Chapter 10

The next day.

Su Yan's hand, which was applying the medicine, suddenly stopped. A drop of the tissue-regenerating ointment from the cotton swab landed on the new flesh on Su Zhelan's shoulder, startling the young man.

"Nonsense!" Su Yan turned around abruptly, slamming the pestle on the table with a "thud," causing the books on the table to flip through their pages with a clatter. "Did you think the acupuncture I gave you was just for show? Your left eye is healed, and you want to watch fireworks as soon as your right eye can see? Your leg bone hasn't fully healed yet, and you want to go to the temple fair?"

Before he could finish speaking, Sheng Xuan lifted the curtain, creating a gust of wind that struck Su Yan's swung pestle—though he didn't hold back, it only made a crisp "clang" sound on his helmet.

"And you!" Su Yan turned around and gave Xiao Qiyun a flick on the forehead.

Su Zhelan huddled by the couch, watching Sheng Xuan rubbing his helmet with a wronged expression, and then glancing at Xiao Qiyun's downcast profile. She understood perfectly as if she had calculated the moves in a game of chess—Su Yan's opposition gave him the excuse of being "forced to stay," making Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun even more eager to fight for him.

My heart felt like it had been stuffed with a piece of water-soaked cotton.

“Master…” Su Zhelan spoke softly, her fingers twisting the corner of the blanket, deliberately revealing a vulnerable curve, “I just…”

"Just what?" Su Yan put his hands on his hips, the strap of his medicine box slipping down to his elbows without him bothering to steady himself. "Do you think I'm just a figurehead as a physician? Let me tell you, even if a god came today, you wouldn't be allowed to go to this temple fair!"

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting shimmering spots of light on Su Zhelan's knees. He looked at Su Yan's ears, reddened with anger, and then at Sheng Xuan's flushed face—his knuckles were white as he clenched the wolf-tooth belt at his waist, his Adam's apple bobbing but unable to utter a rebuttal.

Su Zhelan suddenly lowered her eyelashes, her fingertips lightly brushing against the brocade quilt beside the couch, her voice as soft as the wind: "Master, don't be angry... I won't go then."

Concession is more effective than argument, and sure enough, Sheng Xuan clenched his fists even tighter, and Xiao Qiyun's brows furrowed as well.

These words caused Su Yan to abruptly stop the pestle he had raised in mid-air. His eyes widened as he looked at Su Zhelan as if to prove his resolve: "Your leg injury does require rest. Master, you work hard changing your dressings every day. I shouldn't make you worry." Every word struck a nerve with Su Yan, acknowledging his hardship while also appearing sensible, leaving no room for anyone else to plead for him.

Sheng Xuan opened his mouth, but Su Yan glared at him and shut him up.

Su Yan snorted and slammed the pestle heavily onto the stone bench: "You're good at knowing what's good for you!"

After saying that, he grabbed Shengxuan, who still wanted to argue, and walked out the door. The sound of armor plates clashing and muttering gradually faded away, and Shuyu Courtyard finally became quiet.

The copper bells under the eaves jingled softly in the wind, and Su Zhelan then looked up at Xiao Qiyun standing by the couch.

“Your Highness,” Su Zhelan said in a lower voice, gesturing for him to come closer, but her fingertips nervously twisted the corner of the blanket. This nervousness was half acting and half testing Xiao Qiyun’s reaction. “Just now… I wanted to give you something.”

He pulled out a red knot from under his pillow—the knot was rough, and there were still bits of grass stuck in the gaps from when he was weaving it last night.

"I made this last night. I saw someone in the village making it when I was a traveling doctor. I made it for peace and safety." Su Zhelan put the peace knot into Xiao Qiyun's palm, not daring to look him in the eye. She deliberately lowered her head, revealing her slender neck, as if to show weakness. "Don't mind it. Have fun at the temple fair."

Xiao Qiyun's fingertips touched the warm red string, and he suddenly remembered how Su Zhelan had been clumsily winding thread by candlelight by the table last night. At the time, he thought Su Zhelan was reading a medical book, but it turned out he was secretly weaving this.

"How could I dislike it?" he whispered, his fingertips tracing the crooked lines of the knot, the heat there burning like fire, confirming that Su Zhelan held a place for him in her heart, the warmth of Su Zhelan's palm still lingering there. "I like it very much."

The next day, Sheng Xuan had just returned from the martial arts training ground, his silver armor still covered in grass clippings. He kicked open the door of Shuyu Courtyard and saw Xiao Qiyun looking down, playing with a red string peace knot.

