Chapter 77 [VIP]
This time, the boy wasn't so easily coaxed; no matter what he said, he simply wouldn't comply.
Lu Xuejin leaned in and kissed him several times, his lips brushing against Murong Yue's eyebrows and eyes. The boy just looked at him unhappily, allowing him to kiss, but bit him a few times with his canine teeth. When asked, he refused.
“Even if Your Highness is angry with me, you should still eat properly. Shall we go downstairs and eat first?” Lu Xuejin asked.
He touched the boy's cheek. He ate a lot, but the fat hadn't gone to his face; it had all gone to his height. He still looked as thin as when he first met him. If his cheeks were a little rounder, he would be even cuter.
“I won’t eat,” Murong Yue said. “Brother still cares whether I eat or not. After you leave, I’m not eating anymore. I’m going to starve myself to death.”
Seeing the boy's gritted teeth, Lu Xuejin felt helpless. He said in a low voice, "Even if I go to the capital with Your Highness, how can we be together every day? Does Your Highness have to go on a hunger strike if we are separated?"
Murong Yue was not fooled by him and could tell the difference. He said to him, "Of course not. If Brother Changyou comes with me to Lidu, I will be overjoyed every day. Now that you are going back to Shengjing, how can we be at peace with this separation?"
"In the end, it's because my brother doesn't trust me. He thinks that if he goes with me, we'll just have to hide. If he goes to Shengjing, my life will depend on him. In that case, I'd rather not have it."
“I have never looked down on Your Highness. Why do you say such things?” Lu Xuejin listened quietly. He looked at the boy’s eyes and saw a sharp glint in them, as if he wanted to pierce through and sweep away the world.
He said earnestly, “Your Highness should also understand my feelings. I am much older than Your Highness, and I cannot bear to see Your Highness suffer hardships. I went to the court to protect Your Highness. If I can make Your Highness’s overthrow less difficult, I will gladly do so.”
Murong Yue's eyes reflected his expression, which drew the boy's gaze, the emotions swirling within his eyes barely contained. He then felt the arm around his waist tighten; the prince had bitten his neck. He glanced to the side.
The air smelled of blood, but he didn't struggle. The boy held him and soaked him completely, his pent-up anger landing on him. He bit his earlobe, leaving several teeth marks on his ear.
The issue remained unresolved, and he found himself completely taken advantage of by His Highness. The kiss landed on his side, leaving a blushing mark, which was then covered by his snow-white robes, causing only a slight tingling pain as it brushed against his clothes.
After finally managing to coax him into silence, Lu Xuejin led the boy downstairs and had someone cook a bowl of vegetarian noodles. He stared at the boy from across the room. Murong Yue, with his hands in his sleeves, looked at him, then at the noodles, took a couple of bites, glanced at him, and stared at him with his clear black and white eyes.
People began entering the inn in the middle of the night, and they spotted a procession in the distance. Men and women carrying luggage came and went, and they heard a clanging sound of metal clashing together. A corner of a bun peeked out, revealing patterns of gold hairpins, eyebrow-drawing tools, and replica armor—it looked like a theatrical troupe had entered.
After he and the prince finished their noodles and returned to their room, they heard the opera singer's voice coming from across the hall. It was late at night practicing his singing, but thankfully the voice wasn't loud; it sounded like he was just casually humming a few lines. He could still hear it before going to sleep.
Lu Xuejin lit a candle, the candlelight illuminating his face, and it started raining again in the middle of the night.
In the summer, the cuckoo's cry could often be heard late at night. The ancients often said that the cuckoo's cry was like blood and the ape's wail was like sorrow, and the bird's cry was similar to the mournful voice of the actors today. He stood by the window and listened for a long time, then glanced at Murong Yue as he fell asleep. The young man was still holding his pillow in his arms, and he was not sleeping soundly.
He wondered what nightmare he was having, but as he watched Murong Yue sleeping from the side of the bed, he noticed cold sweat on the boy's forehead and his lips gradually turning pale. He couldn't help but touch the child's head; it was ice cold.
He then took a candle and fetched a basin of hot water, wrung out a towel, and placed it on the prince's head. The rain pattered softly outside the window. The boy's clothes were soaked with sweat, his damp hair falling across his cheeks, his dark hair cascading down his sides, blending seamlessly with the night outside. His round-necked shirt revealed a glimpse of his long, slender neck, where his Adam's apple was more prominent than ever. Beads of sweat dripped down his chin, leaving a damp patch.
