Chapter 18 - 2#

The medicine bowl clattered onto the tray, accidentally tipping over. The medicinal soup trickled down, and a palace servant hurriedly carried the things out and brought back a new bowl.

“Your Majesty…”

Xiao Cuan picked up the medicine bowl again and looked down at Yanzhi.

Yanzhi had recovered slightly and had fallen back asleep in his arms.

He couldn’t hear Xiao Cuan speaking, so his usual threats were useless against him.

He had made up his mind not to take the medicine, so neither soup nor pills were effective either.

He…

He was just such a stubborn and delicate little dog, leaving one with no way to handle him.

Xiao Cuan remained silent for a moment, then finally said to the servants and physicians, “You all may withdraw.”

The group glanced at each other and left once more: “Yes.”

In the inner hall, only Xiao Cuan and Yanzhi remained.

Xiao Cuan picked up the medicine bowl and took a sip himself first.

It was indeed unpleasant to drink—fishy, foul-smelling, and mixed with fine medicinal residue.

No wonder Yanzhi made a face every time he drank it.

If he had known earlier, he should have exchanged Western medicine from the store for him to eat.

If he had known earlier, he shouldn’t have cut off his puffs and milk candy; he should have waited until he was recovered before cutting them off.

If he had known earlier, he shouldn’t have sent him to the palace gate to welcome the candidates.

If he had known earlier… if he had just locked him in the Taiji Hall, there wouldn’t be so many problems today.

Xiao Cuan held a mouthful of the medicinal soup, then set down the bowl, cupped Yanzhi’s face with both hands, pried his lips apart with his thumbs, and fed him the soup bit by bit.

When their lips and teeth met, Yanzhi instinctively shivered, and then Xiao Cuan held his face and pressed closer.

Between them, it was finally no longer the tearing and biting of a wild beast’s kiss.

But a gentle, slow licking and feeding.

However, the wounds from the previous biting were still there. As the warm soup flowed over the wounds on the corners of Yanzhi’s lips, the pain made him shiver again.

Xiao Cuan fed Yanzhi the soup from the bowl mouthful by mouthful. Noticing Yanzhi’s trembling, every time he pulled away, he would gently lick the wounds on Yanzhi’s lips with the tip of his tongue.

After feeding the last mouthful, Xiao Cuan held Yanzhi and patted his back.

He waited for half a quarter-hour, and only after confirming Yanzhi wouldn’t vomit again did he lay him down.

As before, the moment Yanzhi left his arms, he curled up and hid in the innermost part of the bed.

This time, Xiao Cuan didn’t reach out to grab him but instead picked up the ointment prepared by the physicians and sat on the inner side of the bed.

Using the pad of his index finger, he dipped a bit of the jade-white ointment and applied it to Yanzhi’s purple-bruised neck, which was still marked with teeth impressions.

At the moment of contact, Yanzhi let out a soft “wu” and curled up even tighter.

It hurt!

“Delicate.”

Xiao Cuan dipped more ointment. He had intended to apply it roughly, but at the moment he was about to strike, he still softened his movements slightly.

“How can you be so delicate?”

Unfastening his clothes, following down from the back of the neck was the shoulders, the waist and back, and then the chest.

Back in the cell, Xiao Cuan had nearly gnawed on every part of Yanzhi’s body. Now applying the medicine was naturally troublesome.

A full box of ointment was empty in the blink of an eye.

While applying the medicine, Xiao Cuan said coldly, “You’ve been raised more and more delicate by me, pampered more and more delicate.”

“Tell me yourself—was today’s matter your fault? Were you being naughty?”

“Scolding me, pushing me, hitting me, and even daring to say you won’t like me anymore. Are those words that can be spoken so casually?”

“I only locked you up for half a quarter-hour and handled you for a bit—how did I break you?”

“Regarding today’s matter, I’ll settle the score with you once you’re awake.”

“When you wake up, even saying ‘I like Your Majesty’ several hundred times won’t work. You’d better think quickly of some other sweet words to say to me.”

“Otherwise—”

Xiao Cuan raised his hand high, making a gesture to slap Yanzhi’s bottom.

When it finally descended, however, he only helped him adjust his clothes.

*

Yanzhi was severely ill; after drinking the medicine, he only improved for a short while.

