Chapter 23

Sheng Xuan leaned against the mottled wall, his brows furrowed into a deep furrow.

The evening breeze carried the lingering smoke and fire of the temple fair, but his mind was filled with the scar on the back of Su Zhelan's neck—a distorted outline hidden beneath the burn.

"Cult remnants?" he muttered under his breath, kicking pebbles far away. But then he remembered Su Zhelan's rock-solid hands as she treated his wounds, and the reddened corners of his eyes when Su Yan scolded him, and the thought seemed absurd. If he really was a member of a cult, why would Su Yan save him?

The attack at the temple fair felt like a thorn in his heart. Those men in black, their eyes fanatical, chanting "Holy Son," their target terrifyingly clear. Su Zhelan's agonizing expression at the time was genuine—yet the accuracy with which he flicked the silver needles clearly showed he'd practiced. What was he hiding? Was he a victim hunted by a cult, or…?

He scratched his head in frustration.

"Ugh! This is so annoying!" Sheng Xuan cursed under his breath, his throat tightening.

As he pondered, the copper bells of the Persian caravan at the alley entrance jingled. He looked up and saw a foreign woman wearing a silver forehead chain, the lapis lazuli pendant gleaming faintly in the twilight, like stars touched by night dew. In a daze, Sheng Xuan thought of Su Zhelan, whose slender neck was accentuated by his moon-white nightgown, and whose eyes must be clear at this moment, his pupils like washed glass. If he were to drape this forehead chain behind his temple, the cold light of the lapis lazuli reflecting his recently recovered spirit, he would surely be ten times more lively than the foreign woman.

"Damn it." Sheng Xuan sat up abruptly, his ears burning.

He rushed over in a few strides and bought the silver chain without saying a word. The clinking of the silver chains made him forget the exclamations of the foreign merchants.

Holding the cool lapis lazuli in my fingertips, my mind is filled with the image of Su Zhelan wearing it—perhaps she'll blink, perhaps she'll look up at me, whatever the case, she'll definitely look beautiful.

He paid haphazardly, bought some food, and turned to hurry back.

The shadows cast on the bluestone slabs by the setting sun stretched long, like a young boy chased by his thoughts, clutching not only food but also an unbridled, burning desire in his hand.

Dusk was seeping in through the window, casting bamboo shadows on the floor.

Su Zhelan leaned against the headboard, his collar loosely open, revealing half of his thin neck. As he turned his head to listen to Xiao Qiyun speak, his gaze subtly fell on the other's bandaged left arm—the edges of the bandage were faintly oozing a dark color, clearly from turning the pages of a book that had aggravated the wound.

“Your arm,” Su Zhelan suddenly spoke, his voice as soft as a feather falling on water, “was it bleeding when you changed the dressing? The wound will hurt terribly after the anesthetic wears off.” He gently traced the brocade quilt with his fingertips, seemingly concerned, but his peripheral vision was fixed on Xiao Qiyun’s expression.

Xiao Qiyun paused in his book-turning motion, and when he looked up, all the ripples in his eyes had vanished: "It's just a slight sting, nothing serious." He pressed the book against his knee and asked in return, "But you, how exactly did those people from the night before trigger your Gu poison again?"

Su Zhelan's fingertips suddenly stopped on the brocade quilt, his fingertips leaving several shallow marks. He lowered his eyelashes, avoiding Xiao Qiyun's sharp gaze, and lowered his voice even further, with a hint of deliberate weariness: "Perhaps... we encountered some kind of rare poisonous plant pollen."

"Poisonous herbs?" Xiao Qiyun's fingertips tapped lightly on the edge of the book, making a soft, rustling sound. "Which poisonous herb can precisely activate the Gu within your body?"

