Chapter 36 [VIP]
As the rain poured down, the carriage swayed and staggered out of the palace, stirring up a swirling mass of raindrops.
Inside the carriage, Lu Xuejin held someone close to him. The boy's face was pale and bluish, eroded by the rain, and he was on the verge of death in Lu Xuejin's arms. Lu Xuejin held Murong Yue's fingers, occasionally running them over his pulse, feeling the faint pulse appear and disappear.
He remembered the dagger Xue Yi had placed on the table, and his lips touched Murong Yue's forehead. The boy's body was ice-cold, as if he had lost his temperature. All the burning heat had faded away.
They left the palace overnight, and the carriage stopped in a courtyard outside the palace.
Upon arrival, Lu Xuejin carried the person down from the carriage, with a guard holding an umbrella for him. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that this guard was the same one who had humiliated the actors in the palace earlier.
With the bamboo umbrella landing on top, Lu Xuejin said, "He prepared this performance, why didn't he tell me sooner?"
The guard beside him said, "His Majesty acted on a whim today and had not made any prior arrangements. The man was brought in at the last minute... He doesn't seem to be in good condition; perhaps his illness has not yet subsided."
"His Majesty went to the Ninth Prince's place alone as well."
“…In that case,” Lu Xuejin listened as they entered the hall. He said to the guard, “Go back and continue to keep watch, and inquire about his condition.”
The guard responded with a "Yes," and then opened his umbrella and disappeared into the darkness.
The hall had been properly prepared, and the lit candles illuminated the boy's pale face. Lu Xuejin re-bandaged the boy's wounds by candlelight, changed his wet clothes, and repeatedly wiped the boy's palms and neck with hot water until his body temperature returned. He was busy until midnight. The boy seemed to be having a nightmare, occasionally uttering low murmurs, his brows constantly furrowed.
"Ninth Prince?" he called out, but the person in his arms did not respond.
"Yue'er." Lu Xuejin called out again, his eyes lowered, and he placed his palm on the boy's forehead. The boy's childhood name seemed to have an effect, and his breathing became a little more even in his arms. The boy, like an infant nestled in his mother's embrace, fell peacefully asleep surrounded by his scent.
"Yue'er." He uttered those two words with a tender and lingering tone.
Yue'er. Suffering Yue'er. He's late.
He stayed by Murong Yue's side all night, and went to the criminal trial committee early the next morning. The courtyard was handed over to Tengluo.
Now that he was no longer qualified to attend court, he could only wait here for Song Zhao. Song Zhao returned at noon and saw him at the entrance, pausing slightly in his tracks.
“You were waiting for me,” Song Zhao said.
Lu Xuejin: "I just arrived as well. I didn't have a chance to mention this to my brother yesterday. Did Lord Song inquire about His Majesty's intentions at court today?"
Song Zhao stood still, staring at him quietly for a while, as if trying to determine whether what he said was true or false. After a moment, he said, "His Majesty fainted in the palace today. I heard that he went to your place last night. The imperial physician and I were busy all morning and didn't have time to ask him."
Then Song Zhao added, "Yesterday Qiu Fuze went to the imperial prison and sent someone to deliver a message. If the prisoners are not released, the salt market price will be changed in three days."
Lu Xuejin met Song Zhao's gaze, making no mention of Xue Yi's illness, and continued, "Is there any news from Wei Ning? It shouldn't be a problem in three days, as long as the salt merchants still have some salt left, we can hold out for a while."
We cannot release him. If we release Qiu Xiongcai today, future court officials will follow suit. If power can override the law, what use is the law?
Song Zhao: "Wei Ning has already gone to Yancheng. He should be there tonight at full speed."
“In that case, I have faith in Wei Ning’s abilities; that’s not a problem for her,” Lu Xuejin said. “But I need to trouble Lord Song with my brother’s case. He must clear his name and exonerate him.”
Song Zhao looked at him, his eyes scrutinizing him, as if asking why he didn't ask himself. After a while, Song Zhao looked away again and didn't mention the matter.
After the person left, the guards at the criminal trial committee spoke up: "Lord Lu arrived early this morning. He has been waiting for you here for two hours... and hasn't left all morning."
Song Zhao looked at Lu Xuejin's departing figure not far away. The snow crane on her shoulder spread its wings and flew away in an instant, as if it had transformed into a snow-white bird.
Lu Xuejin had just left the criminal trial committee and was walking around a street corner when two guards approached him.
“Lord Lu, we are guards from the Qiu residence. My master invites you to the Qiu residence for a visit.”
Lu Xuejin stopped where he was and glanced at the sky. "Today is probably not a good day. I already have an appointment to apologize to Elder Qiu on my behalf."
