Chapter 22

Lu Xuejin noticed a dampness near his ear in the middle of the night. He was a light sleeper and opened his eyes in the darkness.

The warmth enveloped his neck, and he wondered if the boy in his arms was sleepwalking. A distinct touch landed on his skin, and he paused, his fingers hovering in mid-air, unsure whether to lower them. The cat licked his ear twice, and before he could react, the other seemed startled.

The air grew quiet, and the chirping of insects could be heard outside the tent. The chirping of insects blended with the moonlight. After Murong Yue finished, he nestled motionless in his arms, his breathing too light, but his breath too hot, almost scalding him.

Lu Xuejin looked at the person in the darkness, and could vaguely see the boy's profile. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, but felt an invisible gaze on him, and the boy's breath getting closer and closer. The boy's palm touched his hair.

Just as the boy was about to touch him, he pretended to be asleep and turned to the side, still holding the boy with one arm.

He was like incense burning before a Buddha statue, always drawing people to glimpse the face of the gods and Buddhas. After he turned to the side, the boy also stirred in his arms, his lips pressing against his neck.

A cool touch came, carrying with it an invisible sensuality. He opened his eyes, feeling the cool fragrance emanating from the boy's side, and indulged himself slightly, refraining from moving. However, the spot where the other had kissed him felt vaguely familiar.

It's like he's imitating Xue Yi.

He loathed Xue Yi's actions and couldn't recall the sensation of touch. When the boy touched him, he had indulged and doted on him, making the marks all the more distinct. A fine drizzle fell, obscuring the night.

Early the next morning.

Lu Xuejin looked in the mirror. He was perfectly fine in the mirror, as if the events of the previous day had been a dream. He stared at his ears and neck. Murong Yue, who had woken up earlier, approached him from behind.

"Brother Changyou, you're awake?" Murong Yue lifted the tent flap.

"I just woke up. I got up late today. Your Highness, there's no need to force yourself. It's not too late to get out of bed after a few more days of rest," Lu Xuejin said.

Murong Yue: "I understand, don't worry, brother. I just wanted to try getting out of bed and walking a few steps when I woke up this morning. Thanks to you, brother, my injuries have improved a lot. As long as I don't exert myself, it won't hurt anymore."

"Did you sleep well the night before, brother?" Murong Yue asked him, his fan-shaped eyes clear and bright, his canine teeth slightly wagging.

Looking at the child's canine teeth, Lu Xuejin recalled how the boy had kissed and rubbed against him in the middle of the night. Now, looking at the boy's pure face, his eyes were spotless and unblemished, and he couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

"It's acceptable," he replied after careful consideration.

"Young Master! Ninth Prince." Tengluo poked her head in from outside the tent, looking at the two of them. "Get up and come have breakfast. I've already cooked it."

With the arrival of Tengluo, the tent immediately became lively. The breakfast was exceptionally lavish. Tengluo usually did as little work as possible, letting the Ninth Prince do many things himself. But now that she saw the Ninth Prince was injured, she even brought out a stool in advance and carefully helped the young man sit down.

"Your Highness, you have no idea how worried I've been about you these past few days. I heard you were injured, and I couldn't get here in time. I was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, pacing around the room all day long. Your injury is so serious, and you still haven't seen who did it. If you do see it, just tell me, and I will definitely help Your Highness get justice," Tengluo chattered on from the side.

Ziyan laughed, "This whole table is made of wisteria. We started preparing it before dawn. The sacrificial ceremony just ended today, and we came all the way from where the ceremony was held."

"Does Your Highness need any help with your meals?" Lu Xuejin asked, then teased Tengluo, "If you need any help, Tengluo can feed Your Highness."

"I don't want to, this is something Young Master should do. Tengluo has prepared a big meal, Tengluo has worked hard, Tengluo should eat too." Tengluo sat down next to Ziyan, her cheeks puffing out.

“No need, it’s really hard work for Tengluo. I can do it myself,” Murong Yue said, smiling at Tengluo.

This laugh sent chills down Tengluo's spine, and she nearly choked on her snack. She found it extremely strange; she hadn't yet told the young master that the Ninth Prince had two faces. He was a completely different person at the dinner table and in private. She knew why the Ninth Prince hadn't revealed the murderer's identity. Many of those who had previously humiliated him had either died or been seriously injured.

Seeing that Murong Yue was staring at her with no emotion in his eyes, she immediately turned her head to talk to Ziyan and decided not to say anything.

“Young Master didn’t go, so he didn’t see it. His Majesty looked very unwell during today’s ceremony. Lord Song also looked rather unwell,” Tengluo said.

“The ceremony is quite complicated, I’m sure you’ll have had a hard time,” Lu Xuejin said to Tengluo. “It takes two hours in total, I’m sure the two of them won’t find it interesting.”

"It's just... I've been standing there the whole time, and I'm not allowed to move. It's so boring," Tengluo said. Ziyan put a pastry on her plate, and her eyes lit up immediately. "Young Master's place is the best, and Ziyan is the best too."

Upon hearing this, Lu Xuejin's gaze softened as she looked at the young man beside her who had difficulty moving. The young man had barely touched his chopsticks.

"Your Highness, please eat well." Lu Xuejin personally served the boy a bowl of soup. He placed the bowl in front of Murong Yue, their fingertips touching, but the boy naturally did not react.

