Chapter 59 You're really... sick
"Yangliuqing!"
Yan Dibai took a step forward, reaching out to check the injuries on her hips and legs, but as soon as he got close, he remembered something and withdrew his hand as if he had been electrocuted.
After a brief moment of disorientation, her vision blurred again, and flashes of white light stung her eyes. She stared intently for a moment, then, with a dazed expression, Yan Dibai crouched down in front of Qingqing.
She's not dead. I can feel her breathing.
The exposed skin on her face showed traces of blood vessels only visible upon close inspection. Yan Dibai frowned, then looked at her waist and hips. The blood had been diluted, but the lingering scent of blood could still be detected in her nostrils upon careful sniffing.
His muddled mind worked for a moment, then he lowered his eyelids.
Caning.
In this vast palace, there are only a handful of people in power. Yang Liuqing... surely he doesn't like to offend anyone?
Although there may be those who want to kick someone when they're down, they would never dare to do such a thing.
Yan Di's white hair throbbed, and he hesitated again and again. He looked away. His chapped lips bled slightly.
Yang Liuqing lay there exposed to the wind and rain for two whole days without ever noticing.
No, why should we notice?
Yan Dibai's previously complicated feelings suddenly turned into resentment.
A treacherous commoner, a… Before he could even convince himself, Qingqing on the ground stirred, letting out a series of muffled groans. It was as if the pain had surged back, unbearably intense.
The moment she spoke, Yan Dibai's eyes widened instantly, and he jerked his body backward. Then he heard Qingqing's faint, indistinct whisper, "Grandma..."
The sound was hidden within the breath. It wasn't very clear or detailed to the ear. Therefore, it was impossible to determine whether the "Grandma" was an unconscious murmur or a real call.
However, no matter how it's pronounced, it doesn't fit the language of this era.
If it's a person's name...did Yang Liuqing ever have such a person around her? Yan Dibai was slightly stifled, suddenly realizing that she didn't seem to know the girl in front of her that well.
His feelings suddenly became complicated, and he temporarily regarded it as a cry of pain.
Qingqing tried to move her limbs. However, the strength from her high fever was completely insufficient to support her movements. After rubbing her face against the bricks a few times, Qingqing slumped down the steps, her face completely pressed against the ground.
Under the clear sky, only a section of the back of the neck, burning red, remained, accompanied by wisps of black hair that shimmered and burned into Di Bai's eyes.
Silence returned. Qingqing remained calm, as if she hadn't moved at all. At the same time, her body began to burn again. The heat seemed to permeate her skin through the air, scorching her flesh.
Yan Dibai gradually became unable to sit still; the pain deep within her bones seemed to be drawn out by her appearance.
Without medicine and food, Yang Liuqing would die.
Yan Dibai looked up at the sky.
As rustling sounds came from outside the courtyard, the frail former emperor finally broke his thin, bony neck.
Clinging to the pillar, the distance of a few zhang (approximately 10 meters) seemed like thousands of miles. He trudged along the ground, each step arduous. Large drops of sweat dripped from his forehead and chest.
Yan Dibai's bare feet were covered in bloodstains. When he took the last step, he suddenly turned around, glanced at Qingqing lying on the ground, and gritted his teeth.
He gently touched the door panel and pushed it forward. It was as if he had opened the tightly locked door to his heart on his own.
After two days of silence, the old gate of the Cold Palace was suddenly pounded on. The guards nearby deliberately ignored it, determined to teach the two tough guys inside a lesson.
Unexpectedly, the girl, despite having received dozens of lashes, was still incredibly strong and started smashing things open. The door shook violently, clearly a suicide attempt.
The guard cursed incessantly, but he remembered that neither of them had eaten for two days; if they continued to starve, they would die. So he called over his companion and kicked him hard: "You're asking for it!"
The people inside were indeed intimidated and stopped smashing things. The guard kicked again and said menacingly:
"What are you doing? Don't try anything funny!"
But instead, a cold laugh came from inside: "I want to see Yan Xifang."
"Your Majesty, the deposed emperor!" The guards froze, thinking they had misheard. Suddenly, the door shook violently, and Yan Dibai's barely suppressed roar rang out: "Summon her here! Otherwise, I'll kill you all!"
The guard was startled. He realized why that timid girl had suddenly become so audacious. It was the deposed emperor! He and his companion exchanged a glance, sword in hand. Indeed, though a deposed emperor, he wasn't someone they could truly humiliate to death. The two swallowed their anger and hurried off to announce his arrival. One guard cleared his throat, forcing a confident tone, and said:
"You should rest now; things are different now than they used to be."
You could tell what kind of person they were just by their tone of voice without even opening the door. Yan Dibai's trembling hand pressed tightly against the door, and he couldn't help but think of Yang Liuqing and Wo Xue.
