Chapter 39
The night dew was so heavy it bent the canvas of the tent. Only three oil lamps remained in the medical tent, their flames flickering in the wind.
Su Zhelan had just finished changing the dressing on the last wounded soldier, and before she could even wipe the blood off her fingertips, Gu Linzhao grabbed her wrist.
"Take a break." Gu Linzhao placed a warm ceramic bowl in his hands. It contained freshly warmed rice porridge, with some medicine residue still clinging to the rim. "I'll watch over you. You can lean against it for a while."
Su Zhelan shook his head, placed the bowl on the stone platform, and bent down to gather the scattered silver needles. Moonlight leaked in through the gaps in the tent, making the dark circles under his eyes particularly clear.
"Are you tired?" Gu Linzhao squatted down beside him, tidying up the scattered medicine packets for him. The cuffs of his black outfit were stained with dried medicine. "If you can't hold on, come back to the General's Mansion with me. I'll talk to Sheng Chi."
Su Zhelan paused, and when he looked up, the light from the oil lamp shimmered like tiny stars in his pupils. "Not tired."
He suddenly smiled, the curve of his lips was very slight, but more genuine than during the day, "It feels more at ease here...".
Gu Linzhao looked at the light in his eyes, then suddenly reached out and ruffled his hair, his fingertips brushing against his sweaty scalp: "You brat, you're just as stubborn as your master."
The helplessness in his tone concealed tenderness, just like when Su Yan had forced himself to stitch up his wounds years ago, and he had scolded him in the same way. "I'll go back to the manor tomorrow morning."
He stood up, patted Su Zhelan's shoulder with a light touch, and said, "With Ayan's personality, he'll definitely stay up all night if he's not with someone. I have to go back and keep an eye on him."
Su Zhelan lowered her head, her fingertips gripping the wrapper of the silver needle, the corner of the paper crumpled from her grip. "Hmm."
"Take care of yourself." Gu Linzhao walked to the tent entrance, then looked back and saw Su Zhelan carefully arranging the sterilized silver needles into a brocade box, her movements as meticulous as if she were handling a precious treasure, before lifting the curtain and going out.
In the instant the canvas swayed, Su Zhelan heard him mutter under his breath, "If you dare to act recklessly, come back and have your master prick you with needles..."
The footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only the crackling of the oil lamp inside the tent.
Su Zhelan put the last silver needle into the box, and suddenly felt the medicine bottle in her sleeve pocket—it was the Qingxin Pill that Su Yan had given her before he left, saying it was to prevent the Gu poison from attacking the heart.
He poured out a pill and put it in his mouth. The bitter taste of the medicine spread on his tongue, but strangely it suppressed his fatigue.
The night wind blew into the tent, carrying the footsteps of patrolling soldiers in the distance. Su Zhelan looked at the rising and falling breathing sounds inside the tent and suddenly felt that this place, full of blood and the smell of medicine, had become his most secure refuge at this moment.
Gu Linzhao will leave tomorrow, and he will have to take care of these wounded soldiers alone.
Su Zhelan lowered his head and smiled, his fingertips brushing against the brass lock on the medicine box. The lock reflected the light in his eyes, shining like a needle that had been quenched in fire.
Meanwhile, the general's mansion was also kept brightly lit.
The sandalwood incense curled into wisps of smoke in the bronze incense burner. Xiao Qiyun twirled a newly opened secret letter between his fingertips; the edge of the letter was still stained with some ash from the post station.
"Can't find out?" When he looked up, the candlelight flickered coldly in his eyes, and his fingertips crumpled the letter. "You can't even find out which forest he was practicing medicine in before he entered the General's Mansion?"
The scout knelt on one knee on the blue brick, his forehead touching the ground, his voice trembling: "Your Highness, Su Zhelan... Su Zhelan's whereabouts seem to have been deliberately erased. There is no such person in the household register, and there is no similar portrait in the list of itinerant doctors. Only... only from the old madam in the south of the city, I learned that many years ago, Su Yan did indeed redeem a half-grown child from human traffickers, saying that he felt sorry for him and took him back to teach him medicine."
"Human traffickers?" Xiao Qiyun's knuckles tapped on the table, making a "thump-thump" sound that inexplicably overlapped with the footsteps of the patrolling soldiers outside the tent. "Which hideout? Are the human traffickers still there?"