In less than half an hour, he developed a fever again. He couldn’t sleep peacefully, his small face wrinkled, tears flowing, and he whimpered in his sleep.

At one moment he said, “I was wrong, Your Majesty, it’s all my fault… I beg Your Majesty to spare Young Master Xie…”

At another moment he said, “I’m afraid of the dark, there are ghosts… there are ghosts here… is anyone here to talk to me?”

So Xiao Cuan sat cross-legged beside him, answering him sentence by sentence, responding to every question.

“Nonsense. If you sleep with your eyes closed, how could it not be dark?”

“Where are the ghosts? I am here—where are the ghosts? You little ghost?”

“Aren’t I talking to you? What do you want to say?”

“Your Majesty…” Yanzhi cried and called out twice, “Your Majesty…”

“Mm.”

In the end, however, Yanzhi stopped his tears, shook his head, and repeatedly said, “I never want to like Your Majesty anymore… never want Your Majesty anymore… never again…”

Xiao Cuan’s face darkened, wanting to pinch his mouth, but he saw that the wounds on his lips had just begun to scab and he looked pitiful.

Fine.

This idiot is sick and doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

I won’t hold it against him; I’ll wait until he’s awake.

Xiao Cuan turned his head and opened his mouth: “Skip—”

He wanted to shout “Skip,” skip to tomorrow, skip to the day after—preferably skip to when Yanzhi was clear-headed and wouldn’t speak nonsense anymore.

But—

He was also afraid that if he skipped to tomorrow, Yanzhi would have died directly from the illness.

By then, even loading a save would be too late.

Xiao Cuan remained silent for a moment and finally closed his mouth.

He turned back, took a teacup from a palace servant, took a sip of warm water himself first, and then fed it to Yanzhi.

The sleep-talking hadn’t stopped all night; who knows how much saliva he had wasted.

It was better to drink some.

This night, the entire Taiji Hall was busy and in an uproar.

Several imperial physicians, carrying their medicine chests, waited in the corridor, ready to be summoned at any time.

Palace servants entered and exited, constantly bringing clean hot water, towels, and food.

Xiao Cuan held Yanzhi, talking to him, wiping his face, and feeding him warm water.

Finally, estimating that the power of the decoction had passed, Xiao Cuan dismissed the others again and used the old method of mouth-to-mouth to feed him his own pills and liquid medicine.

In the end, his medicine was indeed more effective.

As the sky began to grow light, Yanzhi finally stopped having a fever and no longer spoke in his sleep, falling into a deep, heavy slumber.

The physicians felt his pulse and said that since the fever had broken, he should have pulled through and would be fine.

Xiao Cuan glanced at them, too lazy to care, and simply waved his hand to let them all go.

These quacks only knew how to say these formulaic words.

The crowd came like a tide and left in a swarm.

Xiao Cuan hadn’t slept all night. He lowered the curtains before the bed, blocking out the daylight from the windows.

Inside the curtains, it was dim. Yanzhi still had his back turned to him, hiding in the corner.

Xiao Cuan thought for a moment, then moved closer, embracing Yanzhi from behind. He deliberately softened his movements, gathering him entirely into his arms.

If Yanzhi wanted to hide in the nooks and crannies, Xiao Cuan would let him.

On such a large bed, two men lying on it only occupied a tiny corner.

In their time together, Xiao Cuan had always been domineering and forceful, grabbing Yanzhi, positioning him, and making him hold him and stay close.

But now…

Xiao Cuan closed his eyes, his chest against Yanzhi’s back. In self-mockery, he let out a low scoff, his chest vibrating.

—Xiao Cuan, oh Xiao Cuan, even you have such a day.

*

For Xiao Cuan, sleep was merely a way to replenish stamina and maintain life.

He held Yanzhi and woke up after sleeping for two hours.

When he woke up, Yanzhi was still nestled in his arms, breathing steadily and sleeping soundly.

Xiao Cuan let him go, tucked the blanket around him, got out of bed, and walked out of the inner hall.

A mountain of matters waited for him to handle outside: a pile of memorials for his review and a group of ministers for him to summon.

The surrender of enemy states, military training, court trivialities, and—

A minister inquired: “Replying to Your Majesty, now that all the selection candidates have entered the palace and been settled, we wonder when the… final interview will take place?”

