Chapter 5

At the beginning of the Xu hour, Su Yan was pouring the last packet of medicinal powder into the white jade pool. The dark brown liquid swirld in the hot water, steaming up a white mist mixed with mugwort and sulfur.

Su Yan had been staying by the bedside for several days in a row, and even his hair smelled of herbs.

“The water temperature is right,” Su Yan tested the surface of the pool with his hand, then turned to Xiao Qiyun and said, “This medicine can suppress the Gu poison for two hours. You must apply the medicine again before midnight.” He went on and on about the precautions, from the cotton balls to change the medicine to the heat for brewing it.

Gu Linzhao laughed helplessly and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind: "I know, if you don't leave now, you'll turn into medicine residue."

Su Yan tried to break free, but Gu Linzhao held him even tighter. Gu Linzhao's palm covered his lower back, with an undeniable force: "Sheng Chi just sent someone to deliver some newly arrived Xueya tea. If you don't drink it soon, it will get cold."

He lowered his head, his nose brushing against Su Yan's head. "If you collapse from exhaustion, who will change Zhe Lan's dressing?"

These words hit the nail on the head. Su Yan sighed and put down the medicine spoon. Before leaving, he touched Su Zhelan's forehead again: "If you need anything, have Xiao Qiyun call me. Don't be stubborn."

As the curtain fell, Gu Linzhao turned back and winked at Xiao Qiyun, a gentle smile playing on his lips—this was his usual trick to coax Su Yan to rest, using medical knowledge as bait, mixed with a touch of barely perceptible concern.

The footsteps outside the screen faded into the distance. Xiao Qiyun helped Su Zhelan slide slowly into the water along the edge of the pool, and casually took a plain-colored thin blanket and draped it over Su Zhelan's bare shoulders.

As the scalding hot medicinal soup reached over his shoulders, a warm sensation surged up, and the stinging pain in his right leg was indeed relieved somewhat. However, the back of his neck, where the Gu poison lurked, still felt burning hot.

Su Zhelan closed his eyes, seemingly relaxed, but Xiao Qiyun's hand supporting his waist was just the right amount of force to make him "powerless to struggle," and both of them were testing the boundaries.

He closed his eyes and listened to the bubbling sound of the steam rising.

"Is the water temperature suitable?" Xiao Qiyun's voice came. "The master said this medicine needs to be soaked for a full hour, so don't push yourself."

Su Zhelan hummed in agreement, then lowered his chin to the water's surface. The medicinal soup stung his left eye, making the pterygium ache. In the hazy light, he heard Xiao Qiyun's footsteps suddenly stop, followed by the soft rustling of his clothes.

"I'll go get a dry towel so you don't catch a cold after your bath." As he turned around, Xiao Qiyun's gaze swept over the gauze on the back of Su Zhelan's neck, a hint of inquiry flashing in his eyes.

This was the third time Sheng Xuan had "passed by" Shuyu Courtyard tonight. He hid behind the artificial hill on the east side of the courtyard, watching Xiao Qiyun enter the warm pavilion, before crouching down and moving to the Taihu stone by the hot spring pool.

With his ear pressed against the cold stone wall, listening to the faint sound of water in the pool, the restlessness in his heart felt like it was on fire—why did Xiao Qiyun have the right to accompany him to take a bath alone?

Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the bamboo screen, and he could vaguely see a pale figure swaying in the white mist rising behind it. His heart tightened, and he forgot his usual arrogance, creating a gust of wind as he walked around the bamboo screen.

Just then, Su Zhelan, her vision blurring, instinctively reached for the edge of the pool with her left hand, only to grasp a warm wrist. Thinking it was Xiao Qiyun returning from getting a towel, she said hoarsely, "Help me..."

Caught off guard by the sudden tug, Sheng Xuan, who was already standing on the slippery blue bricks, suddenly leaned forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the jade edge behind Su Zhelan—if Su Zhelan pressed down on it, the unhealed knife wound would definitely break open!

