delirious ramblings calling out an old name
The sweltering heat of summer enveloped Qingshui Town, even the cicadas' chirping sounded weak and listless. Mo Xiaoyu was drying books in the courtyard when she suddenly heard a muffled thud coming from the study.
She hurriedly pushed open the door and entered, only to find Xie Yunzhi lying on the ground, his face flushed and his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat. A copy of the Book of Songs lay scattered beside him, its pages crumpled from being gripped uncontrollably by his fingers.
"Young Master!" She stepped forward quickly, and her heart tightened when she touched his burning skin.
The symptoms came on suddenly, but they reminded her of how Yunxi had shielded her from the heavenly tribulation a thousand years ago. He had collapsed suddenly then, his body burning hot and his soul unstable.
"Cold..." Xie Yunzhi murmured in his unconscious state, his fingers unconsciously gripping her sleeve.
This gesture sent a shiver down Mo Xiaoyu's spine. A thousand years ago, on that rainy night, he had also held her sleeve in this same way, whispering in her ear, "Don't be afraid..."
She bit her lower lip and helped him onto the couch. When her fingertips touched his burning forehead, the jade pendant in her bosom suddenly vibrated violently, and a warm current flowed into his body through her fingertips.
Is this... a remnant soul trying to save itself?
"Amo..." he suddenly called out softly, his voice weak but clear.
Mo Xiaoyu's hand froze in mid-air. He called her "Amo," not "Miss Mo." That form of address was far too intimate, completely unlike his usual restrained manner.
What chilled her even more was that the instant he uttered that name, a forgotten memory surged forth like a tidal wave—
Those were the last peaceful moments before the war between gods and demons. She lay by the Jade Pool, listlessly splashing the water.
"What would you do if I forgot you one day?" Yunxi suddenly asked, her tone heavy with a meaning she couldn't understand.
She laughed dismissively, "Then I'll keep nagging you about it every day until you remember!"
"What if... I just can't remember?"
"Then I'll change my name, change my identity, and stay by your side forever." She tilted her head and thought for a moment. "You can call me Amo, it's a nickname I gave myself, only you know it."
The memory abruptly ended there. Mo Xiaoyu stared blankly at the unconscious person on the bed, tears blurring her vision.
So he remembered. Not as Xie Yunzhi's memory, but as an imprint buried deep in his soul.
She fetched cold water and carefully wiped him down. As her fingertips brushed across his furrowed brow, he suddenly opened his eyes. His usually calm eyes were now misty, reflecting her worried face.
"Little Fish..." he called softly, his voice weak but filled with an indescribable longing.
This call caused Mo Xiaoyu to drop the handkerchief from her hand. She stared at him in disbelief, her heart pounding like a drum.
But he quickly closed his eyes again and fell into a deeper coma. His call just now seemed to be nothing more than the delirium of a high fever.
In the evening, Li Xiuyuan arrived upon hearing the news, bringing with him the old doctor from Jishetang.
"Brother Xie, this is due to overwork and the heat," the old doctor said after taking your pulse. "I'll prescribe some medicine; you'll need to rest well."
Looking at Xie Yunzhi, who was unconscious on the bed, Li Xiuyuan suddenly said to Mo Xiaoyu, "Miss Mo, may I speak with you in private?"
As dusk deepened in the courtyard, Li Xiuyuan's expression appeared particularly solemn in the setting sun.
"Miss Mo," he lowered his voice, "there's something I'm not sure if I should say."
"Please speak, Young Master Li."
"Brother Xie's illness this time is quite strange." He looked at her meaningfully, "Do you know that everyone in town is saying that Brother Xie's recent misfortunes started after you arrived?"
Mo Xiaoyu's heart sank suddenly.
"Of course I don't believe any of that," Li Xiuyuan said, changing the subject. "But rumors can be a powerful thing. Lord Lin has already heard about these rumors and is quite displeased with Brother Xie."
She gripped the hem of her clothes tightly, her nails digging deep into her palms.
"Brother Xie has a bright future ahead of him," Li Xiuyuan's voice turned colder, "If Miss Mo truly cares for him, she should know what to do."
Just then, Xie Yunzhi's violent coughing came from inside the house. Mo Xiaoyu, disregarding Li Xiuyuan, hurriedly turned and went inside.
Xie Yunzhi had already woken up and was struggling to get up. When he saw her, he was slightly taken aback, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, as if searching for something.
"I..." he began, his voice hoarse, "I just had a dream."
Mo Xiaoyu's heart jumped.
"There was a woman in my dream," he said slowly, "who kept crying."
The medicine bowl in her hand trembled slightly.
"I can't see her face clearly," he frowned, as if trying to recall, "but... it hurts here." He pointed to his chest.
At this moment, Mo Xiaoyu almost blurted out: That's because you feel sorry for me!
But she didn't say anything in the end, she just silently handed over the bowl of medicine.
In the stillness of the night, Xie Yunzhi's fever finally subsided. Mo Xiaoyu stayed by his bedside, gazing at his sleeping face, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
He remembered "Amo", remembered someone crying, remembered the pain in his heart, but he forgot why.
The moonlight outside the window was as clear as water, and she gently touched the jade pendant in her bosom. The warm touch seemed to answer the call of her heart.
"Yunxi..." she murmured softly, "What should I do?"
Should she continue to cherish these memories that only she remembers, or let him go and live the life that belongs to Xie Yunzhi?
This question is destined to have no answer.
Just as she was lost in thought, the person on the bed suddenly stirred. Xie Yunzhi slowly opened his eyes, his gaze clear, clearly his fever had subsided.
"Miss Mo," he looked at her, "why are you still here?"
That one word, "Miss Mo," shattered all the tenderness that had just been there. He reverted to being the gentle and aloof scholar, Xie Yunzhi.
"How are you feeling, young master?" she asked, forcing a smile.
"Much better." He sat up, glancing out the window. "What time is it?"
"It's midnight."
He nodded, then suddenly said, "Tomorrow... Lord Lin is hosting a banquet, and I need to go."
These words were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing Mo Xiaoyu's last glimmer of hope.
"Young Master's illness has not yet healed..."
"It's alright," he interrupted her, "Lord Lin personally invited me; I couldn't refuse."
She stopped speaking and silently tidied up the medicine bowl. As she turned to leave, she heard him whisper:
"Thank you... for taking care of me."
These words, spoken so calmly, almost brought tears to her eyes.
A thousand years ago, after he shielded her from a heavenly tribulation, he said the same thing to her: "Thank you... for still being alive."
Now, all he thanks her for is her ordinary care.
That night, Mo Xiaoyu couldn't sleep. She sat by the window, watching the moon move from east to west.
As the first rays of dawn shone through the window, she made a decision.
Since he was destined for a career in government, and since there was an insurmountable chasm between them, she would simply stay by his side.
Just like he guarded her a thousand years ago.
But this decision caused a certain part of her heart to die completely.
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