Deep into the night, the sleeping palace lay in utter silence.
Only after confirming that no one else was around did Wu Lang summon the resolve to endure his shame and crawl forward on his knees.
Back when he had been in Ninghua Palace, he had been ordered to wear such clothing all day long while walking before Xue Qingzhi. At first, he had resisted with all his might, but after enduring too many lashes from the whip, he had learned to numbly submit.
Yet now, he had put on this garment of his own accord—this Cold Moon Gauze so thin it was practically nonexistent, leaving his body almost entirely exposed—all to please his goddess.
For some reason, the mere thought of appearing before the Eldest Princess in such a lowly, lascivious state brought a sudden flush of heat to the youth’s face.
He finally crawled close, only to find no sign of Xue Yunyi on the curtained bed.
He halted instinctively, cautiously scanning his surroundings. Then, all at once, he caught a faint floral fragrance wafting from behind the pearl-threaded silk screen.
It was the scent of Fairy Dream Incense.
Following the aroma, Wu Lang crept forward on his knees as quietly as he could. There, behind the long red sandalwood table, he saw Xue Yunyi using a scented spoon to scoop up the last remnants of incense from the sugar box and feed them into the painted copper censer.
He froze for a moment, forgetting all propriety in his haste to call out, “Your Highness, that incense got wet from me. It can’t be used.”
Xue Yunyi had been so absorbed in her task that she hadn’t noticed the youth’s silent approach, stealthy as a cat. She paused for a breath before steadying her wrist. Continuing, she said warmly, “This Palace had Mo Ying light a charcoal fire and dry it once more. The fragrance is a bit fainter now, but it’s still usable.”
With that, she turned sideways to set the censer on a nearby pearwood stand, sighing offhandedly, “It’s a pity there’s so little left. It’ll burn out in less than a quarter-hour.”
Wu Lang blinked in surprise, then murmured quickly, “Then… then this slave will make some more for Your Highness another day, all right?”
Of course, finding a large quantity of Fairy Dream suitable for incense-making in the palace wouldn’t be easy.
That patch of Fairy Dream growing by the base of the wall had been something he had spotted purely by chance, back when he spent his days cooped up in his room, staring blankly out the window in boredom.
The side room had long been abandoned, and the empty wasteland behind it was neglected, so the palace maids had never bothered to tend it. That was the only reason it had survived. Finding more would be no simple task.
But if Your Highness liked it… he would find a way.
“Good,” Xue Yunyi agreed with a smile.
When she finally turned her face toward him and her gaze fell on the youth kneeling before the table, she couldn’t help but pause, momentarily stunned.
He had come wearing only a single layer of thin gauze.
This gauze was even more sheer and transparent than the few snowy garments she had seen him wear back in Ninghua Palace.
Those, at least, could be called clothes.
This one was little more than a scrap of fabric, draping over him like a light mist. It made the lingering water droplets on his skin gleam like powdered pearls, sparkling with an enticing luster.
A chill evening breeze slipped through the window lattice into the hall. He seemed to feel the cold, his shoulders trembling faintly, his breathing visible in the rise and fall of his abdomen. His hands rested awkwardly on his knees.
A clumsy attempt at seduction.
Xue Yunyi’s eyes darkened, but she neither ordered him to leave nor scolded him.
Under her gaze, the youth’s cheeks burned. Only then did he remember his purpose. He hastily lowered his eyes and fumbled to pull together the two “lapels” at his front in a futile attempt to cover himself.
“This slave’s body is all better now,” he said, his throat bobbing unnaturally as he murmured, “Will you use it? This slave washed very clean…”
Seeing how tense he was, Xue Yunyi found herself at a loss for words. Of course she remembered the promise she had made when she first brought Wu Lang back to Azure Cypress Palace—that as long as he obediently healed his wounds, she would allow him to stay and serve her.
But that had only been a casual excuse to put his mind at ease while he recovered.
How was she supposed to explain it to him?
Xue Yunyi felt a headache coming on.
The air hung silent, save for the flicker of candle flames and the crisp crackle of burning wicks.