“What’s the rush?” Xiao Cuan sat in his high seat, reading a memorial while replying with an impatient tone, “There are many matters recently; I can’t attend to them yet. Let them stay in the palace and read more books; it won’t hurt.”

“Yes.” The minister bowed his head.

Another minister asked: “We heard that yesterday Your Majesty issued a decree to send the Xie family’s son, Xie Yi, to the purification room. We wonder what crime he committed and how Your Majesty intends to handle him?”

Xiao Cuan paused for a moment, only then remembering that there was still someone locked in the purification room.

If they hadn’t mentioned it, he would have forgotten long ago.

Xiao Cuan slammed the memorial in his hand onto the desk and asked in return, “What is the purification room for? Do you all not know? I sent him there—how I intend to handle him, do you all not know?”

The ministers hurriedly said, “May Your Majesty appease your anger; we are terrified.”

Xiao Cuan gave a cold scoff and took one last look at the closed doors of the inner hall.

Just sending Xie Yi in made Yanzhi this sick.

If he actually castrated him, who knows what kind of scene would be made.

Yanzhi might act like a little cat, scratching and clawing at him with all his might.

Xiao Cuan reached out, picked up the memorial from the desk, and said flatly, “Forget it.”

“At that time, he was charging around the palace without any manners and collided with a noble person. Since you are all pleading for him, then forget it. Give him a beating and throw him out of the palace.”

He didn’t mention Yanzhi’s name, only calling him a “noble person.”

The ministers present yesterday didn’t dare say much, feigning ignorance and only saying “Your Majesty is magnanimous” to gloss over the matter.

Xiao Cuan lowered his eyes, flipping the memorial in his hand back and forth, closing it and opening it, opening it and closing it.

He thought, just this once.

He would only let Yanzhi off this once.

As long as Yanzhi never saw Xie Yi again for the rest of his life, as long as Yanzhi liked him wholeheartedly as before, with only him in his eyes and heart, he would spare Xie Yi.

While matters were being discussed in the main hall, suddenly, the hall door was pushed open a tiny crack from the outside.

Immediately after, a small black shadow, gripping the threshold, squeezed in from outside.

The ministers heard the movement, looked back, and were all startled.

It was that wolf cub.

a military officer stepped forward, intending to catch it and take it out, but was stopped by Xiao Cuan.

“No need for the trouble; let it be.”

“Yes.” The officer withdrew his hand.

Whether intentionally or not.

Xiao Cuan paused and added a sentence before them: “I picked it up from the mountains. Yanzhi treats it like a son, holding it all day without letting go. He gave it the name ‘Puff’—‘Puff’ as in ‘cream puff’.”

The ministers looked at each other, not knowing how to reply.

“The name is tricky—a dessert’s name. But Yanzhi likes it, so I let the ‘father and son’ be.”

With no one to restrain it, the cub trotted off, familiarly heading toward the inner hall. It squeezed through the crack in the inner hall door and slipped inside.

It had come to find Yanzhi.

And at this time, Yanzhi was lying on the bed with his back to the outside, still in a deep sleep.

The cub jumped up, its front paws gripping the quilt, its hind legs scrambling twice, and finally flipped onto the bed.

Back at the hunting camp, Yanzhi often held it on the bed to play, so it had always felt it was allowed on the bed, and its movements in climbing up were very practiced.

The cub walked to Yanzhi’s side. Knowing Yanzhi was sleeping, it didn’t disturb him, but simply curled its body, tucked its tail, and nestled obediently into his arms.

It missed its daddy.

*

So dark, so dim.

So sore, so painful.

Yanzhi didn’t know where he was—the purification room or the Taiji Hall.

Yanzhi also didn’t know who he was about to face—the executioner or His Majesty.

In his pitch-black dream, he ran continuously, trying to run out of this boundless darkness.

Just then, a wet, sticky thing wrapped around his wrist.

What was licking his wrist?

Warm and wet, with a bit of a stinging pain.

In his sleep, Yanzhi couldn’t help but frown.

Is it His Majesty?

It must be His Majesty.

Only His Majesty would treat him like this.

But his body felt so uncomfortable, his head was dizzy, he didn’t want to…

He wanted to rest for a bit—let him rest for a bit.

He didn’t want to do this with His Majesty right now…

“No!”

Yanzhi suddenly opened his eyes and gave a push with his hand, shoving away the thing before him.

“No… I don’t want Your Majesty…”