A fierce glint flashed in his eyes, but his tone remained calm: "What's your name?"
The guard felt a sudden, inexplicable chill. He spat at the threshold, "It's none of your business to ask!" and sat back down some distance away.
The person inside the door didn't speak this time; instead, they fell completely silent.
After the other person finished delivering the message, he found himself accompanied by a distinguished guest on his way back.
"Lady Bishu, this place is filthy. Why don't you go back first?" the guard said with a forced smile.
The princess remained unmoved after hearing his report, simply ordering her servants to fetch a bag of "immortal powder" and sending them on their way. He returned worriedly, wondering if the two of them would have to pay for their own food. Just then, he happened to run into Bi Shu, a favorite of the emperor, who promptly brought him a food box.
This matter couldn't be kept secret any longer, and within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, it reached His Majesty's ears. Everyone says that His Majesty is benevolent, and it seems that he intends to lend a helping hand to his half-brother, thus solidifying his reputation for benevolence.
Bi Shu placed the things on the threshold with a half-smile. "It's alright, my trip was just a coincidence. After delivering His Majesty, I still need to go to Lady Xue's place. Please open the door a little wider."
As he spoke, he lightly knocked on the door: "This is a small token of my Emperor's appreciation. Please accept it."
Several lines appeared on Yan Di's pale face, who had been silent all along.
Bi Shu: "Then I won't bother you any longer."
The door creaked open, the chains clanging. A small, lacquered wooden food box was carefully inserted at an angle, and in an instant, the view that had just been revealed was locked again.
As Bi Shu was about to leave, the boy inside suddenly chuckled, "How dare he disobey his elder sister! What does he think he is?"
Everyone knows that the current master of this imperial city is not the new emperor Yan Feng'an.
A surge of emotion welled up in Yan Dibai's dark eyes.
He's not afraid of openly using tricks right under Yan Xifang's nose?
Bi Shu's brows suddenly relaxed.
By speaking out, one acknowledges the favor. In any case, this deposed emperor must remember who offered him help in his time of need.
He subtly softened his tone: "His Majesty was simply showing consideration for his brotherhood. Besides, back then, Miss Yang and His Majesty were quite close in the Wende Hall, and His Majesty couldn't bear to see his old friend suffer. Even if the Princess knew, she wouldn't object."
Mentioning Qingqing, Yan Dibai's eyes narrowed, and suddenly some fragmented memories came to mind.
He had been in a daze for too long, and in a short period of time, he had almost completely buried his past. No one had mentioned it before, but this time, whether intentionally or unintentionally, a lackey by the new emperor's side brought up the almost blank impression of Yan Feng'an in his mind.
The whole story of how the former servant had transformed into his elder brother was told to him by Wo Xue while she was crying outside the door. Yan Dibai knew practically nothing about that person. Perhaps it was just a coincidence of names, or perhaps it was real. He didn't care, but when he connected it with Yang Liuqing, a quiet and handsome face, yet one that held hidden turmoil, slowly rose in his mind.
...Wende Hall.
Night, a cripple, making pancakes.
Fu'an?
Yan Dibai's eyes were crystal clear at that moment. The answer, so obvious before him, was like an arrow suddenly piercing his chest. The answer was right there, ready to be revealed.
It wasn't exactly unbelievable, but Yan Dibai still covered his forehead.
Surprisingly... they started with Yangliuqing.
Absurd. Incredulity filled his pale face. On what basis did that man believe starting with Yangliuqing would be beneficial?
The food box crashed to the ground, several plates of different kinds of cakes lying peacefully among the broken porcelain. Yan Di frowned and rummaged around a few times, and sure enough, she found a compartment in the last box.
Three porcelain bottles, each sealed with a seal from the Imperial Pharmacy, lay horizontally at the bottom.
He frowned, picked up one, and the bottle seemed to deliberately antagonize him, reflecting his bloodshot, bewildered eyes.
Yan Dibai was startled by those eyes, and the porcelain bottle in his hand shattered on the floor. The pills rolled frantically in all directions. Accompanying this was a murmur:
"Absolutely impossible."
-
"Come get your food!"
The guard's insults arrived as expected. Qingqing writhed for a moment, finally easing her discomfort, and said "Hey," wanting to get some food.
The moment she tried to wiggle her bottom, the excruciating pain taught her a harsh lesson. Qingqing groaned, then crawled to the threshold on all fours to take the chipped lacquer bowl. She didn't forget to quickly thank him.
The guard snorted and mumbled a few incoherent curses. Qingqing smiled apologetically and looked at the rice in her bowl.
?
Rice mixed with millet. Two stalks of vegetables, half a piece of meat.
Qingqing blinked hard, then sniffed carefully. Suddenly, she gasped as if she had discovered a miracle:
"It's not spoiled???"
She peeked through the crack in the door, secretly wondering—could it have been poisoned?