“That den was wiped out before the New Year. The ringleaders…” The scout paused, his voice lowering, ““They supposedly died in prison, as if they were poisoned by a curse, bleeding from all seven orifices. The coroner who performed the autopsy was terrified.”
The sandalwood incense suddenly choked him, and Xiao Qiyun coughed twice. When he pressed the handkerchief to his lips, his fingertips touched something icy cold.
A few years ago, a human trafficking den, Su Yan redeemed people, and used Gu poison to silence witnesses... These fragments, like scattered caltrops, seem unrelated, yet they subtly hint at the shadow of a "cult".
He recalled the burn scar on the back of Su Zhelan's neck, which was covered by the burn, and the "holy son" shouted by the men in black at the temple fair. His fingertips unconsciously dug into his palm.
"Continue the investigation." Xiao Qiyun threw the secret letter into the candle flame, and the flame leaped up, licking the words "human traffickers" to ashes. "Investigate where Su Yan got the money to redeem people back then, and investigate the connection between that den and the cult in Southern Xinjiang. Remember, the quieter the better."
The scout accepted the order and withdrew, the sound of his boots rolling over the floor tiles fading at the end of the corridor.
Xiao Qiyun stood alone by the window, gazing in the direction of Shuyu Courtyard—where the bamboo gate was tightly closed, and the blue cloth cover was stained with the pink of peach petals.
He had initially thought Su Zhelan's evasiveness stemmed from her humble origins, but now it seemed she was hiding a secret far deeper than that of a "quack doctor." That old fox, Su Yan, probably knew something from the very beginning, which is why he protected her so meticulously.
“Ze Lan…” He stroked the jade pendant, the candlelight casting dappled shadows on the token. “Who exactly are you?”
Xiao Qiyun locked the token back in the hidden compartment, the cool bronze still lingering on his fingertips—it seemed that investigation alone wasn't enough to find the answer. He had to go to the military camp himself and see what that boy hiding in the stench of blood was trying to escape.
The silver armor was thrown beside the couch, and the black undergarment was crumpled like a wad of paper.
Sheng Xuan turned over, kicking the bed curtains so they swayed and moonlight streamed in.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, kicking over the copper basin at his feet.
Water was splashed onto the blue bricks, and the water droplets soaked the soles of his boots, much like the tears that Su Zhelan shed on the back of his hand in the peach grove.
Is it because of myself?
Sheng Xuan sat up abruptly, his silver crown slamming against the table with a crisp sound. He remembered that kiss—Su Zhelan's lips were soft, yet trembled like a falling leaf when he approached; he remembered the panic in her eyes when he shouted "I like you."
"Am I that scary?" He loosened his collar, his Adam's apple bobbing loudly. He was clearly trying to protect her, so how did it turn into coercion?
The clapper outside the window struck the third watch, and the footsteps of patrolling soldiers passed through the corridor. Sheng Xuan suddenly threw off the covers, grabbed the cloak draped over the chair, and walked out—he was going to the military camp, even if it was just to catch a glimpse from afar, to see if Su Zhelan was truly safe.
The third watch gong had just sounded when Sheng Xuan's silver armor clashed against the pillars of the corridor with a piercing clang. He still clutched the lapis lazuli forehead chain in his hand. His guards blocked the moon gate, and the sound of clashing armor startled the night herons roosting under the eaves.
"Get out of the way." Sheng Xuan's voice was icy, and the beast patterns on the breastplate gleamed coldly in the moonlight.
His boots rolled over the scattered swords of his guards, the sound of the blades scraping against the blue bricks was just like the sound of Su Zhelan's skirt brushing against the grass when she dodged him in the peach grove.
“Second Young Master, General Sheng Chi has ordered that during the military camp's martial law period, no one is allowed to leave without permission.” The guard knelt on one knee, his forehead touching the ground, but his back was straight—this was Xiao Qiyun’s special instruction half an hour ago, saying, “If the Second Young Master wants to go out, there is no need to stop him by force, just delay him for a quarter of an hour.”
Sheng Xuan's anger surged up instantly, and his silver spear clattered to the ground, its tip digging half an inch into a crack in the brickwork. Just as he was about to raise his spear and start fighting, he heard a soft rustling sound of fabric behind him.
Xiao Qiyun was wearing a cloak, and the ink on the pages of the book was still wet, clearly indicating that he had been woken up.
