu Lang knelt rigidly by the bed. He had never seen the Eldest Princess so fragile. It felt as if a giant hand had seized his heart, twisting it in agony.
The “Mother” Your Highness spoke of must be Empress Jiang.
He had heard that Empress Jiang suffered from a chronic illness and had been recuperating in Phoenix Peace Palace. If Your Highness missed her, why not go visit?
Wu Lang fell silent, then suddenly remembered the plain white silk flower he had picked up and hidden under his pillow.
An unbelievable thought flashed through his mind.
Could it be that Empress Jiang had already…
A chill ran through him, a cold shiver racing up his spine.
But why would the Emperor conceal such news?
Xue Yunyi suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit.
Wu Lang snapped back to attention. He straightened up and moved forward, instinctively cupping his palm to catch whatever she might cough up.
Xue Yunyi dry-coughed for a good while. With her stomach empty, nothing came up. But the fit fully jolted her awake from sleep. Clutching her chest, she frowned toward the bedside and saw the youth holding out his palms, watching her anxiously.
“Where’s Mo Ying?” Xue Yunyi asked after catching her breath.
“Replying to Your Highness, Miss Mo Ying brought the medicine just now. Remembering that Your Highness hasn’t eaten, she went to the small kitchen to have night snacks prepared.”
Xue Yunyi’s gaze shifted to the medicine bowl on the small table nearby.
She had been ill for a day, delaying many important matters. She had only redrawn half of the water diversion map, and now, with her mind muddled by fever, all her clever ideas were nearly forgotten.
She needed to recover quickly.
“Bring This Palace the medicine.”
Wu Lang picked up the bowl and offered it to her. He paused for a breath, then hesitantly reminded her, “Your Highness, this medicine is very bitter. Shall I have someone fetch some candied fruit?”
“No need.”
It was just one bowl of medicine. How bitter could it be?
Thinking this, Xue Yunyi tilted her head back and took a solid gulp.
But the moment it touched her tongue—before she could even swallow—her face changed dramatically.
When the Empress Mother had been gravely ill, Xue Yunyi had pored over medical texts day and night, researching prescriptions and personally tasting many medicines. Later, when her own leg had become disabled, the Imperial Hospital had tried every method to treat it, sending countless remedies her way. Even when hope had seemed slim, she had dutifully drunk them all, one by one. Xue Yunyi had thought she was long accustomed to the bitterness of herbal decoctions, yet a medicine this bitter was a first for her.
That acrid taste flooded her throat and nostrils, seeping into her very lungs and making her stomach churn with the urge to retch once more.
She hurriedly set the medicine bowl down and swept her gaze around the room, but she found no vessel suitable for vomiting into. Even the teacup she had used moments before had been whisked away by Mo Ying—likely to refill it with fresh tea.
Xue Yunyi burned with anxiety. She simply could not force it down, yet she had always been fastidious about cleanliness and could never dream of spitting the dregs onto the floor. In her desperation, the pallor of her face gave way to an embarrassed flush.
“Your Highness.”
Sensing her plight, the youth kneeling at the bedside spoke up in a hoarse voice.
“If you cannot drink it… might you grant it to this slave?”
Xue Yunyi froze for a moment. The youth had already crawled forward on his knees, tilting his head obediently to gaze up at her. His thin lips parted slightly, awaiting—
Her gracious bestowal.