"What's that?" Sheng Xuan's voice suddenly rose, pointing to Xiao Qiyun's sleeve pocket, instantly bristling, "Who gave it to you?"

Su Zhelan hurriedly tried to explain, but saw Xiao Qiyun carefully put away the peace knot, his fingertips brushing against the knot with an almost imperceptible tenderness: "Zhelan gave it to me." His tone was flat, but it carried a triumphant assertion of ownership, deliberately provoking Sheng Xuan.

Those few words were like needles piercing Sheng Xuan's heart. The young general turned abruptly, his boots creaking against the blue bricks, the clanging of his armor plates startling the gray sparrows on the beams into fluttering flight. As he rushed out of Shuyu Courtyard, his cloak swept off the copper bells under the eaves, their tinkling sounds filled with the embarrassment and anger of having his secret exposed.

"Why does he have it and I don't!" Sheng Xuan hid behind the artificial hill, kicking the weeds in the crack of the stone hard. Sparks flew from his kneecap as jealousy burned in his chest, but he was determined to prove himself. "It's just a broken knot! I can find something better!"

He thought about the warmth of Su Zhelan's fingertips as she knitted, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Suddenly, he turned and ran towards the stable. His guards, seeing his hurried appearance, were about to ask, "Where is the Second Young Master going?" when he was cut off by the words, "Prepare the horse! Go get some things ready!"

Half an hour later, Sheng Xuan dragged an ebony wheelchair and burst through the gate of Shuyu Courtyard. The wheelchair was covered with a snow-white fox fur and a semi-transparent veil of misty gauze—the gauze could filter out strong light and also exuded a faint scent of benzoin.

"Sir!" Sheng Xuan shouted, startling the medicine in the stove into overflowing. "Look at this wheelchair! The gauze is the prized possession of Persian merchants, and the fox fur is softer than the cotton padding in your medicine chest!"

Su Yan poked his head out from behind the medicine furnace: "You're being silly again! I told you not to go—"

“Sir, look!” Sheng Xuan lifted the veil, and sunlight filtered through the fabric, turning into soft golden spots, like showing off a trophy. “Su Zhelan can sit here without shaking her legs or hurting her eyes! I even had a cook make some ox knee and deer tendon soup, which I packed in a thermos to take with me!”

Amidst the lingering aroma of herbs, Gu Linzhao entered through the moon gate carrying a medicine basket. He had just finished discussing border defenses with Sheng Chi at the martial arts arena, and the lining of his armor was still covered with fine sand from the sand table. A tiger tally token personally bestowed by Sheng Chi was pinned to his cuff.

“Why take it so seriously?” He straightened Su Yan’s disheveled clothes, his fingertips brushing against the medicinal powder on Su Yan’s shoulder. “Just now, after discussing military affairs with General Sheng Chi, we talked about the temple fair. He mentioned that he was worried the caravan’s camels might slip, so he had the engineers reinforce the bridge surface with tung oil, and even ordered the wooden stakes of the merchants’ tents to be re-wedged.”

Su Yan loosened his grip on the pestle, and the cotton wool in the copper basin swayed gently in the water.

“With Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun watching over her, Zhe Lan won’t get hurt.” Gu Linzhao picked up the veil from the table and examined it against the light.

"This gauze is a tribute from Persia. There are only two bolts left in Sheng Chi's warehouse. I don't know how Sheng Xuan managed to get it. Look at this wheelchair, it's even more stable than the palanquin in the palace." Every sentence was praising Sheng Xuan, but in reality, it was giving Su Yan a way out and also implying Sheng Xuan's concern for Su Zhelan.

"Fine!" Su Yan finally slammed the pestle onto the stone bench. "But you must do three things: return before sunset, administer eye drops every half hour, and stay within ten feet of the fireworks display area!"

Sheng Xuan squatted down in front of the wheelchair, quickly untied the leather straps of the footrests, pressed his fingertips on the fox fur cushion, and blew dust off the brass springs on the wheelchair's axle: "Ze Lan! Try this chair! I had Hu Shang stuff three layers of rabbit fur into the cushion, it's softer than your couch!"

Xiao Qiyun stepped forward to help Su Zhelan to his feet, his sleeve brushing against the boy's thin arm. Just as Su Zhelan shifted his weight to his left leg, Sheng Xuan hurriedly came over to carry him, but was stopped by Xiao Qiyun's eyes.

As the three moved to the wheelchair, Su Zhelan's fingertips just touched the smoky gauze, and the semi-transparent fabric immediately filtered out soft gold spots, which fell onto the back of his hand.