In a flash, Sheng Xuan twisted his body and slammed his back against the pool wall, pulling Su Zhelan into his arms at the same time.

With a loud splash, the two tumbled into the hot spring. The scalding medicinal water splashed three feet high, and their clothes became tangled in the water.

Su Zhelan coughed, her left eye suddenly widening, revealing Sheng Xuan's magnified face behind her pterygium.

The moment their eyes met, Shengxuan's lips brushed against his, the warm touch like a thunderclap, and both of them froze.

The medicinal soup was bubbling and steaming, and Sheng Xuan could clearly feel the body of the person in his arms—the soaked nightgown clung tightly to the skeleton, the waistline was incredibly thin, and wet hair slid down the back, dripping into the hollow of his collarbone.

Su Zhelan's fingers were still gripping his clothes, the strength carrying an unmistakable dependence that made him shudder and forget to break free.

His navy blue clothes were soaked and clung to his chest, and he could feel the unconscious grip of Su Zhelan's fingertips on his inner lining.

Su Zhelan was also stunned, the scent of soapberry lingering around Sheng Xuan's body, mixed with the sulfurous smell of the medicinal soup.

He deliberately slowed his struggling movements, his left eye fixed on Shengxuan's reddened earlobe—this reaction was more interesting than expected.

"What are you doing?!" Xiao Qiyun's voice boomed with shock and anger. He rushed in carrying a snow fox fur bath towel and saw Sheng Xuan half-embracing Su Zhelan. Amidst the swirling steam, Sheng Xuan's ears were so red they looked like they could bleed.

The shock and anger in his eyes concealed the rage of his invaded territory, yet he disguised it all with a facade of "concern."

Sheng Xuan released his grip as if electrocuted, staggering back to the edge of the pool. His silver armor, soaked with water, felt exceptionally heavy. "I...he pulled me!" His words of explanation caught in his throat when he saw the water droplets on Su Zhelan's pale cheeks—the droplets slid down his jawline, disappearing into his soaked collar, outlining the boy's slender neck. His throat tightened, and he found this disheveled appearance even more alluring than his usual frail demeanor.

Xiao Qiyun quickly wrapped Su Zhelan in the snow fox fur coat and picked him up horizontally. As he did so, he deliberately pressed his fingertips against the scar on the back of Su Zhelan's neck. He felt the boy's body tense up instantly, and a hint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes—this was the reaction he should have, vulnerable yet wary.

Then he growled at Sheng Xuan, "What are you going to do!?"

In the dead of night, the lights in Shuyu Courtyard were still on. Su Zhelan, wrapped in a quilt, huddled on the couch. The fresh ointment on the back of her neck felt cool, but it couldn't suppress the panic in her heart.

He repeatedly stroked the hem of his clothes, Sheng Xuan's recklessness and Xiao Qiyun's sinister nature battling in his mind—both of them had indeed taken him to heart.

"Does the wound still hurt?" Xiao Qiyun brought the warmed medicine to his lips, his movements carrying an undeniable force. His fingertips deliberately brushed against Su Zhelan's lips, as if stamping them.

Just as Su Zhelan was about to shake her head, the curtain was suddenly lifted from the outside. Sheng Xuan stood at the door wrapped in a dry cloak, his hair still dripping with water, and the hem of his dark blue casual clothes was stained with mud.

The moment their eyes met, the air in the room seemed to freeze. Sheng Xuan looked at Su Zhelan, who was wrapped up like a cocoon on the bed, and the words he wanted to say suddenly stuck in his throat.

This reminded him of the sensation in the hot spring—it turned out that Su Zhelan's skin was hotter than he had imagined.

Xiao Qiyun put down the medicine bowl and stood up, intentionally or unintentionally blocking the way in front of the bed, his tone indifferent: "Does the Second Young Master have something to say?"

"I..." Sheng Xuan gripped the cloak tie tightly, his gaze bypassing Xiao Qiyun and landing on Su Zhelan's pale lower lip. "Just now...did you fall?"