She watched as Wu Lang’s head drooped lower and lower. Thinking himself rejected, he clenched his fingers in humiliation and rasped an apology. “I’m sorry. This slave overstepped. This slave’s status is too lowly to serve Your Highness… From now on, this slave will remember his place and never offend Your Highness again.”
With that, he kowtowed heavily toward Xue Yunyi. “Please forgive this slave.”
The floor was cold and hard. A bruise soon bloomed purple on the youth’s forehead.
Xue Yunyi stared in shock for an instant before sitting up straight and sharply commanding, “Stop.”
The youth obediently froze, then slowly lifted his face.
Xue Yunyi frowned at the mark on his forehead. “This Palace isn’t blaming you. Why rush to beg forgiveness like that?”
Meeting those black eyes, damp and pleading like a little dog’s, she finally softened. Her tone gentled as she said, “Come here.”
“Yes.”
The youth responded and obediently crawled to her side, awaiting her reprimand.
“The medicinal toxins in your body haven’t been fully purged. Even after half a month of medicated baths, you still need time to rest and recover. So This Palace… can’t touch you right now.”
Xue Yunyi tried to phrase it as delicately as possible, fearing any harsh word might send his thoughts spiraling.
She had no aversion to intimacy with Wu Lang. She simply wanted that if it happened, his desire and anticipation should come from his heart, not from the lingering effects of the drug.
She didn’t want to force him into anything he wasn’t willing to do.
At her words, the youth’s eyes dimmed, a flicker of hurt crossing his face.
Xue Yunyi sighed and reached for a sugar box she had prepared earlier from the corner of the table. It was painted with gold and far more exquisite—and larger—than the one he had broken that day. It brimmed with freshly boiled plum candies. She counted them with her fingertips, considered for a moment, then pushed aside the extras, leaving exactly thirty.
“There are thirty candies in this box—one per day, no more. Too many at once will sour your teeth.” Her voice was gentle. “Once these are gone, This Palace will allow you to enter the hall and serve.”
She had to give him some hope, at least—
Otherwise, she had no doubt this pitiful youth would blame himself entirely, deciding he was too filthy or worthless for her to touch.
At her words, the youth brightened with joy. He hurriedly accepted the sugar box and clutched it preciously to his chest.
“This slave thanks… thanks Master for the reward.”
Xue Yunyi patiently corrected him. “Call me Your Highness.”
The youth’s eyes dimmed again. His thin lips pressed tight, his dark lashes drooping like those of a wilted little dog.
Xue Yunyi relented with a helpless smile. “You can call me that in private. But in front of others, mind your manners.”
“Yes.” The youth was so thrilled he seemed about to wag his tail, his black eyes shining as he whispered, “Master treats this slave so well.”
Xue Yunyi’s lips curved. Her gaze drifted to the thin gauze on his body. “Are you cold?”
Wu Lang shook his head. “Not cold.”
In truth… he was a little cold.
But he didn’t want the Eldest Princess to think him delicate.
“Then go close the window,” Xue Yunyi said. “And bring This Palace that copy of the Compendium of Materia Medica from the small table.”
“Yes.”
At her command, Wu Lang finally stood. He carefully secured the small window before fetching the book she wanted.
In passing, he glimpsed a thin sheet of paper with writing on it—seemingly a medicinal formula—tucked beneath a thick stack of medical texts.
Golden Luo Leaf, Rat Floss Grass… all ingredients for a rare poison that blocked the meridians and sapped the body’s strength.
Wu Lang recognized it at a glance as one of Madam Wu’s recipes. When she was young, Madam Wu had wandered the jianghu selling poisons to amass her fortune. After marrying Wu Zhuo, she had washed her hands of that life and taken up medicine. Yet her study still held many strange and exotic poison formulas. Wu Lang had seen them so often that he knew her methods well. That Golden Luo Leaf alone was exceedingly rare—something she cultivated secretly in the back courtyard’s Secret Garden, unavailable anywhere on the market.
But why would such a poison formula be here in the Eldest Princess’s sleeping palace?
Wu Lang suddenly thought of the princess’s crippled legs.
