Chapter 22: Injured Nightmare, Cold and Tender
The candle in the side room was only a tiny glimmer of light left, its bean-sized flame swaying in the wind, stretching Yunzhi's shadow thin and long. She curled up on the hard bed, covered by the lightly covered quilt. The cold sweat on her forehead soaked the pillowcase. Her face was as pale as paper, her lips were chapped, and every breath was a rapid gasp. The fever had not only not subsided, but had intensified.
"Mother... don't leave me..." She closed her eyes, frowned tightly, and muttered unconsciously, her voice as thin as a mosquito, "Stop hitting me... it hurts..."
The nightmare was like an impenetrable net, trapping her. The dream depicted the day the Imperial Tutor's mansion was ransacked. Flames shot up into the sky, the flashes of soldiers' swords reflected on her mother's face as she stood before her, blood streaming down her skirt. Then, suddenly, the dream shifted to the snowy ground of the Prince's mansion, where she knelt on the cold ground. Xiao Jin's figure flashed by the window, the sharp pain of the whip still lingering on her back. Finally, it depicted the bowl of pitch-black sterilizing soup on their wedding night, the bitter taste of the medicine swirling on their tongues, and Xiao Jin's voice, icy and piercing: "You are not worthy of bearing my heir..."
"No!" Yun Zhi twitched violently, her hands flailing in the air, as if trying to grab something to save her life, but in the end she just clenched the bed sheet beneath her, her knuckles turning white.
The rain outside the window had not stopped yet. The sound of the rain mixed with her mumbling seemed particularly desolate in the empty side room.
At this moment, in the study, Xiao Jin sat behind his desk, the file on Shen Qingyue's old case spread out before him, but he didn't read a single word. He kept flashing back to Yun Zhi being dragged away in the rain, the red marks on her wrists from being pinched, and her last desperate words, "What else can you do to me besides violence and suspicion?"
"Damn it!" He slammed his pen down on the file, ink splattering all over the floor. His irritation grew like wild weeds. He told himself she was just a slave, just a substitute. What did her life or death have to do with him? But the thought that she might still be feverish and shivering in the side room made him unable to sit still.
"Someone come here." Xiao Jin shouted to the outside of the door.
The guard came in immediately: "What do you want, Your Majesty?"
"Go check on Yunzhi," he paused, then added, "to see if her fever has subsided and if she's taking her medicine on time."
"Yes." The guard replied and left. Not long after, he returned to report, "Your Highness, Concubine Yun's fever hasn't subsided yet. She keeps mumbling and looks very painful. The secret guards outside the door said she had several convulsions during the night."
Xiao Jin's heart suddenly tightened, and he nearly dropped the teacup in his hand. He stood up and subconsciously walked towards the side room. He took two steps and stopped. Why should he care about that woman? She and Xie Heng were having an affair, and she deserved this!
But his mind flashed back to the image of Yun Zhi blocking the arrow for him, the blood on her shoulder staining his clothes red, and the stubbornness and fragility in her eyes when she fell into his arms...
"I'm just going to see if she's dead, so that no one will investigate Shen Qingyue's old case." He whispered to himself, as if hypnotizing himself, then took a step and walked towards the side room.
The door to the side room was not locked, but ajar. Xiao Jin pushed it open, and a strong smell of medicine and sweat hit him in the face. He frowned and walked to the bedside.
Under the candlelight, Yun Zhi's face turned even paler. Cold sweat was still dripping down her forehead. Her lips were extremely chapped, and she was still mumbling intermittently: "Cold... so cold... Xiao Jin... don't..."
She actually called out his name in her dream? Xiao Jin paused, a strange feeling inexplicably stirring in his heart. He reached out his hand, his fingertips hovering just above her forehead. After a moment's hesitation, he gently touched it. The scorching heat was like fire, burning his fingertips until they numbed.
"The fever is so severe. If it continues, my brain will be damaged." He whispered to himself, with a hint of imperceptible worry in his tone.