Su Zhelan's Adam's apple bobbed, and he casually made up an excuse: "I came into contact with the powder of 'Red Blood Grass' a few days ago. The book mentions that this grass is potent and can trigger old poisons when it comes into contact with blood." He deliberately emphasized the words "in the book," trying to use his authority to cover up his flaws, but he couldn't help but glance at Xiao Qiyun out of the corner of his eye—the other's gaze was like a needle tempered with ice, as if trying to dissect his lie.

Silence spread in the twilight, and the bamboo shadows swayed gently on the floor, as if urging each other on silently.

Xiao Qiyun chuckled softly, placing the book on the bedside table. "So that's how it is." He didn't press further, but his tone betrayed little disbelief. As his fingertips brushed against the other's wrist, he suddenly asked, "When we return to the manor tomorrow, Mr. Su will definitely examine your pulse carefully. Can you... hide your condition from me?"

Su Zhelan's heart tightened suddenly, but she forced herself to remain calm and looked up, a self-deprecating smile appearing in her eyes: "Don't worry, I'm his apprentice, I know how to behave."

He deliberately straightened his back, revealing a doctor's certainty, "If I just lie and say that the temple fair was tiring and aggravated an old injury, it would be reasonable for my pulse to be weak and floating."

Even so, his fingers tightened their grip on the quilt—Su Yan's eyes, capable of discerning all poisons, were the hardest to hide from, but compared to having his cult past exposed, this risk seemed insignificant.

Xiao Qiyun looked at his forced composure, then suddenly reached out and lightly touched his pale lips with his fingertips: "If you really can't hide it..." He paused, his voice as deep as ink soaked in water, "I'll take the blame for you."

Su Zhelan's breath hitched, and when she looked up, she met Xiao Qiyun's unfathomable eyes. The twilight swirled in those eyes, making it impossible to tell whether it was genuine affection or yet another gentle trap.

Su Zhelan lowered her eyelashes, her long lashes casting a shadow under her eyes, and her tone was deliberately relaxed: "After all, I am a doctor, and I can still control the movements of my own body."

Sheng Xuan's knuckles turned white as he gripped the oil paper package. When he reached the entrance of "Qingzhuxuan", he paused for a moment for no apparent reason.

The copper bells on the eaves jingled softly in the evening breeze, as if urging him to go inside, or perhaps mocking his barely concealed awkwardness. He took a deep breath, then abruptly pushed open the wooden door, the carved wooden hinges creaking softly.

Dusk was seeping in through the window, casting bamboo shadows on the floor.

Su Zhelan leaned against the headboard, tilting her head to listen to Xiao Qiyun speak.

Xiao Qiyun looked up at the sound, his gaze sweeping lightly over the oil paper package in Sheng Xuan's hand before returning to Su Zhelan's face: "Speak of the devil, and he appears."

Su Zhelan's gaze immediately turned, meeting Sheng Xuan's eyes directly. He saw that Sheng Xuan's ears were flushed, and the paper package in his hand was bulging. The corners of his mouth unconsciously curved into a smile: "You're back?"

The voice was warmer than in the afternoon, with a soft, mellow quality, as if it had just woken up.

Sheng Xuan's throat tightened. He placed the paper package on the table, the silver chain inside clinking softly. "I passed by the market and saw some sesame cakes for sale." He turned his face away, deliberately kicking the stool leg, the sound of his boots scraping the floor a little harsh. "What...you guys were talking about?"

Xiao Qiyun lightly tapped a page with his fingertip and said casually, "It's about Persian glass mirrors. Did you see them when you went to the market, Second Young Master?"

His tone was gentle, yet it seemed as if he had already seen through Sheng Xuan's thoughts. When his gaze swept over Su Zhelan, it carried an imperceptible scrutiny.

Su Zhelan was oblivious to the undercurrent between the two, and simply looked at Sheng Xuan: "What did you buy?"

Sheng Xuan's heart skipped a beat when he saw him staring at her. She hurriedly tore open the largest oil paper package, and the aroma of naan mixed with the scent of hummus filled the air: "Just... just some food."

