Chapter 145
As the sun set, the aroma of food wafted through the camp. Xiao Qiyun put down the official documents in his hand, glanced at the darkening sky outside the window, and then turned to look at Su Zhelan, who was still fast asleep.
He hesitated for a moment, then gently walked to the bedside, leaned down, and softly called in Su Zhelan's ear, "Wake up, it's time for dinner."
Su Zhelan's eyelashes trembled slightly, but she did not wake up immediately.
Xiao Qiyun gently stroked his cheek, her voice softening further: "Get up and eat something before you sleep, okay?"
This time, Su Zhelan finally opened his eyes slowly, his hazy gaze meeting Xiao Qiyun's gentle gaze. He subconsciously tried to get up, but the soreness in his lower back made him groan softly. Xiao Qiyun quickly supported his shoulders and gently helped him sit up.
"I had the kitchen prepare some congee and side dishes," Xiao Qiyun said, picking up a warm food container from the side. "You haven't eaten all day."
Su Zhelan rubbed her eyes, her voice still sleepy, "What time is it?"
"It's three-quarters past dusk." Xiao Qiyun opened the food box, and a light aroma of rice immediately wafted out. "You slept the entire afternoon."
A lamp had been lit inside the tent, casting a warm, yellow glow over the two of them. Xiao Qiyun carefully scooped a spoonful of porridge, gently blew on it to cool it, and then held it to Su Zhelan's lips: "The temperature is just right."
Su Zhelan reached out somewhat shyly, "I can do it myself..."
"Don't move." Xiao Qiyun's tone left no room for argument. "You're still not feeling well."
The porridge was made with high-quality japonica rice, with the addition of poria cocos and yam, making it both light and nourishing. Xiao Qiyun fed her patiently, ensuring each spoonful was at the right temperature. Occasionally, a grain of rice would get on Su Zhelan's lips, which he would gently wipe away with a handkerchief.
"You should eat some too," Su Zhelan said softly after swallowing a mouthful of porridge.
Xiao Qiyun shook his head: "Let's talk after you finish eating."
The sounds of soldiers eating outside the tent made the space inside seem even warmer. Su Zhelan ate in small bites, occasionally glancing up at Xiao Qiyun's focused expression.
Under the warm yellow light, the fatigue between Xiao Qiyun's brows was clearly visible, indicating that he had been busy handling military affairs all afternoon.
"That's enough." After eating about half a bowl, Su Zhelan gently shook her head. "You should eat too, the porridge is getting cold."
Xiao Qiyun put down his bowl, but first poured Su Zhelan a glass of warm water. After watching him drink it, he ate a little of the remaining food. His gaze never left Su Zhelan, afraid of missing any expression of discomfort on her face.
After dinner, Xiao Qiyun personally cleaned up the dishes and wrung out a hot towel to wipe Su Zhelan's face.
Night had fallen, and the area outside the tent gradually quieted down, with only the occasional chirping of insects and the footsteps of patrolling soldiers remaining.
Morning light filtered through the white gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on the bluestone ground. When Xiao Qiyun awoke, he found Su Zhelan already sitting upright before the coiled bronze mirror, the black iron pen gleaming coldly between her fingers.
"Thank you for your trouble, Your Highness." Su Zhelan's voice was still hoarse from the morning. "Could you please repaint my facial markings today?"
Xiao Qiyun's gaze fell on Su Zhelan's neck. After a moment of silence, his voice was low and deep: "That's natural."
As he took the pen, his fingertips inadvertently brushed against Su Zhelan's palm, the coolness spreading along their skin. Xiao Qiyun leaned closer to the bronze mirror, his left hand gently supporting Su Zhelan's chin, his right hand dipping the pen into the inkstone. As the pen tip hovered between Su Zhelan's brows, he noticed a slight tremor in her.
"Don't move." Xiao Qiyun's voice was lower than usual, with a morning hoarseness. The pen tip fell, and the ink droplet slowly spread on the skin, transforming into winding dragon head patterns.
As the pen tip reached the most intricate intertwined branches on Su Zhelan's cheekbone, Xiao Qiyun's breath inadvertently brushed against her ear. He felt Su Zhelan's eyelashes tremble slightly, but she maintained her tilted-back posture.
As the morning light gradually brightened, the newly painted ink patterns revealed layers as the light shifted: the dragon scales on the forehead gleamed with a bluish-black luster, the vine patterns on the temples were tinged with ochre, and the snake-shaped patterns winding to the collarbone were faintly tinged with dark gold.
As he drew the sensitive area around Su Zhelan's Adam's apple, Xiao Qiyun's fingertips unconsciously pressed against the back of her neck. This controlling gesture caused their eyes to meet in the mirror—one's eyes were deep and dark, the other's eyes rippled with subtle emotions. The brush paused here, the ink gradually seeping into her skin.
