When Song Ting woke up again, she was already in her own room, and five days had passed.
"Sir, you're finally awake! You scared me to death..."
With red eyes, Xiao Wu knelt beside his bed and mustered her courage to say, "How could you jump off a cliff? It was so dangerous..."
Qi Zhou was also standing nearby. Although he didn't cry like Xiao Wu, his eyes were also slightly red.
"It's alright, I won't die," Song Ting said nonchalantly, knowing they were worried about her.
He didn't jump down on impulse; he actually wanted to follow the route Chu Huaixu took to fall and try to find some clues.
Song Ting was confident in his skills. Jumping off such a cliff, he would at most suffer some internal injuries, but he wouldn't die.
And even if he dies, it doesn't matter. Because if he dies too, then Huaixu is most likely in grave danger.
If Huaixu dies, then there is no point in him living.
He didn't know when it started, but the meaning of his life had become Huaixu, rather than himself.
However, Song Ting forgot that he was already seriously injured. After all this, his internal injuries were far more severe than he had thought.
On the way back, he vomited blood several more times, and at one point his breathing was so weak that he was almost undetectable. Even the doctors were at a loss.
It was only then that Xiao Wu and the others realized just how bad his health had actually become. The fact that he had been behaving so well these past few days was just him forcing himself and putting on a brave face.
But he was too ruthless to himself, and almost fooled everyone.
"My lord, is the person you are looking for the young master of the Duan Prince's mansion?"
"Did you ask me to impersonate you and stay in the capital before, also for his sake?" Xiao Wu asked.
Song Ting, who had been leaning against the bed with a blank expression, suddenly changed her expression upon hearing this, clenching her fists and staring into Xiao Wu's eyes to warn him:
"This matter must not be mentioned to anyone."
The voice was extremely cold.
Although Song Ting was ruthless, he had always treated his subordinates well, especially Xiao Wu, with whom he had shared life-and-death experiences.
She never even said anything harsh to him.
Upon seeing him like this, Xiao Wu was utterly terrified and stammered, "Yes, yes, I understand..."
It was at this moment that Xiao Wu truly realized that the person in front of him was no longer just an ordinary bodyguard who had shared life and death with him.
Instead, he was the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, a position second only to the emperor.
They already have a hierarchy. In front of this person, he must "know his place," carefully weighing what to say and what not to say.
Otherwise, it would be taboo and would annoy people.
"Go ahead." While Xiao Wu was thinking about these things, Song Ting had already let go of his hand and leaned back weakly.
Xiao Wu: "This subordinate takes his leave. Your Excellency, please get some rest."
Only when Song Ting was alone in the room did he belatedly realize that he was clutching a tattered strip of cloth in his right hand.
It was gripped so tightly that it almost squeezed his fingers, causing both fingers to swell and lose sensation.
But he still couldn't bear to let go.
“Young Master…” Song Ting lowered his head and kissed the strip of cloth in his hand, instantly soaking the entire piece of cloth.
Song Ting paused briefly, then raised her hand to touch her face, only to realize that tears had unknowingly streamed down her cheeks.
The puppy, having lost its master, could no longer hold back and buried its face in the blanket, whimpering and crying bitterly.
At this moment, Song Ting felt that although he had safely returned from the cliff, his soul seemed to be falling endlessly.
This piece of cloth was his only lifeline, barely managing to pull his soul upwards.
Chu Huaixu's clothes were all provided by him; the young master, being of noble birth, had always worn and used the best clothes since childhood.
The Jiangnan brocades sent to the palace were all chosen by him first, and the rest were then sent to the ladies of the various palaces.
So even though they were fleeing, Song Ting couldn't bear to let him wear coarse linen clothes, and only picked out plain-colored brocade to make clothes for him.
The fabric looked ordinary, but it was actually soft and light as a cloud. It was a tribute from a small foreign country. There were only six pieces in the entire Dayan Imperial Palace, and the young emperor bestowed them all upon Song Ting.
He took the precious fabric that even the Empress Dowager didn't have and personally sewed several sets of clothes for Chu Huaixu.
Having been accustomed to wielding swords, the first time he picked up an embroidery needle, his stitches were crooked and rough, truly ruining the fine fabric so much that no one could recognize it.
Now it has become the only tiny bit of hope he can hold onto.
When Song Ting fell off the cliff, he noticed a pine tree growing horizontally not far from the bottom of the cliff, and the piece of cloth was hanging on its branch.
Therefore, Chu Huaixu must still be alive.
The tree acted as a buffer; Chu Huaixu might have been caught by the pine tree, suffered some injury, and then hidden somewhere.
He would never believe a man was dead unless he saw the body with his own eyes.
Song Ting thought to himself, he regretted it. He shouldn't have wanted to put that person in a safe place. Nowhere was safe except by his side.
He should build a golden cage and hide Chu Huaixu inside, keeping him hidden for a lifetime.
That way, no foolish person will dare to covet him or harm him.
He would shield him from all danger.
Anyone who wants to harm him or has designs on him deserves to die.
He will never let Chu Huaixu leave again.
With this thought in mind, Song Ting gradually recovered.
He still did not give up searching for Chu Huaixu, searching year after year, but that person seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving no trace.
"I couldn't find you for a long time, and then I wondered if I was just being delusional."
"That's such a high mountain, and your martial arts have been crippled. Even with that tree as a buffer, it would be difficult for you to survive, after all..."
After all, even he was seriously injured at the time and was unconscious for five whole days. How could Chu Huaixu, whose martial arts were completely destroyed, possibly survive?
How could he conclude that the person was still alive based on just a piece of cloth?
Maybe it was just caught on a branch when it fell, but it still fell.
It's nothing but self-deception and comfort; it's nothing but an inability to accept reality.
In the dead of night, he was not afraid of vengeful ghosts coming to claim his life, but he was terrified of dreaming about Chu Huaixu.
Because in those dreams, Song Ting always stood on the edge of a cliff, watching helplessly as the man jumped off in front of her, unable to stop him.
Each time, all that was pulled was that one piece of fabric.
The man looked disheveled, covered in wounds, and his eyes were filled with disgust and hatred as he looked at him.
"Song Ting, the thing I regret most is bringing you back to the Prince's mansion."
"I only wish my soul would be scattered and I would never meet you again in any future life."
"Song Ting, you'll go to hell."
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