"Thank you, brother," Murong Yue said.

His gaze swept past Murong Yue's ear, where a faint blush appeared on the tip of his ear.

The next few days passed peacefully in the tent. The boy slept very well at night, as if the events of that night had truly been an illusion. Lu Xuejin carried a small stove for several days; the fire grew stronger, and her injuries gradually began to heal.

Ten days passed in the blink of an eye, and they did not return to the palace until the end of March.

Fang Huigong was already waiting for Song Zhao outside Fangze Hall.

Song Zhao: "His Majesty has fallen ill with weakness. The imperial physicians have been attending to him for several days, but there has been no improvement. If Lord Lu has some free time, please come with me to Xiyuan Palace."

Lu Xuejin asked quietly, "Is this His Majesty's will?"

“It has nothing to do with His Majesty; it is I who wish to invite Lord Lu over,” Song Zhao said.

The two spoke casually, looked at each other, and remained silent for a moment, as if the moment when they were at each other's throats had vanished.

“Thank you for your concern, Lord Song,” Lu Xuejin nodded as if she understood, and then pondered, “It might not be of any use if I go. We should ask the imperial physicians to think of a solution.”

As Lu Xuejin turned to leave, Song Zhao's voice came from behind her.

"His Majesty vomited blood twice yesterday. It was I who came to find you. If you were unwilling to go, you would have remained unaware of this matter."

Upon hearing this, Lu Xuejin stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Song Zhao, who seemed to have anticipated his return. Beneath the vermilion wall, crescent-shaped eyes quietly reflected him, creating a pool of clear water that blurred his features and emotions.

"..."

Xiyuan Hall.

Lu Xuejin stepped into Xue Yi's bedchamber. The dark furnishings were oppressive; the hall was not exposed to sunlight, the doors and windows were closed, and the shadows from the beams fell straight down, pressing down on one and making it hard to breathe. In the flickering candlelight, Xue Yi sat on the edge of the bed, half of his robe off, revealing several silver needles.

Upon seeing him enter, Xue Yi recognized him, and a change occurred to his pale face. His eyebrows rolled back in a deep silence, and his eyelashes trembled, causing the small mole under his eye to surface.

A violent cough echoed through the air. Xue Yi's skin was pale with a dark red tinge; his pale, ghostly form was pierced through his skin, and blood seeped from between his palms, dripping onto the bedding. A vibrant patch of color bloomed among the peonies.

Lu Xuejin watched the people from a distance, recalling the first time Xue Yi was sick, when he and his father surrounded Xue Yi's bedside.

"Father, why is he hiding here?" His father had chosen a similar room for Xue Yi, but Xue Yi spent all his time in that small room, hiding here and refusing to go out. That's when he asked the question.

A group of doctors surrounded the young Xue Yi, who had just been brought to the Prime Minister's residence. They had heard that the Xie Prince's residence had caught fire, and that the Xie Prince and his wife had perished inside. When Xue Yi was brought there, he was quiet and unresponsive, like an emotionless doll, remaining silent by the Prime Minister's side. Within a few days, he fell seriously ill.

His father didn't reply; he only heard the doctors' voices. The child had a knot in his heart, which had accumulated into an illness—in other words, he didn't want to live anymore. He was already weak, and his sick body, in accordance with his master's wishes, contracted a serious illness, determined to let this knot in his heart take root and fester until it bore the fruit of death.

The doctors were all helpless, and in the end, he and his father had to take care of him themselves. His father would rush to the small house as soon as he finished court, and he would come back as soon as he finished his studies. He would stay by Xue Yi's bedside, eating and sleeping next to him.

The image of the child on the bed in his memory overlapped with the person before him. Lu Xuejin was slightly lost in thought when the person before him vomited blood and turned back into that silent, ghostly doll. When he was a child, he always felt that Xue Yi was not like a living person; he had no vitality, only a heavy aura of death.

He came to his senses and walked to the bedside. The imperial physician knelt down beside him and trembled nervously when he saw Xue Yi coughing incessantly.

"Brother." He called out, and his wrist was immediately grabbed.

Xue Yi's slender eyes reflected his features, his expression deep and unfathomable, staring at him as if he wanted to devour him. The grip on his wrist was incredibly strong, a sharp pain shooting through his wrist; Xue Yi's movements were gentle, yet he intended to break his wrist.

“How could Changyou have time to come over... I thought you were busy taking care of others and wouldn’t care whether I lived or died.”

A bruise immediately appeared on his wrist. Xue Yi's strength was considerable, and his words were also affected by the illness. He reminded himself to calm down and not to stoop to the level of a patient.

“Brother, there’s no need to be angry. You hurt someone first,” Lu Xuejin said calmly, letting Xue Yi hold him while looking at the glaring bloodstains. “...Your health is the most important thing. Don’t get yourself sick from anger.”

As she spoke, Lu Xuejin turned to the imperial physician beside her, "What medicine has His Majesty been taking these past few days?"

"..." Upon hearing this, the imperial physician said in a low voice, "Reporting to Lord Lu, His Majesty is busy with the sacrificial ceremony and has not taken any medicine."

The air fell silent. Lu Xuejin turned his gaze back to Xue Yi, who seemed oblivious to his own mistake, and said to him, "...If I had taken the medicine, Changyou wouldn't have come."

A note from the author: