Chapter Twenty-One: Night Watch
Time slipped away silently in the haze of illness, and it was already the afternoon of the next day. Huairou slept in a daze for a day and a night, occasionally being fed some water and thin porridge. Her consciousness constantly hovered on the edge of reality and dreams. Those nightmares about loss, separation, and searching were like endless whirlpools, dragging her into the bottomless darkness time and time again.
"Huairou, what's wrong with you...?"
Just as she was struggling in her nightmare once again, almost overwhelmed by the heavy sorrow, a voice, like moonlight piercing through thick fog, clearly entered her ears. The voice was deep, carrying a melancholy and steadiness like a secluded orchid in a valley. It was not urgent, but possessed a strange soothing power, providing a focal point for her chaotic thoughts.
As if the nightmare had suddenly found an exit, her eyes finally connected with the breath of real life, and she struggled to lift her heavy eyelids.
Her blurry vision gradually focused, revealing a man's face with sharp features and a gentle expression. Thick, dark eyebrows, a high-bridged nose, and deep, calm eyes were fixed on her, filled with concern and inquiry. This face… she was somewhat dazed. Was it the "court official" she had seen by chance in the Guanghe Hall?
As consciousness returned, she found herself still lying on the chaise longue in the Guanghe Palace, covered with a soft brocade quilt. She wanted to sit up, to say something in accordance with the etiquette of this dynasty, such as greetings or thanks, but her mind was blank, and she didn't even know how to address the other person. In her confusion, she leaned against the soft pillows, her voice slightly hoarse from long illness, carrying a hint of uncertain timidity, and softly asked, "This humble girl... this humble girl is Huairou, and does not yet know your name... May I ask who you are?"
Seeing her awake, a faint, almost imperceptible relaxation flickered in the man's eyes. He didn't answer immediately, but instead reached out and naturally and steadily supported her shoulder, adjusting the headrest to make her more comfortable in a semi-reclined position. His movements were devoid of any intimacy, only a perfectly balanced support. After doing all this, he spoke slowly and calmly, his voice steady: "I am a relative of Yunji, my courtesy name is Jiancheng. You can call me Jiancheng."
Jiancheng… Huairou silently repeated the name in her heart. Yunji's uncle? She immediately realized, so he was a member of the imperial family. As the daughter of a subject, she should pay her respects no matter what. This thought drove her to try to get out of bed. “This humble girl has been impolite, I don’t know why…” But her illness prevented her from doing so. She got up too quickly, and a strong wave of dizziness suddenly hit her. Her vision went black, and her body slumped forward uncontrollably.
The expected bump did not occur. A strong arm promptly and steadily embraced her shoulder and back, gently bringing her limp body back to a seat on the bed. The movement was so natural and swift, carrying an undeniable sense of protection, and the instant closeness allowed Huairou to even smell the crisp, faint scent of bergamot on his clothes.
The overly natural and intimate gestures made Huairou feel awkward. She passively complied, but the image of the embrace from her nightmare—the one that pulled her from the abyss and brought her safety—involuntarily surfaced in her mind. That feeling was strangely similar to the arm holding her now. This realization inexplicably calmed her chaotic thoughts, as if she had found some kind of support.
Her face was close to his, fragile from illness, yet radiating a unique gentleness from the sudden, fleeting peace born of a dream. Emperor Zhen Jiancheng's gaze lingered on her face for a second before he naturally released her hand, as if his earlier support had been merely an instinctive reaction. He then carefully tucked her back in with the blankets that had slipped off, gave a few instructions to the servants, and left.
The once silent Guanghe Hall seemed to be infused with life. The hall was suddenly bustling with people, brightly lit, and filled with the sound of hurried footsteps. Servants carried warm water, medicine cups, clean cloths, and other items, moving in and out quietly and orderly, a stark contrast to the previous desolation.
When she awoke again, the surroundings were already the stillness of late night. Only a palace lantern remained lit in one corner of the hall, casting a soft, dim glow. Huairou groggily opened her eyes and vaguely saw a tall figure standing at a desk not far away. The candlelight cast a soft glow on his profile as he focused intently on his work, sometimes frowning, sometimes writing furiously. The hall was so quiet that only the soft crackling of the lamp wick and the rustling of turning pages could be heard. This scene resembled that of an ordinary husband reading late into the night, tending to a seriously ill family member. A strange sense of peace enveloped Huairou. She remained silent, subconsciously wanting to see more clearly, but her heavy eyelids and the renewed wave of drowsiness were irresistible, and she uncontrollably drifted back into a deep sleep. What she didn't know was that after her breathing became even and deep, that focused gaze had moved from the memorials and lingered on her face for a long time.
Around noon, a strong feeling of hunger finally roused Huairou from her long slumber. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting bright spots of light into the hall. She opened her eyes and felt that although her body was still weak, the burning fever had subsided, and her mind was much clearer.
She turned her gaze and found a stranger standing beside her, a servant with a respectful demeanor. His clothes were neither those of the Guanghe Palace nor those of her own familiar servants. The figure she had vaguely seen last night, bent over his desk, was nowhere to be seen, as if it had truly been just a dream she had conjured up in her delirium during her illness.
"Miss, you're awake." The servant stepped forward immediately when he saw her open her eyes, his voice gentle. "The medicinal food and snacks have been prepared. Please have some."
Huairou was indeed hungry, and without thinking too much about the servant's background, she drank a bowl of warm medicinal soup in one gulp under his service, and ate a few light and easily digestible snacks. Her empty stomach finally felt satisfied. After filling her stomach, her first thought, which restored some of her energy, was: return home. Staying in the palace would be against etiquette and could easily cause trouble.
However, upon inquiry, she learned that after her personal maid, Caihe, returned to the manor to report the news, the people sent by the Guo family were temporarily kept outside the palace by the palace servants on the grounds that "Miss Huairou is recuperating and is being cared for by imperial physicians in the palace. She will be sent back once she is better." Currently, she was left alone and unable to leave immediately.
Left with no other choice, Huairou had to continue recuperating at Guanghe Palace. The care there was meticulous; medicine, meals, and hot water were always delivered on time, at the perfect temperature, and mostly light and nourishing—clearly, the care was genuine. Huairou thought to herself that this was probably all thanks to Yunji's uncle, "Jiancheng," who had taken good care of her. A sense of gratitude welled up within her.
He came to see her again at dusk. The hall was dimly lit then, and he, dressed in casual clothes, possessed striking features and an innate air of heroism and authority. Yet, when inquiring about her illness and giving instructions to the servants, his tone remained consistently refined, gentle, and extremely composed, inspiring a sense of trust and reassurance. He didn't linger; after sitting for a short while, asking how she was feeling, he rose and left.
Occasionally, Huairou could hear the hushed voices of people reporting matters in the corridor outside the palace, as if officials had come to consult him. At such times, he would always move to Yunji's study to handle the matter, never bringing officials from outside the palace into the inner hall, and never allowing the clamor of court affairs to disturb her peace and quiet. Huairou, naturally, would never disturb him, but would simply stay quietly indoors, listening to the faint, hushed conversations outside, feeling that this originally empty palace, because of his presence, had gained a few more indescribable, calm vitality.
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