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth—his concern was too obvious, but seeing the bandage on Su Zhelan's shoulder bleeding, he couldn't help but ask.

Su Zhelan's heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively gripped the corner of the blanket. He could feel Sheng Xuan's gaze on his shoulder, where the bandages had bled faintly from the impact of falling into the water. "...It's nothing serious."

He turned his head away, "With His Highness and Master here, I'm sorry to trouble you, Second Young Master." He deliberately emphasized "His Highness," as if to provoke Sheng Xuan's anger, or perhaps to offer Xiao Qiyun a sweet treat.

Upon hearing this, Xiao Qiyun unconsciously tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, and the smile on his lips finally spread out a little, though it was so quick it seemed like an illusion, yet it carried a hint of barely perceptible smugness.

He reached out and tucked the fallen corner of the blanket around Su Zhelan, gently pinching her neck with his fingertips as if asserting his dominance. His gaze swept over Sheng Xuan's mud-stained clothes, and he suddenly spoke: "It is indeed late, past 7 PM."

His voice was clear and gentle as ever, but he seemed to intentionally or unintentionally rub the words "I'm here" repeatedly along the edge of the brocade quilt with his fingertips before raising his eyes to look at Sheng Xuan.

"The second young master is soaked to the bone. If he catches a chill, I'm afraid we'll have to trouble Mr. Su to prepare another dose of medicine." These words sounded concerned, but the last syllable of his voice carried a hidden sharpness, like a needle hidden in spring rain, gentle yet thorny.

Su Zhelan's fingers, gripping the sheet, paused. He could feel Xiao Qiyun's palm tighten slightly on his shoulder. He quickly reached out from under the covers, his fingertips twisting the edge of the sheet.

"It's getting late, Young Master Sheng, you should rest early." The voice was even softer than before, like a feather gently separating the invisible tension between the two.

This attempt to "mediate" only intensified the tension.

Sheng Xuan gripped the cloak's strap so tightly his knuckles turned white, his Adam's apple bobbed heavily, and he cursed "hypocrisy" in his heart, but his feet felt like they were nailed to the ground—he couldn't bear to leave.

A night breeze, carrying the scent of medicine, seeped through the cracks in the door, chilling Sheng Xuan's soaked trousers against his legs. He heard his own voice caught in his throat, turning into a muffled "hmm."

She shuffled her toes across the threshold, then awkwardly tossed out, "...It's alright, I'll head back now."

She turned around, took three steps, and then suddenly stopped, her back to the two people inside the house. Her fingers rubbed back and forth on the cloak's straps—the same spot Su Zhelan had gripped by the hot spring pool earlier.

The touch felt like a red-hot branding iron, making his heart race, yet he couldn't bear to wipe it off.

"Second Young Master?" Xiao Qiyun asked, his voice deliberately gentle. "Is there anything else?"

Sheng Xuan didn't turn around, only squeezing out two words through gritted teeth: "It's nothing." The soles of her boots made a soft, grinding sound on the bluestone slabs. It wasn't until she turned the corner of the covered walkway that she realized her palms, which were clutching the cloak, were drenched in sweat.

The candlelight inside the room crackled and popped, creating a flickering flame.

Xiao Qiyun gazed at the lingering shadow of the swaying curtain, then suddenly turned and picked up the medicine bowl from the table as if remembering something. The warm porcelain pressed against his palm, the medicine gleaming with a deep brown luster in the lamplight, the rising steam carrying the sweet fragrance of mimosa flowers.

"Take your medicine and go to bed early." He walked to the bedside and handed the soup bowl to Su Zhelan's lips.

Su Zhelan subconsciously pursed his lips. A faint light flickered behind the pterygium of his left eye. He obediently took the rim of the bowl into his mouth, and the warm medicine slid down his throat. But when he touched the temperature of Xiao Qiyun's fingertips, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

“Mr. Ming said he would give you acupuncture.” Xiao Qiyun withdrew his hand. “The needle sensation will be a little numb and swollen, so don’t move around too much.”