It shouldn't be that bad. But just in case, Qingqing decided to take a bite to test for poison. She picked up a piece of rice and chewed, and for some reason, she didn't feel very hungry. The rice wasn't particularly fragrant either.
There was a strange taste in my mouth, a mixture of bitter and sweet...
However, once she confirmed it was true, she immediately covered her bottom and got up, using the strength of her calves to move towards the inner hall.
"Your Majesty, dinner is served. The food is excellent today. Are you awake?"
Qingqing had just finished speaking happily when she paused, then belatedly remembered. Hadn't she taken a nap earlier because of a fever?
Strange, when I moved just now, I clearly felt strength in my buttocks and legs, and the sticky, wet feeling of blood had disappeared.
She pursed her lips and secretly pressed them—a scab was starting to form!
It must take at least a few days for this kind of wound to scab over, right?
Things started to go beyond what she had imagined. Qingqing assumed that she had just slept for a few days and gotten over the infection and fever, so why wasn't she hungry?
And what about Yan Dibai?
A little flustered, she immediately began banging on the door urgently. No one answered for a long time, and Qingqing grew anxious. She peeked through the crack for a while but saw no one. She was about to shout at the top of her lungs when, just as she was about to muster her strength, a thin hand reached out from under the door, grabbed the bowl without a word, and pulled it back.
"Qingqing Meng," the owner of the hand let out a displeased sneer.
"So you know you're awake now."
Qingqing blushed instantly, but thankfully a great weight was lifted from her heart. She pressed her eyes against the threshold again, and this time she saw a pair of legs crossed under her dusty gray robes.
Qingqing was a little embarrassed: "Your Majesty, I... I've been asleep for a few days? Have you eaten these past few days...?"
Yan Di struggled to chew the rice, which was so unpalatable it could cut his tongue. He frowned, his gaze darting back and forth between the eyes peeking through the crack in the door, and said coldly, "One day, I won't die even if I starve for several days."
one day……
Qingqing felt something was off, but it was just the two of them there, and Yan Dibai's voice didn't sound like he hadn't been hungry for a long time.
Let's just do it for one day.
"That's good." Her eyes lit up with relief, but she quickly remembered something else important. "Your Majesty, your medicine—"
Yan Dibai paused, glanced at the purse that had loosened its grip not far away, and a hint of disgust flashed in her eyes.
Further away were empty medicine bottles and scattered food containers. He deliberately ignored these, and instead impatiently berated the girl outside.
"What business is it of yours whether I need medicine or not? You're more annoying than an old woman." The boy said rudely, clearly not wanting to answer. Qingqing could only regretfully retreat and glance at the door that had remained closed.
"I will find a way, Your Majesty, please wait a moment."
Yan Dibai choked on the half-eaten food and suddenly threw the bowl back: "It tastes awful."
As expected, the girl coaxed and persuaded him to finish his meal. Her lively voice, neither too loud nor too soft, hovered around him, giving him a strange sense of being reborn. Yan Dibai was dazed for a moment, then suddenly turned around, tightly clutching his collar, pressing down on his pounding heart to stop it from moving erratically.
After speaking for a while without receiving a response, Qingqing continued, "Once His Majesty is better... shall we open the door? Actually, the scenery in the courtyard is quite nice. Just now, a beautiful sparrow flew by. If His Majesty could see it often, perhaps it would lift his spirits. There are earthenware jars filled with rainwater here. I'll go collect some bricks and get a tinderbox later, and then we can have a hot meal tonight..."
Having such a legitimate opportunity to prolong one's life is actually the best thing. Ancient purification techniques are inferior to those of later generations. Although Wo Xue reminded him not to stop taking the medicine, Yan Dibai has taken far fewer doses of medicine than before.
During the period of coma, any reactions that were expected must have occurred.
When Yan Xifang brings the medicine... he can gradually wean himself off the addiction. Yan Dibai's psychological trauma can also be alleviated over time.
She took a deep breath, turned her head, and squinted slightly as she stared at the azure sky.
Regardless, there is hope.
Hearing this, Yan Dibai's hand, which had been reaching for his purse without his awareness, suddenly trembled. His face tightened, and he gripped his left hand tightly with his right, preventing it from reaching for the elixir again. His mind was in turmoil, and his throat bobbed for a long time; he felt an inexplicable, irritating frustration from head to toe. Yet, this frustration was strangely not unpleasant.
Yan Dibai had been arguing with himself for a while, and suddenly it was his turn to be confused. He couldn't understand why she could speak so casually. He couldn't understand why she was clinging to him like this. Opening the door, watching the birds... he hated it all.
In his casual predictions about the future, there was absolutely no mention of Yang Liuqing.
The boy's muffled voice echoed into the courtyard from inside the door:
"Yang Liuqing, you really are..."
ill.
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