As he spoke, he pushed Su Zhelan towards him. The silver forehead chain flashed at the bottom of the bag, but he quickly covered it with naan bread. His ear tips were so red they were almost bleeding.

Xiao Qiyun suddenly chuckled and put the book on the bedside table: "Second Young Master is so thoughtful. He was just telling Su Zhelan that in addition to glass mirrors, Persia also has some exquisite silver ornaments, and lapis lazuli pendants are the most flattering to the skin."

Sheng Xuan tightened his grip on the naan bread, sesame seeds falling into his sleeve.

He cursed under his breath for being nosy, but then he saw Su Zhelan lean over and part the crack in the naan bread with her fingertips, revealing the silver chain—the lapis lazuli glowed faintly in the twilight, and the pendant was shaped like a crescent moon.

“This is…” Su Zhelan’s fingertips lightly touched the silver chain, and when she looked up, her eyes were full of doubt, “For me?”

Sheng Xuan's Adam's apple bobbed, and he stiffly retorted, "I bought it on a whim."

Su Zhelan didn't take it too seriously, but simply held the silver chain in his hand and examined it closely. The cool touch of the silver chain against his palm, and the cold light of the lapis lazuli made his pupils even brighter, like two pools of crystal immersed in a stream.

"It's quite nice," he said softly, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the clasp.

Xiao Qiyun suddenly reached out and lightly brushed Su Zhelan's temple with his fingertips: "Shall I help you try it on?"

Sheng Xuan almost reflexively raised her hand and pressed down on Xiao Qiyun's wrist, her fingertips turning white from the force, but she found a plausible excuse: "The dressing was just changed, don't touch the wound."

He glanced at the patch of skin on the back of Su Zhelan's neck where ointment had just been applied, and a faint pink hue was faintly visible through the thin gauze. This reason was not unreasonable.

Xiao Qiyun's fingertips paused in mid-air, then he calmly withdrew his hand, his smile unchanged: "I was presumptuous."

He turned to the table, picked up the earthenware pot warming on the charcoal stove, and said, "I just made some mutton soup. It's so comforting to have something hot after waking up." Steam billowed from the pot, carrying the warm aroma of pepper and mutton, instantly dispelling the slight chill of the twilight.

Sheng Xuan stared at the jar of soup, his brows furrowing. "When was this prepared?" He clearly remembered that the table was empty when he left.

"Seeing that you haven't returned yet, I guessed that Zhelan must be hungry." Xiao Qiyun scooped out three bowls of soup with a wooden spoon, his movements leisurely. "The flatbread is just right to soak in the soup, it'll warm your stomach."

He pushed a bowl in front of Su Zhelan, the rim of the porcelain bowl glistening with sweat. "Drink slowly, be careful it's hot."

Su Zhelan held the soup bowl, feeling the warmth on her fingertips.

He watched Sheng Xuan stuff sesame cakes into his mouth with his neck stiffened, and then caught a glimpse of the faint shadow cast by Xiao Qiyun's eyelashes as he lowered his eyes to blow on the soup. Suddenly, he felt that the warmth of the twilight was more reassuring than the hustle and bustle of the temple fair.

"You drink too." Su Zhelan pushed another bowl of soup toward Sheng Xuan.

Shengxuan paused, her ears turning slightly red, and mumbled, "I know."

The bamboo shadows swayed on the surface of the soup, warming the silence of the three people.

As Xiao Qiyun put down the empty bowl, the porcelain spoon collided with the earthenware pot, making a soft sound. As he stood up, the hem of his robe swept across the edge of the charcoal stove, and the warm breeze he stirred caused a slight rustle in Su Zhelan's hair.

"I'll return them to the waiter." Xiao Qiyun had already begun tidying the table. He stacked the three empty bowls, carefully poured the remaining mutton soup from the earthenware jar into a rough porcelain pot, his movements so gentle as if afraid of disturbing the warmth that filled the room.