After he finished speaking, he looked at the people. The two guards did not stop him. Seeing this, they looked at each other and then made way for him.
They returned to the courtyard outside the palace.
Ziyan was waiting outside. When she saw him, she quickly came over.
"Young Master. His Highness the Ninth Prince has awakened. I was just about to send someone to find you. His Highness has been wanting to see you."
Upon hearing this, Lu Xuejin looked towards the inner hall. The child wasn't lying obediently on the bed; he had just woken up and was about to get out. He noticed that the boy's face was covered in sweat, his eyebrows and eyes were washed clean with ink, and his fan-shaped eyes looked like a pair of empty, bright grapes, with a deathly stillness hanging in his pupils.
“Brother… Changyou.”
Lu Xuejin quickly stopped him. Before he could reach the bedside, Murong Yue lost his balance and fell into his arms. Holding him carefully, worried about aggravating his injuries, he sighed inwardly.
“I’ve been here all along. Your Highness need not worry. I just went to see Song Zhao. Your Highness should rest well.”
After he finished explaining, the boy in his arms didn't react, burying his face against his neck as if craving his warmth. The boy looked up, revealing a pale, handsome face. His eyes stared at him, veiled by a fragile mist, all his innocence and melancholy shattered within them.
"……elder brother."
His waist was embraced, the boy's grip tightening so much he could barely breathe. Not content with that, the boy's earlobe brushed against his hair, their skin pressed together, making them seem like monsters with four arms and four legs. Until they were close enough to hear his heartbeat, the boy leaned in, staring intently into his eyes, trying to make sure it was him, not a dream.
“…Your Highness.” Lu Xuejin was somewhat helpless. He let Murong Yue hold him. When the boy leaned in, his breath touched his lips, and his eyes were like sharp gems, their eyelashes almost merging. He had a strange feeling that if they didn’t call out, their eyes might collide.
As soon as he called out, Murong Yue immediately froze, stopping his movements like a puppet, but still staring at him without blinking. Seeing that the boy seemed frightened, he couldn't help but feel a strange emotion rising in his heart, and imitated the boy by hugging him tightly in his arms.
“…Brother is here, Your Highness,” Lu Xuejin said, his lips brushing against Murong Yue’s hair. Murong Yue turned slightly to the side, staring at him for a moment before his pupils suddenly contracted, as if he had seen something intolerable. A low scream suddenly escaped his throat. The voice was a suppressed growl and hiss, like some young beast being cruelly treated, almost piercing one’s eardrums.
Lu Xuejin didn't move, but Murong Yue's scream pierced the beam, drawing Ziyan's worried look. He shook his head at Ziyan, his ears ringing. He looked down at the boy in his arms and patiently comforted him, "Your Highness, it's alright now. We won't see him again in the future, so there's no need to be afraid."
"Don't be afraid," he said gently, comforting the boy in his arms.
"Your Highness, look at me." His lips accidentally touched the boy's forehead, and he felt the dampness of his breath. The boy fell silent, staring at his lips, his chest still churning.
Those pupils, filled with ink, revealed no emotion, making them seem unlike those of a living person. They resembled meticulously sculpted dolls, possessing a lifelike, artificial quality.
A strange unease welled up in Lu Xuejin's heart. Seeing this, he touched the boy's temple with his lips, and the boy calmed down. The chaotic and uneasy aura paused for a moment, then rose again. After he kissed the boy's forehead, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and the tips of his ears, the boy, like a lost and blushing doll, buried himself in his arms and refused to let go.
Soon, she became restless in his arms again, as if she had experienced betrayal and left her nest, squirming wildly in his embrace. Murong Yue broke out in a cold sweat, clutching the hem of his clothes, his lips moved slightly, but he couldn't utter a single word. When he did, all that came out was a chaotic, incoherent scream.
He lowered his head and soothed him with his breath, whispering in Murong Yue's ear.
His lips brushed against Murong Yue's temple. The boy moved slightly, and it was as if the boy had become a shell attached to him. The moment he moved, the boy became restless, as if he had made his embrace a safe haven. Just as Murong Yue had thought, why would his own nest move? It was indeed astonishing.
He remained motionless in that position until Murong Yue fell asleep in his arms. Only then did he carefully place the boy back on the bed and thoroughly examine his wounds. He had already discovered last time that the boy's healing ability was extraordinary.
That night, Dr. Jia came to this small courtyard.
Doctor Jia carefully opened Murong Yue's eyelids to examine the boy's injuries, and after listening to his description, he fell into deep thought.