He stood by the bedside, wiping the boy's body. The wounds beneath his clothes were revealed, two marks of different sizes on his chest. One resembled a sore, the other a slanted, meandering cut. Both wounds had now fully healed, and when he touched them, the prince instinctively frowned.
All night long, because His Highness hadn't slept well, he hadn't closed his eyes. The next morning, the actor's voice stopped, but His Highness didn't wake up. The lively young man from the day before was now listless; he watched as the trumpet creeper curled up its leaves, its vibrant beauty reduced to a huddled ball.
Ziyan quickly went to fetch a doctor.
Lu Xuejin: "Did Your Highness have these symptoms before?"
Tenglu shook her head and replied, "No. His Highness was fine when he was in the palace. He was injured at the hunting grounds, and after returning, he only spent a little more time at his father's and mother's memorial tablets. He never fell asleep and never woke up again."
It looks like the symptoms of a previous nightmare.
A dark cloud settled over Lu Xuejin's eyes. She had been so calm in making her decision earlier, but now, seeing the young man ill, she regretted her words from the previous day. If she had brought this up again once they reached Lidu, would His Highness have stopped falling ill?
After days of rain, Ziyan returned quickly.
"The nearest doctor is unwilling to come because of the rain. I have already sent a guard to fetch a doctor from the city. It will take two hours."
Two hours was not an option, so Lu Xuejin asked, "Where is the nearest doctor?"
Ziyan: "It's at the iron gate, not far away. But Lord Song Fangting is also nearby. I heard she wants to see him, so she'll probably come over as soon as she finishes dealing with things in Dingzhou."
"The opera troupe downstairs is here to do business with Lord Song. I heard this morning that Song Fangting likes to watch operas, so these troupes are here to perform for her," Tengluo said.
Lu Xuejin: "Prepare the carriage and take His Highness to the doctor first."
Unable to wake up properly, he felt a pang of worry and touched the boy's forehead, while the wisteria beside him supported him. They went downstairs together, wearing straw hats because of the rain. The iron gate was only a quarter of an hour from the inn, but the rain was getting heavier.
Lu Xuejin looked out the window at the rain. The autumn rain lashed against the leaves, and withered leaves piled up in a thick layer on the muddy ground. The wisteria beside him looked at him and said, "Young master, don't worry. His Highness is a lucky person and will surely get better soon."
“His Highness is rarely sick, and he never complains when he is unwell,” he said, touching the boy’s cheek again, savoring the warmth.
Tengluo said thoughtfully, "Your Highness may not care about these things, always feeling that you can solve them on your own without telling others. If this accumulates for a long time, it will become a disease."
Upon arriving at their destination, they found the doctor residing in an alley. Lu Xuejin carried the boy into the alley, where low, sunken wooden pillars led to gray tiled roofs. This was the architectural style of the South. The plants in the courtyard were meticulously trimmed, and bridges and shimmering lakes were everywhere. Looking up at the sky, one felt incredibly close to it, with white clouds drifting lazily by and willow branches swaying in the breeze.
He felt a faint breath near his ear, and the boy on his back woke up. Murong Yue touched the bamboo hat next to the boy's head and tentatively called out, "Brother Changyou."
"Brother...why are you carrying me on your back? Where are we going?" Murong Yue asked.
"Your Highness is awake?" Lu Xuejin noticed a drop of water on his neck. The raindrops seeped into the gap of his collar through his straw hat, bringing a slight chill.
"Your Highness is ill, and we are on our way to see the doctor. Are you feeling any better now? Does your head hurt?"
He asked, but received no reply. As he passed the lake, he saw his reflection: he was carrying the boy on his back, and the boy on his back had fallen asleep again, clinging tightly to his neck before falling asleep, his handsome, cold face now pale and withered.
If His Highness were to wake up, he would surely say that he is alright. His Highness's personality is completely different from his brother's. His Highness handles things on his own and dislikes others discovering his weaknesses. Even to him, that weakness is like a flaw to the young man, who hides his bitterness and exhaustion, always appearing lively, innocent, and composed in public.
He looked at his reflection carrying the prince on his back. The boy on his back seemed to have transformed into a patch of weak soil, covered with bright and lush flowers. Moths and butterflies danced on it, burrowing into the prince's eyes, reflecting boundless vitality through those sharp eyes.
With a "plop," a drop of water landed at his feet. A red shadow emerged from beside him, and when he looked up, he saw a flamboyant face that was exactly like his own. The red-clad boy was born from the water, grew from the reflection, and grew from his memory.
He walked forward, and the boy in red also walked forward, without saying a word, just watching him from the side.
The boy in red held his old book in his hand, splashing mud onto his sleeves as he stepped into the muddy ground. Seeing him stop, the boy in red came closer to look at him.
"You said you would stick to what you started, didn't you? And what are you doing now?"
The boy in red approached him, staring into his eyes, in which he detected a calm mockery. The shadow followed him into the doctor's room, disappearing into the rain, merging into his shadow and becoming one with him.
"Look at this heavy rain, it really doesn't seem to be stopping. It's not falling where it should be, but it's pouring down where it shouldn't be." The doctor was in the courtyard at the time, and when he saw someone coming in, he quickly went to greet them.
"Is this the maid who came to fetch someone earlier? My legs are weak, and I can't go out in the rain, so please bring the patient here. Just leave him here and let me take a look. Does he have a fever?" the doctor asked.
Murong Yue lay on the small bed, and Lu Xuejin said upon hearing this, "No. He was injured twice before, and one of the times he had symptoms similar to the current one—he would fall asleep and never wake up. So... is there any way to cure this?"
"He falls asleep and never wakes up? Then it's not a physical symptom," the doctor said, lifting Murong Yue's eyelids to examine him carefully, and then feeling the prince's pulse.
"I mainly diagnose external injuries here, so your symptoms are quite rare... but it's not uncommon. I once treated a soldier whose leg had been severed on the battlefield. He came into the city clutching his leg, seeking treatment. No doctor in the city was willing to take him, so I went and set his leg. He stayed with me for six months, and his leg recovered, but he had the same symptoms as this young man: he would occasionally fall asleep and not wake up. Sometimes he would hug his leg and talk to himself, still trapped in the nightmare of that day."
The doctor said to him, "I'll give you some sugar water to drink every day. When he wakes up, ask him about the injury; perhaps he's been traumatized again. I'll also prescribe some calming medication. If his condition worsens, go to Fugou City and find a doctor named Qiuji. He's skilled in this kind of illness."
“This…” Lu Xuejin said, “He woke up once on the way, then fell asleep again. How can we wake him up? What if he doesn’t wake up at all?”
"Well... no one can say for sure, it all depends on his fate."
Looking at the boy's profile, Lu Xuejin understood the doctor's implication. She took some sugar water and calming medicine from the courtyard and returned with Tengluo by the same route.
The events of the past two days were far less dangerous than before. The boy hadn't shown these symptoms when he killed the guards and wreaked havoc at the Bodhi Sect. He'd only mentioned parting ways with them the day before, and now he was having nightmares he didn't want to wake up from?
Lu Xuejin was lost in thought in the carriage, his calm eyes reflecting the boy's features. Tengluo, who had overheard the whole thing, said from the side, "Young Master, rest assured, His Highness will wake up soon."
“Every time the young master is about to leave, His Highness gets so angry that he faints. He has too much of a temper.”
Murong Yue slept for a full day and night. Lu Xuejin didn't close his eyes for a day and a night. The actor across the street had already practiced his singing. He was keeping watch by the child's bedside, and whenever the actor practiced his singing, the boy beside the bed would break out in a cold sweat. He must have been dreaming of something terrifying.
Normally, he's noisy and disruptive, always wanting to read comic books or drink milk tea. He's either elusive or has ill intentions, and you can't see him if you're not careful. Now that he's finally quiet and lying obediently on the side of the bed, it makes his heart clench. He keeps touching his body to check his temperature, worried that he might not wake up.
You should wake up soon.
Lu Xuejin stayed by Murong Yue's side, but couldn't stay awake any longer and fell asleep. He woke up in the middle of the night and found the boy holding him in a comfortable position in his arms, nestling against him like a den. He looked at the boy like this, like a kitten curling up its tail and snuggling into his arms.
The next morning, when he woke up, he was met with a thoughtful face. Murong Yue was already awake. The young man's sharp and refined features drew closer to him, the sickly look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a thick, inky darkness. His broad shoulders were unclothed, and his dark hair was casually spread at his sides.
“Brother Changyou, I think I had a dream. I dreamt that you carried me on your back and took me to see a doctor,” Murong Yue said.
As he spoke, Murong Yue pounced on him, pinning him down. He looked at his earlobe, leaned in, and licked it. "It's only been one night, how come the marks are all gone?"
“Your Highness is not dreaming. Yesterday, I carried Your Highness to see a doctor. Your Highness did not wake up during the day... Do you feel unwell anywhere now?” Lu Xuejin asked.
"Where does it hurt?" Murong Yue, still angry about the day before yesterday, pointed to his face and said, "It hurts here. I need a hundred kisses from you to feel better."
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