The newly drawn ink patterns seemed to come alive in the morning light, and Xiao Qiyun's knuckles brushed against those slightly raised lines.
Xiao Qiyun's knuckles gently traced the slightly raised ink lines, his voice low and gentle: "You do not need to attend today's military meeting."
His fingertips lingered on Su Zhelan's collarbone, feeling the slight warmth of her skin beneath his hand. "I'll go and discuss the details of borrowing troops with the various generals."
Su Zhelan looked up at the bronze mirror, where Xiao Qiyun's calm and composed features were reflected. "But..." He had just begun to speak when Xiao Qiyun gently pressed his fingertip to his lips.
"No buts." Xiao Qiyun's tone left no room for argument, yet it carried an undisguised concern. "You..." He paused, then continued, "You need to rest well."
Morning light filtered through the gauze curtains, gilding Xiao Qiyun's shoulders. He rose and took the outer robe hanging on the screen, his movement stirring a gentle breeze that ruffled the undried black lines on Su Zhelan's forehead.
"Go back to your tent and rest." Xiao Qiyun fastened his belt, his sword clinking softly at his waist. "I've already instructed the army doctor to prepare some calming medicine."
Su Zhelan slowly stood up, the ink patterns on his face swirling in the light as he moved. He nodded slightly: "I will obey Your Highness's orders."
Xiao Qiyun was about to turn around when he suddenly stopped. He reached out and straightened Su Zhelan's clothes, his fingertips inadvertently brushing against the newly painted patterns: "If you feel unwell, send someone to report it immediately."
As dusk fell, Su Zhelan sat alone in her tent.
The oil in the copper lamp had been refilled three times, and a thick layer of scorch had formed on the wick. He stared blankly at the flickering flame, his fingers unconsciously tracing the route the army might take the next day on the table.
Occasionally, the footsteps of night patrol soldiers could be heard outside the tent, the clatter of armor approaching and then fading away. Each time he heard the noise, he would straighten up slightly, but the footsteps always went straight past his tent flap.
The medicine had long since cooled in the bowl, a thin layer of grease forming on its surface. He picked up the bowl and put it down again, the bottom of the bowl making a soft sound as it struck the wooden table. As he rose and lifted the curtain, the cold northern wind immediately rushed in, making his thin clothes cling tightly to his body.
As the stars gradually filled the night sky, he gazed in the direction of the commander's camp, where the lights were still on.
The water clock dripped continuously, and when the gong sounded at midnight, he finally heard familiar footsteps approaching from afar. The footsteps paused for a moment outside the tent, and a chill wafted in as the curtain was lifted.
Xiao Qiyun walked in, his clothes damp with night dew, a weary gentleness in his eyes: "Have you been waiting long?"
Su Zhelan rose to greet him, gently brushing the frost off his shoulder with her fingertips: "The medicine was just warmed."
He took a white porcelain bowl from the warmer; the medicine was still steaming. "You've been working hard these past few days; you should take care of yourself first."
As Xiao Qiyun took the medicine bowl, she grasped his hand, her fingertips gently tracing the ink patterns on it: "Everything has been discussed. We can set off back at dawn tomorrow."
He drank the medicine in one gulp, then pulled Su Zhelan to sit down under the lamp. "Now... it's time to apply the medicine for you."
He took out a medicine box from his pocket, dipped his fingertips in the glistening white ointment, and asked, "Is it still very painful today?" He gently stroked the marks, his warm palm resting against Su Zhelan's waist.
Su Zhelan shook his head slightly, the tips of his ears glowing faintly red under the light: "It's better." He obediently tilted his head back, letting Xiao Qiyun examine the bite marks on his neck. The ointment, with its cool fragrance, spread out in delicate ripples on his skin.
"You must take good care of yourself when you get back." Xiao Qiyun's voice was low and deep, his fingertips tracing circles on the bruises. "It was my fault... I'm so sorry..."
Su Zhelan suddenly reached out and pressed her hand to his lips: "No need to say it." The candlelight flickered in his eyes, "There's no need for these things between us."
Before dawn, Xiao Qiyun arrived at Su Zhelan's tent, his feet brushing against the morning dew. He quietly lifted the curtain and entered, finding Su Zhelan still asleep on the bed, her long, dark hair spread across the pillow, her eyes shrouded in faint shadows.
Xiao Qiyun knelt down beside the bed, gently brushing away the stray hairs from Su Zhelan's forehead with his fingertips: "It's time to set off." His voice was extremely low, as if afraid of disturbing the morning light. Su Zhelan frowned in her sleep, unconsciously moving closer to the source of warmth.
As he carefully lifted the quilt, Xiao Qiyun paused—the loose collar of Su Zhelan's nightgown still bore the bruises from yesterday. He remained silent for a moment, then gently wrapped her in the quilt and blankets, his arms steadily supporting her knees and back. Su Zhelan felt as light as a feather in his arms, her breath carrying the scent of medicine.