"Sit down slowly." Xiao Qiyun held the armrests of the wheelchair and waited until Su Zhelan was seated steadily before placing his legs on the footrests. The fur of the fox fur brushed against his calves, which was surprisingly warm, and when the wheelchair was lowered, the brass springs made a slight "creaking" sound, completely dissipating the vibration.

Sheng Xuan knelt on the blue bricks, looking up at Su Zhelan: "How is it? Is it bouncy? I bought this spring from the Persian caravan. They use this to pull jewels!" Like a puppy eager for praise, he waited expectantly for Su Zhelan's compliments.

Su Zhelan subconsciously swayed his wheelchair, and sure enough, it was as stable as if it were resting on the surface of a lake. He raised his hand and touched the smoky gauze. The fabric was slightly cool to the touch, but he could clearly see the light and shadow outside—Gu Linzhao was right, the strong light was filtered into soft, flowing light spots, like moonlight immersed in water.

"It's very comfortable." Su Zhelan raised her head, her left eye looking at Sheng Xuan through the gauze curtain, her eyelashes casting trembling shadows in the light and shadow. "Thank you, Sheng Xuan." This thank you was just right, comforting Sheng Xuan.

The "thank you" was like a pebble thrown into Sheng Xuan's heart. Sheng Xuan looked up abruptly, meeting Su Zhelan's smiling gaze—those eyes, once clouded, now seemed to shimmer with tiny stars as they looked through the veil of mist. He suddenly felt a tightness in his throat, and his previously rambling tongue suddenly tied itself in knots: "...thank you for what!"

Despite his firm words, he secretly clenched the hidden pattern on his cuffs, as if trying to wipe away his unease. Su Zhelan sat in the newly made wheelchair, her thin shoulders wrapped in fox fur, making her cheeks almost transparent. Yet, the slight curve of her lips beneath the veil, like looking at flowers through a mist, made Sheng Xuan's heart suddenly clench—as if pierced through the chest by a poisoned crossbow bolt.

"Second Young Master has indeed gone to great lengths." Xiao Qiyun spoke gently, bending down to tuck the edges of Su Zhelan's fox fur coat tighter. His fingertips seemingly unintentionally covered Su Zhelan's knuckles resting on the armrest, using the coolness of the white jade ring to block Sheng Xuan's gaze. The white jade ring brushed against the young man's wrist bone.

Sheng Xuan squinted, blinded by the dazzling white light, and chuckled, raising his chin: "Of course!" He tapped the gilded armrest of the wheelchair heavily with his finger, the black iron wrist guard clanging loudly.

"The things prepared for him, I had to use every trick in the book?" The last two words were emphasized, both self-deprecating and a retort—I understand your schemes. But her gaze was like a nail driven into the fingertips of Xiao Qiyun's hand that were resting on Su Zhelan's hand.

“Scheming?” Gu Linzhao’s voice was not loud, but it was like a block of ice thrown into boiling water, instantly freezing the air. He put down the medicine basket, and the mulberry wood chips tapped lightly on the table. “If the Second Young Master used this ‘scheming’ in the training ground, he wouldn’t have lost to the centurion of the Imperial Guard in the archery competition last month.”

Su Yan immediately seized the opportunity, banging the pestle on the rim of the copper basin: "Did you hear that? Even Lin Zhao is ashamed of you! Why aren't you practicing archery? If you lose again, the general's lashes are waiting!"

Gu Linzhao turned to Xiao Qiyun and tapped the tiger tally on his sleeve with his fingertip: "Your Highness, the general requests your personal review and approval of the details regarding the passage documents for the temple fair caravan."

Xiao Qiyun gently stroked the peace knot one last time with his fingertips, carefully tucked it into his pocket, and said softly to Su Zhelan, "I'll be right back."

Sheng Xuan was pushed and shoved by Su Yan as he walked out, shouting, "Who lost to the centurion!" But he didn't forget to turn back and shout to Su Zhelan, "There's a hidden compartment under the wheelchair armrest! I've stuffed some food in there for you, hehe!" He had to leave some trace of himself.

Before he could finish speaking, Su Yan kicked him out the door: "Keep the food for yourself! If you make another sound, I'll sew your mouth shut with gold needles!"

The curtain fell, shutting out the noise from outside. Shuyu Courtyard suddenly fell silent, with only the bubbling of the medicine stove and the soft ringing of the copper bells under the eaves.

Gu Linzhao picked up the medicine basket and walked to the backyard: "The freshly picked snow-viewing grass should be processed while it's still fresh."

Su Yan snorted, squatted down in front of the wheelchair to check the springs, and muttered, "None of them are any good..."