An unbelievable notion flashed through his mind. He bit his lip, summoned his courage, picked up the paper, and returned to Xue Yunyi.
“Master, your legs… is it because of this?”
His voice was hoarse and low as he watched her expression closely. He knew this was none of a lowly slave’s business, and he feared angering the Eldest Princess.
Fortunately, Xue Yunyi didn’t blame him. She merely hummed faintly in acknowledgment.
“Xue Qingzhi got this formula from your brother, then schemed against This Palace with it.”
Fearing he might take it to heart, Xue Yunyi paused before adding softly, “What your brother did has nothing to do with you. You’re not like him, Ah Lang… You’re very good.”
Wu Lang’s dark lashes trembled, his eyes growing hot and damp again. He clutched the thin paper, staring at the words for a long time before mustering the courage to plead softly, “This slave wants to try detoxifying you. Please grant me permission, Master.”
Xue Yunyi looked surprised. “You have a way?”
She knew he had some knowledge of pharmacology, but this poison had stumped even the Imperial Hospital. Could he really manage it?
“This slave wouldn’t dare boast. I only beg Master to give this slave a chance to try my best.”
The youth gazed at her with burning intensity. Xue Yunyi’s heart softened, and she couldn’t bear to deny his earnest wish. She nodded in agreement.
“Very well.”
She didn’t truly expect Wu Lang to heal her legs. She simply thought giving him something to do would be better than letting him stew in his thoughts all day.
With that in mind, she pointed to the nearby bookshelf and said warmly, “This Palace has plenty of medical texts here. Feel free to borrow any you like. There’s also a compartment over there stocked with herbs—see if anything proves useful. If you’re missing something, have Mo Ying fetch it. This Palace grants you free access to the sleeping palace. In the future, when This Palace isn’t here, you may come and read as you please.”
Wu Lang kowtowed gratefully in thanks. “This slave thanks Mistress for her grace.”
“Alright, get up.” Xue Yunyi smiled gently. “These books were the ones This Palace fetched from the Hidden Scripture Pavilion back when the Empress Mother was ill. They’re just gathering dust otherwise. The more people who read them, the greater their use.”
Now that Empress Jiang was gone, she had lost all interest in poring over those obscure and impenetrable medical texts.
She could read through thousands of pages of treatises on statecraft and history without tiring, but studying medical theory was far from effortless for her—especially those lines of rare herb names, which were much harder to commit to memory than the life stories of the meritorious officials and great generals from the Former Dynasty.
The youth raised his head, overflowing with gratitude, repeating his words of thanks countless times. His expression was not that of someone about to detoxify another person; instead, it was as though Xue Yunyi, in her boundless compassion, meant to heal him and save his life.
Xue Yunyi smiled and asked, “So, Ah Lang, have you decided how you’re going to detoxify This Palace?”
Wu Lang said softly, “This slave doesn’t know the current state of your legs, so this slave boldly requests that Mistress permit this slave to massage the acupoints there.”
Xue Yunyi nodded in understanding. “Very well.”
Meng Jiang had done the same thing before, prescribing a medicinal bath formula tailored to her symptoms afterward.
With her permission, the youth carefully made his way back around to the front of the desk. He lowered his body, crawled underneath it, and knelt on his knees before Xue Yunyi’s toes.
She had only just let Mo Ying wipe her down and change her out of her previous blue-and-white embroidered skirt. Now she wore a single spring garment of floating smoke thin silk, its hem like soft cloud waves rippling and piling above her snow-white ankles.
The familiar scent of medicinal herbs drifted into his nostrils, thread by thread. It was the first time he had been this close to her—so close it threatened to drown him.
Wu Lang swallowed hard, not daring to let his thoughts wander. He carefully located the acupoints and massaged them with bated breath.
Xue Yunyi leaned back against the chair, idly flipping through an ancient scroll. Her legs were utterly numb, so she felt neither pain nor comfort from his touch.
Glancing down by chance, she saw the youth kneeling obediently in the cramped space beneath the desk. His brows were furrowed in serious concentration, utterly oblivious to the thin gauze that had slipped from his shoulders at some point, pooling silently around his waist.
Xue Yunyi’s breath caught.