Chapter 56: Sobriety is like a piece of fragile jade
The drug took effect faster than expected.
The last thing Shen Zhiwei saw was Xiao Lingjun's restless face sleeping on the couch, and the thin morning light filtering in through the window. Then, like roots planted in the ground, his consciousness was quickly swallowed by darkness.
Boundless fatigue swept over her, dragging her into nothingness.
I don’t know how long it took.
The first thing she felt was the cold. It was so biting cold that Shen Zhiwei felt like she had been thrown naked into an ice cellar, shivering from the cold.
Then came the jolt. A regular, violent rocking, accompanied by a rhythmic, dull sound, like a mallet hitting stone.
She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy.
My throat was so dry I couldn't make a sound, and every breath was a piercing pain in my chest. The effects of the fake death drug hadn't completely worn off yet, and my body's functions were recovering so slowly that even moving a finger was a luxury.
She felt like she was wrapped in thick fur, but the cold still seeped in. Someone was holding her tightly, using their body to shield her from the cold. The embrace wasn't warm, and even a little stiff, but it was incredibly stable, preventing her from being thrown out by the violent turbulence.
A familiar scent lingered at the tip of her nose, crisp and clear, with a faint hint of metal and leather. It was a familiar scent; she'd often smelled it in the Northern Frontier military camp.
Shen Zhiwei didn't need to open her eyes to know that the person holding her was Xiao Wangqing.
This realization made her chaotic thoughts a little clearer. She really came out, left the magnificent cage, and left Xiao Lingjun's side.
Her heart felt like it was being squeezed, a dull pain. It wasn't regret, but an indescribable sense of melancholy and guilt. She remembered Xiao Lingjun's scorching warmth as he held her hand for the last time, and his unconscious mumblings in his daze.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to suppress the sour feeling.
You choose your own path, there is no turning back.
The bumpy ride lasted for an unknown amount of time. Just when Shen Zhiwei felt like she was about to fall apart, the sound of horse hooves finally slowed down. A faint voice could be heard from the surroundings, speaking in a hurried dialect from the Northern Frontier.
A corner of the fur blanket wrapped around her was lifted, and a sharp cold wind instantly rushed in, making her shiver. Someone checked her breath and found their fingertips were cold.
"General, your breathing has stabilized." A rough male voice whispered.
The man holding her hummed, his voice hoarse and tired. Xiao Wangqing adjusted his position, holding her tighter in his arms, and whispered, "Go directly back to my tent and have the military doctor wait. Move gently, don't disturb her."
"yes!"
She was carefully moved to a relatively sheltered place.
Beneath him was a solid wooden board covered with a thick felt blanket. Although it was still cold, it was much better than being on horseback.
A warm, bitter liquid was carefully fed into her mouth, and she swallowed instinctively, relieving the burning sensation in her throat slightly.
Someone wiped her cheeks, hands and feet with a warm cloth. The person holding the cloth always seemed to have lost the right position. He wiped slowly, his movements clumsy but gentle.
Shen Zhiwei suspected that he was wiping it with his eyes closed.
She could never fully open her eyes, her consciousness fluctuating between lucidity and drowsiness. She could sense someone constantly watching over her, sometimes the sound of the military doctor whispering while changing the dressings, sometimes the muffled cough of Xiao Wangqing, and sometimes just a long but reassuring silence.
It was late one night that I woke up again.
A single, dim oil lamp lit the tent, its flickering flame casting a hazy shadow across the spacious tent. She lay on a thick felt blanket, covered in layers of fur. Though she could still feel the howling wind outside, her body had warmed up and was no longer freezing.
She tried to move her fingers, and the stiffness subsided considerably. Her throat was no longer dry and sore, just a little itchy. She coughed softly, her voice hoarse and weak.
Almost immediately, the person guarding the bed moved.
Xiao Wangqing sat on a low stool beside the bed, still wearing the dark light armor he wore during the day, his shoulders wet. He seemed to have been in this position all along. When he heard the noise, he immediately leaned over and reached out to touch her forehead.
His fingertips were cool, and when they touched her warm skin, they both paused.
"Awake?" he asked.
Shen Zhiwei blinked, adjusting to the dim light, and it took a long time before she could finally see Xiao Wangqing's face clearly.
He had lost a lot of weight, his expression had become more fierce, his eyes were a dark blue, and his lips were dry and chapped. Only his eyes remained dark, and now as he looked at her, his eyes clearly reflected her haggard shadow.
"Hmm." She uttered a single sound and tried to sit up with her arms, but her shoulders and neck felt numb and she fell back.
Xiao Wangqing reached out to support her shoulders and placed two soft pillows behind her so she could sit up. He was very careful, avoiding any areas where she might be uncomfortable. After doing all this, he turned and fetched a bowl of warm water from the small table nearby, offering it to her lips.
Shen Zhiwei took small sips from his hand. The water was just the right temperature, soothing her dry throat. She drank slowly, while Xiao Wangqing patiently held the bowl, motionless.
After drinking the water, he put down the bowl and looked at her silently again, as if to confirm whether she was really awake and whether she was feeling unwell.