Su Zhelan looked at the swirl of hair on Su Yan's head, her fingertips unconsciously tugging at the fur of his fox fur. "Master," he said, his voice as soft as a feather, "the wheelchair... is hurting my back."

Su Yan immediately looked up, his hand, smelling of medicinal oil, pressed against Su Zhelan's lower back: "Where does it hurt? Isn't this rabbit fur cushion soft enough? That kid Sheng Xuan is really unreliable!" He grumbled as he untied the belt around Su Zhelan's waist and stuffed two more soft pillows deeper into the fox fur. "How about this? Is it still uncomfortable?" He was so touched by Su Zhelan's "fragility" that he forgot his anger from before.

Su Zhelan leaned back, the newly added soft pillow supporting her aching lower back, feeling warm and cozy. "Much better, thank you, Master."

He looked up and saw Gu Linzhao packing the processed snow-seeing grass into jars, the mulberry wood scraping against the rim of the porcelain jars making a soft rustling sound.

Gu Linzhao closed the last medicine jar, his fingertip lingering on the words "calming the mind" on the jar. His gaze swept over Su Zhelan's slightly tired face, finally settling on Su Yan's clothes stained with medicine.

"I'll go back to my room and sort out today's medical records first," he said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion, but he placed a newly prepared packet of calming powder on Su Zhelan's lap.

"Ayan, why don't you talk to Zhelan for a while?" He walked to the door, then stopped and added, "Don't stay too long, the bruises under your eyes are half an inch darker than they were the day before."

Su Yan was bending down to inspect the brass axle of his wheelchair when he heard this. Without even looking up, he waved his hand and said, "Enough with the nagging! I know what I'm doing! You, on the other hand, hurry up and light some agarwood incense. The smell is more invigorating than you standing here!"

Gu Linzhao shook his head almost imperceptibly, his figure disappearing behind the moon gate, his footsteps quickly swallowed by the gurgling sound of the medicine furnace.

The curtain swayed gently, letting in a cool night breeze.

Su Yan straightened up, patted the patina off his hands, and sat down on the stone bench next to Su Zhelan's wheelchair.

Only a faint echo remained of the copper bell under the eaves, and the firelight from the medicine furnace stretched the shadows of the two people onto the bluestone slab, swaying gently with the flames.

“Listen,” Su Yan cleared his throat, his fingertips tapping the pestle on his knee in a habitual rhythm, his gaze fixed on Su Zhelan’s face veiled in mist, “The temple fair isn’t a martial arts arena, don’t be reckless. Apply the eye drops every half hour. I’ve told Sheng Xuan to carry them with him at all times. If he dares to forget—”

He snorted, "I'll just throw his precious wolf fang into the medicine furnace and refine it! Your leg injury is more serious; you absolutely cannot put weight on it. If Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun can't carry you, tell them to come back and call me! Ten feet of smoke is the death line; that sulfurous ash, once it gets into your lungs, is harder to clear than a poison attack! And..."

He suddenly leaned forward, the scent of medicinal oil mixed with mugwort wafting towards you. His low voice carried an undeniable seriousness: "If you feel a tightness in your chest, your vision blurring, or the Gu worm mark burning hot, call 'Stop' immediately! Forget about temple fairs or dragon festivals, get back here right now! Do you hear me?"

His rough fingertips almost touched Su Zhelan's nose, and every word he spoke was filled with worry.

Su Zhelan looked at the bloodshot eyes and deep bruises in Su Yan's eyes, and the worry inside them felt like scalding medicine, burning his heart.

He nodded slightly, his fingertips emerging from the fox fur and, very quickly, like a cub brushing against its mother's fur, touching the back of Su Yan's hand resting on the armrest of his wheelchair.

“I’ve noted it all down, Master. You should go and rest now; Mr. Gu must be getting impatient.” This touch carried a deliberate intimacy, reinforcing her “well-behaved” image.

Su Yan recoiled as if burned, quickly pulling his hand back, rubbing it in his sleeve, and muttering to himself.

“Who made him wait…”, but he still stood up. He walked to the door, then turned back again, pretending to tidy up the medicine box straps, and quickly glanced at the calming powder on Su Zhelan’s knee: “…that powder, light it before bed, it will help you sleep more soundly.”

After saying that, he practically fled, lifting the curtain and heading out. His footsteps lingered in the corridor for a moment before finally heading towards Gu Linzhao's courtyard.

Shuyu Courtyard fell completely silent. Su Zhelan sat alone in his wheelchair, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the rough scented powder packet on his lap. He looked at the swaying shadows of the trees outside the window, a smile playing on his lips that went unnoticed.