As he watched Su Zhelan lower her head to drink her medicine, he rubbed his palm with his fingertips—there seemed to still be the soft, warm touch of her slender waist under her damp, moon-white clothes when he had just lifted her up in his arms.

The touch made his possessiveness almost overflow – Su Zhelan should be like this, only able to be held by him, only able to depend on him.

Although Su Zhelan was wrapped in a snow fox fur coat, when he bent down to hug him, his palms could still touch the boy's waist frame through the water-soaked fabric, lighter than the mugwort drying by the medicine stove.

As he ran his fingertips along the lines of his palm, he could almost feel the force with which Su Zhelan instinctively gripped his clothes. The force was light, yet it stirred a subtle ripple in his heart.

As Su Zhelan handed the empty bowl back, her fingertips touched Xiao Qiyun's palm. He quickly withdrew his hand, buried his face in the pillow, and muffled his voice: "I know."

In the lamplight, Xiao Qiyun extinguished the candle by his bedside, leaving only the light from the lanterns in the corridor shining through the window and casting dappled floral shadows on the couch.

As he reached the door, he heard very soft breathing behind him. Xiao Qiyun couldn't help but smirk, but before stepping over the threshold, he suppressed that smug smile, leaving only an empty medicine bowl gradually cooling in the room filled with the aroma of herbs.

In the guest room in the front yard, Sheng Xuan irritably pulled at his soaked inner lining.

The smell of medicine on his clothes wouldn't go away, and the scent of mugwort from Su Zhelan lingered in his nostrils, along with the soft touch of their lips.

He kicked away the basin of water beside him, splashing water that soaked his trousers. He cursed inwardly, "He's gone mad," but he kept replaying the image of the boy burying his face in Xiao Qiyun's arms, unable to look at him, when Xiao Qiyun carried Su Zhelan away. He felt a strange tightness in his chest.

The candlelight crackled and popped, making his fingers, which were gripping the inner lining, turn white.

He abruptly sat down at the table, his fingertips unconsciously brushing against the corner of his lips—where the warmth of Su Zhelan's lips seemed to still linger.

The moment he fell into the hot spring during the day kept replaying in his mind: Su Zhelan's wide-open left eye reflected his face, water droplets condensed on his eyelashes, the steam from the medicinal soup carrying the scent of mugwort on his body, crashing into his nostrils without warning.

"Damn it..." Sheng Xuan cursed under his breath, grabbed the water jug ​​on the table and poured it on his face, but the icy well water couldn't cool down his burning ears.

When she turned around, Su Zhelan's extremely soft "Thank you, Second Young Master" sounded distant in her voice, like a fine thorn that pricked her heart and made her itch.

But when Su Zhelan grabbed his wrist when they fell into the water, there was a clear sense of dependence in her grip.

The night wind rustled through the window paper, and he recalled Su Zhelan's face covered in mud and blood when they first met, her lips smeared with sugar frosting when he fed her medicine, and her wet nightgown clinging to her waistline in the hot spring... All these images mixed together, making his heart pound like a drum.

He suddenly stood up, but bumped into the stool, knocking it to the ground and startling the moths perched on the beam.

"What's the panic!" Sheng Xuan growled at the empty room, but when he caught a glimpse of his reddened ear tips in the bronze mirror, he hurriedly looked away.

Looking at the crumpled oil paper package on the table, he recalled the sticky feeling on his fingertips when he fed Meizi that day—it was just the prelude to this chaos. For the first time, he realized so clearly—he seemed to have really messed up.

The shadows of the trees outside the window swayed on the window paper. Sheng Xuan recalled the gentle look in Xiao Qiyun's eyes when he tucked Su Zhelan in, and the undeniable force with which Xiao Qiyun carried Su Zhelan away. The inexplicable emotions in her heart were like a stone thrown into a deep pool, rippling out in circles of panic.

He didn't understand what this meant, and he wasn't in the mood to think about it.