I tugged at his clothes. He was injured and had been caught in the rain last night. He's never been this willful. What's wrong with him now?
"Your Majesty! I remonstrate with my life!" The man kowtowed heavily to the ground. "If Your Majesty does not treat him, I fear he will not even be able to save his arm! I beg Your Majesty..."
I was taken aback, staring at the imperial physician who was trembling like a leaf yet speaking with unwavering conviction. I looked at him again and softly called out, "Dongli..."
Please, please, nothing bad should happen. Please, please, nothing bad should happen.
He sighed, turned his head slightly, and gently patted my hand with his left hand: "You go first, I'll treat your injury. Don't worry, it's nothing serious, just a minor injury. You know how these people tend to make a mountain out of a molehill."
A minor injury? He said my arm couldn't be saved, so it's a minor injury? I didn't believe it, but I had to leave, afraid that if I stayed, he wouldn't treat me. He didn't want me to worry, so he couldn't see my pain.
What I didn't expect was that after I left, I didn't see him for half a month, and during that half month, trouble suddenly arose.
Fuqi's army was said to have been blessed by auspicious beasts, greatly boosting their morale and even showing signs of advancing north. The long-lost Fuxi suddenly appeared in my dream, its words fragmented and incoherent, yet each sentence urged me to leave. Even the Imperial Astronomical Bureau sent messengers to spread the word that a true dragon's aura filled the sky in the south, the celestial phenomena in the east were declining, and the north was shrouded in darkness, all signs of impending national destruction.
Needless to say, the officials of the Imperial Observatory were all executed. However, that night, when I went out to observe the sky, I inexplicably sensed something amiss in the south. I vaguely felt a dragon's aura, forcefully cleaving the north.
The Azure Dragon reigns in the east, and the Vermilion Bird is the god of the south. Could it be that a true dragon has descended to earth, directly rivaling the Vermilion Bird's majesty?
I shook my head. They're just legends; I've never believed them. What's going on now?
However, it was not a matter of whether I believed it or not.
Half a month later, I could no longer bear it and barged into his Chongyuan Hall. He was leaning on the edge of the bed with his left hand on his sword, and his right sleeve was blown up by the wind outside the door, which made him look desolate.
He looked up at me, hunched his right shoulder and moved a few inches inward, then gave a self-deprecating laugh and looked up at me again.
"Have you heard about what's happening in the south?"
I nodded; he already knew, so there was no need to ask again.
"That's just nonsense, don't worry about it."
Nonsense, why is his brow furrowed so deeply?
"I'll be leaving in a few days."
Is this something that happened in the South?
"Of all the auspicious omens in the world, I only believe in you. The gimmick of Fuqi's prolonged existence is nothing to fear."
I nodded. I believe it.
"If you were here with me..." His words trailed off abruptly. Don't imagine, don't hope, otherwise the emptiness in the end won't feel so painful.
My presence would only be a burden to him. We both understand this. The situation on the battlefield changes rapidly, and I cannot follow in his footsteps at all times.
For my own good, and for his own good.
Heaven is on his side, isn't it? Back then, weren't Fuxi, Qiuniu, and Yazi all on his side? Wasn't it a thunderbolt that resolved the crisis between him and Basiljiyu? With Heaven's help, what else could I possibly worry about?
"Take good care of yourself while I'm away. If the servants mistreat you, just bring me into it," he said with a smirk.
They're not afraid of him, so what's the point of bringing him up? Besides, while I wouldn't say I'm afraid of those servants, they don't have any close relationships with me, so why would they bother me?
"Liao Yan, come here." He raised his hand. Even though there was plenty of space on his right, he deliberately moved aside, clearing a space on his left. It felt a little off. His right arm was injured; was he worried I'd touch the wound?
I didn't say anything and sat down next to him. He slightly raised the corners of his lips and said, "Back then, you wouldn't even let anyone touch you."
Now, however, she has no qualms about sitting on the same couch as him.
"Liao Yan, I'll ask you one more time, will you be my empress?" He looked at the dragon-carved, gilded roof and said, "This is the last time."
He asked me one last time, and whether I was willing or not, he wouldn't force me. Just like before, when I hesitated, he cleared the way for me to return to the Liao residence from the palace. He let go so gracefully that no one dared to refuse.
His hand touched the flowing white hair behind me, and he said softly, "You are auspicious."
Even if he elevates me to the heavens, I understand that I am nothing more than a freak, a monster. I bring no good fortune, only chaos and end.
Being by his side was the result of all my courage and impulsiveness. I no longer have the strength to stand shoulder to shoulder with him and look down upon the world.
He glanced at me, then turned his head back to the extravagant scene, and said, "Three days from now, the army will march south. If you agree, then see me off. If you don't agree, then don't come back."
He gave me three days to consider. I don't know if it was to give him or me a gap, a glimmer of hope.
Those three days were agonizing. His servants refused to let me in, repeatedly saying he was still undergoing treatment. Only three days left—was he still receiving treatment? Had he traveled all the way back to the capital just to treat an arm? I couldn't think of a better reason, so I couldn't force him. I hid in a side hall, quietly pondering. How could I tell him without hurting both of us? Thinking back, aside from our childhood, I'd known him for almost four years, and we'd only ever spoken six words: Dongli, Dongli, Dongli. Perhaps, in three days, I'd be able to utter a complete sentence, telling him that I wanted to, but couldn't. Should I use lengthy explanations to persuade him to understand?
Feeling utterly lost, I was awakened by the sound of war drums three days later, lying on my desk. Just like the day he left for war, he was gone, and I didn't even get to see him one last time. But this time, there was no hesitation, no wavering. In that instant, my feet made the decision for me.
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