"Is this... His Highness's military tent?" Shen Zhiwei rubbed his dizzy forehead and finally found his voice.
"Well," Xiao Wangqing stood up and gathered the blanket around her more tightly, "Miss Chen has been in a coma for three days."
Three days... From the capital to the northern border, even if one galloped, it would take half a month. He actually brought her out in just three days? The hardships and risks involved can be imagined.
Shen Zhiwei lowered her eyelashes and looked at her hand on the fur. Her fingertips were a little out of control due to weakness, and they trembled on it: "How is he...?"
She didn't say who he was, but she and Xiao Wangqing knew it well.
"Royal brother..." Xiao Wangqing was silent for a moment, then spoke carefully, "He has been ill for several days, with recurring high fevers. The Imperial Medical Bureau stayed with him for three days before he was able to stabilize his condition."
Shen Zhiwei bit her lip. The dosage she'd given him was clearly calculated; it would only cause him to become temporarily drowsy and weak, but not to the point where a high fever would recur and the Imperial Medical Bureau would need to be on standby. Unless...he was already exhausted.
"And now?" she demanded.
"He's able to get up, but he's not in good spirits. The affairs of state will be handled by several elders for the time being," Xiao Wangqing raised his eyes. "The palace has only said that he's ill from overwork and needs to rest. As for Miss Chen... there's no news."
No news.
This means that Xiao Lingjun chose to cover it up. He may have guessed it, or maybe not, but he did not make her disappearance or death public.
This was not in line with his usual style. Shen Zhiwei could imagine his rage and madness when he woke up and found she was gone, but he suppressed it. Was it because his illness couldn't bear it, or...some other considerations?
She closed her eyes, her fingertips clutching the fur beneath her. Outside, the wind howled, carrying sand against the tent with a fine rustling sound. The sound was strange yet real, reminding her that she was no longer in that cage of carved beams and painted buildings.
"How are you feeling?" Xiao Wangqing's voice interrupted her thoughts. He poured a bowl of warm water and handed it to her. This time, instead of feeding her directly, he placed the bowl on the small table beside her. "The military doctor said the medicine is very strong. Although I used a mild prescription to neutralize it, it has damaged my vitality. I need to slowly recuperate."
Shen Zhiwei reached for the bowl, her fingers still trembling, and her teeth ached from knocking against the edge. She slowly took a few sips, the warm water flowing down her throat, and exhaled slowly. "I'm fine," she put down the bowl, stretched her wrists, and smiled at him. "I just don't feel strong at all."
"I've been unconscious for three days without a drop of water, so I'm naturally weak." Xiao Wangqing sat down again, standing not too far away, just enough to see the subtle changes on her face. "What would you like to eat? There's minced meat porridge warming on the stove."
Minced meat porridge. In the palace, she usually ate delicate snacks and soups in the mornings. It had been a long time since she had eaten such a coarse food. She nodded, "Thank you, Your Highness."
Xiao Wangqing stood up and walked to the tent door, whispering an order outside. Soon, a personal guard came in carrying a coarse earthenware bowl filled with steaming, thick meat porridge, the aroma wafting in. The guard put down the bowl and retreated without looking away.
Xiao Wangqing brought the bowl to her and handed her a wooden spoon. Shen Zhiwei took the spoon and scooped a spoonful into her mouth. The porridge was perfectly cooked, the minced meat mixed with the aroma of rice. The taste was simple, but it soothed her stomach, which had been empty for a long time.
She ate very slowly, and the bowl of porridge was almost empty. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and her strength returned a little, but was followed by a deeper fatigue, and she felt sore in the joints of her bones.
Shen Zhiwei leaned against the soft pillow, her eyes slightly closed, but she was not sleepy. She could feel Xiao Wangqing's gaze on her, not urgent, but more like a silent confirmation, confirming that she was really here, really awake.
She opened her eyes and met his dark eyes.
He sat on a low stool, his back straight, a habit etched into his bones by years of marching. Even in his relaxed state, he showed no sign of slackness. The dark stain on his shoulder hadn't dried yet, probably from the night dew or frost when he went out to give orders.
"Your Highness, have you been guarding here all this time?" She thought for a moment and asked. Her voice was much smoother than before, but still hoarse from recovering from a long illness.
Xiao Wangqing was caught off guard by being called out, and his whole body stiffened for a moment. Then he replied, "I'll come over to see you after I finish my military affairs."
He said it lightly, but Shen Zhiwei looked at the dark circles under his eyes and the blue stubble on his chin and knew that it was more than just a look.
Three days, the three days she was in a coma. He had to arrange the follow-up of evacuating the capital, stabilize the morale of the northern border army, and also had to divide his attention to guard her, a dead person.
"Thank you for your hard work, Your Highness." She chuckled.
Xiao Wangqing shook his head and didn't respond, turning his gaze to her hand on the fur.
Shen Zhiwei's fingers were slender, and the fingertips were completely bloodless. They rested quietly on the dark fur, like a piece of fragile jade.
That piece of cold white jade was flawless and was fought over by thousands of people.
Finally, it slowly approached and landed on his brow.
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