He turned and walked to the table, picked up the copper basin on the table, poured some cold water into it, pulled a clean towel from the shelf, soaked it and wrung it dry, walked to the bed, and carefully put it on Yunzhi's forehead.
His movements were clumsy, and he didn't wring the towel dry enough, so water dripped down Yunzhi's cheeks and onto her neck. Yunzhi flinched, her brows furrowed even tighter, and her mumbling became clearer: "Don't... don't touch me..."
Xiao Jin paused, his annoyance rising again—he was kind enough to cool her down, and she wasn't happy? But seeing her pale face and pain, he didn't take the towel off. Instead, he adjusted its position to better fit her forehead.
"Behave yourself, otherwise you will get burned silly and no one will overturn your father's verdict." He said to the unconscious Yun Zhi, as if he was explaining why he did this, or as if he was trying to convince himself.
For the next few hours, Xiao Jin sat on a chair beside the bed, occasionally taking the towel off, rewetting it, wringing it out, and applying it back to Yun Zhi's forehead. His movements gradually became more skilled, no longer letting water drip onto her face, and he even gently brushed away the loose hair on her forehead while applying the towel.
The candle flame gradually burned out. As dawn approached, Yun Zhi's fever finally subsided and her breathing became more stable, no longer as rapid as before. Xiao Jin watched her brows gradually relax, and the irritation in his heart slowly dissipated.
He stood up, stretched his stiff shoulders, walked to the table, poured a glass of warm water, and pulled out a small porcelain bottle from his pocket—inside it was the fever-reducing medicine Xie Heng had given Yun Zhi, which he had had searched yesterday. He poured out a pill and walked to the bedside, intending to feed it to Yun Zhi.
But just as he was about to pass the pill to her lips, Yun Zhi suddenly moved, her eyes slightly opening. Her consciousness was still hazy, and seeing the figure before her, she thought it was the soldier from her dream, or the old woman in the palace who had been making things difficult for her. She subconsciously shrank back, her voice hoarse, "Don't... don't hit me... I'm not wrong..."
Xiao Jin paused, his heart aching slightly as if pricked by something. He looked at the fear and vigilance in her eyes and remembered everything he had done to her before—making her drink sterilization soup, forcing her to kneel in the snow, whipping her, locking her in a side room... Her fear of him was all caused by him.
"I didn't hit you," he said, his voice softer, a few notches lower than usual, less cold and hard, "Open your mouth and take the medicine."
Yun Zhi regained consciousness a bit. In the dim light filtering through the window, she could clearly see the person in front of her—it was Xiao Jin. Her body tensed instantly, the fear in her eyes growing even stronger. She quickly shook her head, "I won't eat... Don't touch me..."
She was afraid that the medicine was poisonous, that he wanted to harm her again, and that he would do something cruel to her again.
Xiao Jin looked at her resistance and felt his irritation rising again. He had clearly given her the medicine out of kindness, yet she was so resistant! "Do you think I want to harm you? What good will it do me if you die?" His tone grew even colder. He reached out and pinched her chin, forcing her to open her mouth. "Eat it for me!"
Yun Zhi was forced to open her mouth, and Xiao Jin tossed the pill into her mouth, then brought her some warm water and fed it to her to swallow. The pill was bitter, and the warm water slid down her throat, but it didn't bring any warmth, but instead made her heart feel even colder.
"Are you satisfied?" She closed her eyes, her voice filled with despair. "You can kill me or chop me up, as you wish. Please don't torture me like this anymore."
Xiao Jin looked at her closed eyes and pale lips, and the slight irritation in his heart was replaced by guilt. He loosened his hand that was pinching her chin, turned around and walked to the table, put the water glass away, and then walked to the bedside to tuck in the quilt for her, moving very gently, for fear of hurting her.
"Sleep well, no one will hit you again." He whispered, with a hint of tenderness in his voice that he didn't even notice.