The carriage was already prepared, with thick plush cushions laid out inside. Xiao Qiyun settled him among the soft pillows and carefully tucked in the fox fur quilt. Su Zhelan opened his eyes slightly amidst the jolting, and through his blurry vision saw Xiao Qiyun bending down to tidy his hair: "Sleep, I'll wake you when we arrive."
As dawn broke, the sunlight filtered through the felt curtains of the carriage, casting a hazy gray-blue hue inside.
Su Zhelan awoke during the steady journey, lying on a thick tiger-skin rug and covered with Xiao Qiyun's dark cloak. A heater was fixed in one corner of the carriage, and the medicinal soup simmering there made a soft bubbling sound.
He sat up slightly and saw Xiao Qiyun's back as he rode through the swaying curtain. The man's black armor was covered in frost in the morning mist, yet he maintained a speed parallel to the carriage window, his reins were held very steadily, and even the sound of the stirrups striking each other was soft.
"Awake?" Xiao Qiyun's voice suddenly came from outside the carriage, clear and refreshing like morning dew. He spurred his horse closer to the window and handed over a warm copper pot. "Freshly boiled honey water, to soothe your throat."
When Su Zhelan took it, she felt the coldness of his wristband: "You've been riding a horse the whole time?"
"It's alright." Xiao Qiyun bent down to adjust his slipped cloak. "We'll reach the post station in two more hours." His gaze swept over Su Zhelan's still pale face. "If you feel unwell from the journey, just let me know."
When the convoy went over a slope, it bumped a little. Xiao Qiyun immediately reined in his horse, leaned close to the window, and reached out to steady the swaying medicine pot.
At midday, the convoy took a break, and Xiao Qiyun lifted the carriage curtain to hand over a food box. Pickled plums were laid out on top of glutinous rice, with a bowl of warm ginseng soup beside it. "Make do with this," he said, lightly touching Su Zhelan's wrist with his fingertips, "It's not as refined as what you get at the manor."
Su Zhelan's fingertips trembled slightly as she took the food box, and she asked in a low voice, "How far are we from the vassal king's territory?"
Xiao Qiyun helped him straighten his slipped fox fur coat: "We've already crossed the border, don't worry." His gaze swept over the dark lines on Su Zhelan's face, "Is the painting making you uncomfortable?"
"Thinking about seeing my master and the others..." Su Zhelan took out a small jade bottle from her sleeve, "It's better to wipe it off."
Upon hearing this, Xiao Qiyun immediately dismounted. As he lifted the curtain and slipped into the carriage, a slight chill wafted in, but it was quickly melted into mist by the heat from the heater. He took the medicine from Su Zhelan and poured it onto a cotton handkerchief.
"Close your eyes." Xiao Qiyun's voice was close at hand, his warm breath brushing against Su Zhelan's forehead. A cotton handkerchief soaked in medicine carefully wiped Mo Wen's face, from her brow to her cheekbone, the movements carrying a sense of care. Su Zhelan could feel his fingertips occasionally brushing against her skin, the touch even hotter than the cotton handkerchief.
When he reached the side of her neck, Xiao Qiyun paused for a moment: "Does it... still hurt here?" His fingertips unconsciously traced the fading bite mark. Su Zhelan gently shook her head, and the ink-black water that was gradually melting flowed down her neck, which Xiao Qiyun carefully wiped away with a handkerchief.
A gust of wind blew past the car window, swirling up a few withered leaves that landed on the curtain.
Xiao Qiyun cupped Su Zhelan's face in his hands and examined her carefully, making sure all the ink marks had been wiped away, before sighing softly, "It's still more reassuring to see her like this."
Su Zhelan gently patted Xiao Qiyun's hand, a tender smile playing on her lips: "Hurry up and eat, the food's getting cold."
Su Zhelan took out the celadon dishes one by one from the food box and arranged them on the small table in the carriage. One dish of thinly sliced golden-yellow chicken slices was drizzled with amber-colored sauce; another dish of bright green pickled lettuce shreds was mixed with sesame seeds; next to it were two bowls of glistening rice, the steam carrying the aroma of rice rising gently.
Xiao Qiyun took the ebony chopsticks, picked up a piece of chicken and placed it in Su Zhelan's bowl: "I asked the chef to make it a little lighter." The chicken trembled slightly at the tips of the chopsticks, and the sauce slid down the edge of the porcelain bowl.
Su Zhelan smiled and lowered his head, his eyelashes casting dappled shadows beneath his eyes. He picked up a spoon and scooped up a spoonful of shredded lettuce, carefully spreading it over Xiao Qiyun's rice: "Your Highness, try this. It's refreshing and helps cut through the greasiness." The tangy aroma of the lettuce mingled with the toasted fragrance of sesame seeds, filling the carriage.
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