"Stay put." He turned back as he was leaving, his gaze lingering on Su Zhelan's wrist for a moment before sweeping over Sheng Xuan's tense profile, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I'll be right back."

After Xiao Qiyun's footsteps faded into the distance.

“This stone…” Su Zhelan suddenly spoke, her voice warmed by the charcoal fire, “The merchant from Hu didn’t lie to you, it really is cool to the touch.” With a gentle flick of her finger, the silver chain slid down her fingers to her wrist, the lapis lazuli against her skin like a piece of ice soaking in a stream.

Sheng Xuan was wiping her hands with a cloth when she heard this and scoffed, but her gaze involuntarily drifted to the silver chain: "Nonsense, otherwise why would I buy it?" She spoke toughly, but the tips of her ears were still flushed from the soup.

Su Zhelan suddenly leaned forward, and the lapis lazuli stone gently bumped against the bedside with her movement, making a crisp tinkling sound.

He was so close that Sheng Xuan could even smell the medicinal scent mixed in with his hair—the smell of the ointment that had rubbed off when he changed his dressing this morning.

“Yesterday…” Su Zhelan’s eyelashes drooped, obscuring the emotions in her eyes, leaving only half of her pale jawline visible, “In the alley, those people…” She paused, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the texture of the chain clasp, as if carefully choosing her words.

Shengxuan abruptly stopped wiping her hands. The cloth was twisted into a pretzel in her hand, her knuckles turning white.

He knew what Su Zhelan wanted to ask, but deliberately stuck out his neck and pretended to be stupid: "Those bastards? They've long since disappeared. Wait for me to go back to camp and mobilize the troops..."

When Shengxuan Su Zhelan looked up, the cold light of the lapis lazuli fell into his eyes, shining like ice. "Don't tell anyone."

The air suddenly became still, with only the rustling of bamboo in the wind. Sheng Xuan looked at the cautious plea in Su Zhelan's eyes and suddenly remembered how trembling those hands were when they gripped his wrists at the inn the night before—it was the first time he had seen Su Zhelan show such fear, even her fingernails turned white.

"Am I crazy?" He suddenly chuckled, slamming the cloth onto the table with a deliberately rude tone. "Tell Su Yan and the others this? If my brother finds out, he'll probably hang me in the training ground and beat me for three days straight."

His tone shifted abruptly, but he leaned closer, his cold gaze meeting Su Zhelan's eyes, "But you have to tell me, why were those people chasing you? That damn powder..."

Su Zhelan abruptly turned his face away, the lapis lazuli dangling more rapidly from his wrist. The scar on the back of his neck suddenly felt hot, as if tiny insects were crawling under his skin. He knew Sheng Xuan would ask sooner or later, but at this moment, being stared at by those direct eyes, his throat still tightened.

“They…” He gripped the wheelchair armrests tightly, his knuckles pressing against the carved wooden edges, “They’ve mistaken me for someone else.” His voice was so soft it was as if he didn’t want the charcoal fire to hear, “When I was a traveling doctor, I saw similar markings. They mistook me for…”

Before she could finish speaking, Sheng Xuan suddenly grabbed her shoulder. The force wasn't strong, but it was like an iron gate blocking out the rest of her words.

"Alright." Sheng Xuan's voice was hotter than burning coals. "If you don't want to talk about it, then don't."

As he released his grip, his fingertips accidentally brushed against the silver chain on Su Zhelan's wrist. The coolness of the lapis lazuli against his fingertips strangely suppressed his irritation. "Anyway, I won't tell anyone."

Su Zhelan was stunned for a moment, and when she looked up, she saw Sheng Xuan's profile as he turned his face away. His ears were bright red, and his neck was also flushed pink.

As the lapis lazuli swayed gently on my wrist, I suddenly felt an inexplicable warmth permeating its cool touch.

"Thank you." Su Zhelan lowered her head, her fingertips wrapping the silver chain back into her palm. "This... I like it very much, thank you."