"This... this is the first time I've ever seen anything like this. There's a saying in the mortal world that people with extremely extreme personalities... after suffering an unbearable blow, because they are unwilling to accept the outcome and blame themselves... will fall into a state of dissociation. They are unwilling to face reality, so they hide their true selves and let their past selves replace their present selves. There was a case in a book before, where a boy in Quzhou witnessed his mother's death and thus fell into a state of dissociation, his mind becoming like that of an eight-year-old child, stuck in the days before his mother's death."
Lu Xuejin listened quietly, looking at the face of the boy on the bed, and asked, "How can it be restored?"
Doctor Jia: "This is a case of mental impairment. He has hidden himself away, and whether he can recover depends on fate. There are very few records of similar symptoms in the public... making it difficult to use them as a reference for diagnosis."
"That was the only case. Later, the boy recovered completely thirty years later, shaved his head and entered the temple, becoming a famous monk in the area."
In addition, Doctor Jia also noticed that while the Ninth Prince was good at pretending, his body could not lie.
"His Highness has liver fire and is prone to anger. I will prescribe some calming and heat-clearing herbal soup for him. You can give him a bowl every day."
Lu Xuejin: "I understand... Thank you, Doctor Jia."
Ziyan, who was listening nearby, noticed that her young master was staring at the prince in a daze, and said, "Young master, this servant will go and inquire... Perhaps Doctor Jia has made a mistake, and the symptoms are not accurate."
Doctor Jia's medical skills are naturally trustworthy. Lu Xuejin said to Ziyan, "It's alright. Even if His Highness's mind is like that of a child, he is still a genius among children, so there's no need to worry."
Ziyan remained silent. She gave a soft reply and took the prescription away.
The candlelight flickered across Lu Xuejin's face. He held Murong Yue's hand, placed the boy's finger bones against his cheek, and looked down at the boy's expression, staring at him for a long time.
He fell asleep beside the boy.
The next morning, before Lu Xuejin had even opened his eyes, he felt a gaze upon him. He opened his eyes and saw that Murong Yue was already awake, sitting up and looking at him, having been watching him for who knows how long. He noticed the boy's undergarments... and a pair of red earrings in his hair.
As he fell asleep, Murong Yue woke up and, from who knows where, found a pair of earrings and put them on. The crimson color accentuated the boy's bright face, and his sharp eyes looked at him intently. He leaned closer and called out, "Brother Changyou."
"Brother." Murong Yue wanted to say something else, but when he opened his mouth, his voice turned into a hoarse scream. It was clearly not the sound he wanted to make; apart from that one "brother," he couldn't say anything else.
Lu Xuejin also noticed something different. He sensed that Murong Yue wanted to speak, but couldn't. Worried that the young man was anxious, he moved closer and said gently, "I'm here. Your Highness, don't worry, I know what you want to say. How about we eat first? After we eat, I'll listen to you slowly."
"Your Highness is a good boy." He leaned over and kissed Murong Yue's forehead.
Murong Yue reacted a beat late, a blush spreading across his face. He touched his head, and under his gaze, the hoarse, mocking scream in his throat subsided. He was then embraced, the boy burying himself in his arms as if he couldn't get enough of holding him, staring intently into his pupils.
“Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Changyou brother. Brother. Brother—”
"..." Lu Xuejin's eyelashes fluttered. He couldn't tell what the boy wanted to express from those few words. His expression remained calm. He said to Murong Yue, "Your Highness, come with me."
He took a step, but the boy clung to him, refusing to move. It took him almost half an hour to get Murong Yue to the dining table. Once there, the boy stopped moving again, refusing to sit on the same chair as him.
Ziyan watched from the side and, for some reason, noticed a resemblance to Tengluo's childhood refusal to eat. Whether it was from her master or simply a case of the master and servant sharing similar personalities, the way she acted spoiled looked remarkably similar.
Seeing this, Lu Xuejin said, "How about Your Highness sits here? I'll feed Your Highness." He was referring to his lap.
Murong Yue remained motionless, staring at him with his shattered eyes, his lifeless pupils reflecting his image. For some reason, he suddenly understood the meaning behind it all.
Lu Xuejin: "Ziyan, you can go down now."
Ziyan: "Yes."
After everyone left, Murong Yue finally sat down. Lu Xuejin's fingers were being held by the young man, who pulled him into a hug like a doll. He couldn't help but rub his forehead, letting the young man hold him in his arms.
This is truly...
"Brother Changyou." Murong Yue called out to him solemnly, having finally found a satisfactory posture, and his pronunciation was much clearer. He scooped up some soup with a spoon and brought it to Changyou's lips.
Lu Xuejin glanced sideways and saw the blush on the boy's ear. He sighed inwardly and took a sip of soup. Then he watched as Murong Yue took back the spoon and licked the remaining soup clean with the tip of his tongue.
"elder brother--"
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