Yun Zhi didn't respond, her consciousness gradually fading away. This time, she didn't have a nightmare. In her dream, it was spring in the Imperial Tutor's Mansion. Her mother was picking osmanthus flowers in the garden, her father was reading in the study, and she sat on a stone bench, holding a piece of osmanthus cake in her hand. The sun was warm, and the years were peaceful.
Xiao Jin sat by the bed, watching her breathing gradually steady and her brows relax, and his heart gradually calmed down. He just sat in the chair, watching her sleeping face, until the day was completely bright.
The rain outside the window stopped, and sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on Yun Zhi's face, casting a faint golden glow on her pale face. Xiao Jin stood up, took one last look at her, turned around, gently closed the door, and walked out.
He walked into the yard, and the guards hurried forward: "Your Majesty, you haven't slept all night, do you want to go back to your room and rest for a while?"
"No need," Xiao Jin shook his head, his tone returning to his usual cold and hard tone, "Have someone send breakfast to the side room, and call the imperial physician to see if her fever has completely subsided."
"Yes." The guard responded.
Xiao Jin turned and walked towards the study, but he was still thinking about Yun Zhi calling his name in the dream just now, the burning temperature of her forehead, and the fear and despair in her eyes.
"I just don't want her to die. No one is investigating Shen Qingyue's old case." He said to himself again, trying to suppress the strange feeling in his heart, "She is the daughter of a guilty minister and my substitute. I can't let her die easily. The revenge is not over yet."
But he knew in his heart that this was just an excuse. His concern for Yun Zhi had long since gone beyond "investigating the case" and "revenge." He just didn't want to admit it, and didn't dare to admit it—how could he have such inappropriate thoughts about the daughter of a guilty minister, a substitute?
In the side room, Yun Zhi gradually woke up. She opened her eyes, saw the sunlight outside the window, and touched her forehead again—it was no longer hot, the fever had subsided. She sat up and saw a cup of warm water and a bowl of steaming porridge on the bedside table. There was also a note with unfamiliar handwriting on it: "Take your medicine on time, and drink the porridge while it's hot."
Who sent it? Was it Xiao Jin?
Yun Zhi picked up the water cup, her fingertips touching the warm wall, and a trace of doubt arose in her heart. She vaguely remembered that last night, someone seemed to apply a towel to her, feed her medicine, and even heard Xiao Jin's voice...
Is it him? Will he really care about her?
As soon as this thought came to her mind, she forced it down. It was impossible. How could Xiao Jin care about her if he hated her so much? She must have been delirious from the fever and hallucinating. The porridge and medicine might have been sent by the guards and had nothing to do with Xiao Jin.
She picked up the bowl of porridge and sipped it in small sips. The porridge was soft and sticky, with a hint of sweetness. It was the sweet-scented osmanthus porridge she used to drink at the Taifu Mansion. Suddenly, her tears fell, dripping into the bowl, creating ripples.
No matter who sent it, at least at that moment, she felt a long-lost warmth. However, this warmth was too short-lived and too illusory, like a bubble that could burst at any time.
She finished her porridge and took the medicine as instructed on the note. Just as she lay down, she heard a knock on the door. The imperial physician came in, took her pulse, and said her fever had completely subsided, but she was still very weak and needed to rest.
After the imperial physician left, the side room returned to silence. Yun Zhi lay on the bed, looking at the sunlight outside the window, her heart a mess. She didn't know why Xiao Jin had suddenly become so "good" to her, nor did she know how long this "goodness" would last. She only knew that she could no longer hold any expectations of Xiao Jin, otherwise, she would be the one who got hurt in the end.
Meanwhile, in the study, Xiao Jin couldn't concentrate anymore as he looked at the file on Shen Qingyue's old case. His mind kept flashing back to the pale, fragile figure in the side room, and the way she'd called his name in his dream.
He knew that his feelings for Yun Zhi were becoming increasingly uncontrollable, and this uncontrollable feeling would drag both him and Yun Zhi into a deeper vortex.
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