He stood outside the lantern's glow, half his face shrouded in shadow, only his tightly pursed lips visible: "Where is the Second Young Master going? Breaking into a military camp in the dead of night, are you trying to get Su Zhelan kicked out by Sheng Chi tomorrow for 'disrupting military discipline'?"
"Stop pretending." Sheng Xuan turned around abruptly, the tip of her gun almost brushing against Xiao Qiyun's collar. "If you hadn't been bothering him every day, would he have hidden away in a place like that?"
Xiao Qiyun closed the book, his voice as calm as a frozen lake: "At least I won't be like some people who scare people into running away in the middle of the night with a reckless kiss."
When he looked up, his eyelashes cast dappled shadows beneath his eyes. "You think Zelan is hiding from me? He's hiding from you—he can't bear that weight."
"Bullshit!" Sheng Xuan suddenly raised the tip of his spear, which was only three inches away from Xiao Qiyun's throat.
The guards drew their swords with a "whoosh," but Xiao Qiyun stopped them by raising his hand.
"What? Are you so angry you want to kill someone?" Xiao Qiyun's fingertips lightly brushed the edge of the book's pages, where a peach petal was still tucked—it was left on the stone table by Su Zhelan before she left, and he had casually slipped it into the book.
“Do you think Zelan will come back if you kill me? He’s in the army doctor’s tent now, and he probably hasn’t even forgotten your name.”
These words were like a poisoned dagger, piercing Sheng Xuan's weak spot with pinpoint accuracy.
The silver spear clattered to the ground. Sheng Xuan's clenched fist, veins bulging, pressed his knuckles against Xiao Qiyun's chest with such force it felt like he was about to shove him into the carved railing of the corridor: "I'm warning you, if he suffers even the slightest grievance in the military camp..."
“What grievances he suffered have none of your concern?” Xiao Qiyun’s fingertip poked at Sheng Xuan’s wrist bone, where red marks from gripping the gun still remained. “If you rush over now, it will only make him pack up and flee to an even more remote outpost tomorrow.”
Their breaths mingled, carrying the lingering scent of gunpowder.
The lantern light flickered on their faces, illuminating Sheng Xuan's reddened eyes and Xiao Qiyun's tightly pursed lips—it turned out they were the same; knowing that Su Zhelan didn't want to fight, they still couldn't help but vent their resentment on each other, as if that would alleviate their helplessness.
"Get out." Sheng Xuan abruptly released his grip, and as he turned around, his silver armor swept across the pillars, causing the lanterns to shake violently. "Don't let me see you again."
Escape... It turns out that in Su Zhelan's eyes, she was someone she needed to escape from.
Sheng Xuan turned and went back to her room. As her cloak swept across the threshold, the wind it created carried away the last bit of moonlight.
The curtains fell again, trapping him in darkness. His fingertips repeatedly traced the lapis lazuli necklace until the first light of dawn appeared, then he spoke in a hoarse voice to the air:
"I won't make a fuss anymore... Please come back."
Birdsong began to rise outside the window, and bugle calls came from the direction of the military camp.
Shengxuan tucked the forehead chain into his pocket and pressed it against his heart, where his heart was pounding rapidly and erratically, as if hiding an unspoken apology and a "I'm worried about you" that he was afraid the wind would blow away.
Xiao Qiyun watched his staggering figure, then suddenly chuckled softly, a laugh tinged with self-mockery.
The night breeze carried the fragrance of osmanthus through the corridor. Xiao Qiyun tucked the forehead chain into his sleeve pocket, his fingertips touching something cool—it was the jade pendant that Su Zhelan had left in Shuyu Courtyard, with a faint "Su" engraved on it.
He stroked the patterns on the card.
As I turned to go back to my room, I heard faint bugle calls coming from the direction of the military camp, colliding with the drumbeats from the general's mansion, creating a chaotic mess like an untangled tangle of threads.
As the horn sounded at dawn, breaking through the morning mist, Su Zhelan was already squatting in the mud, sorting through his third basket of herbs. The bloody water in the copper basin had been replaced five times. The scabs on his fingertips scabbed over and were rubbed off again, the bitter taste of the coptis root mixed with the bitterness of the herbal decoction, which was more invigorating than any calming pill.
"Dr. Su Zhelan! A soldier from the northern outpost has been sent over, infected with malaria!" The auxiliary soldier's shout burst open the tent flap, carrying the chill of the northern frontier. Su Zhelan looked up in response and saw that the soldier on the stretcher was cyanotic all over, his lips were as black as ink, and his breathing was as weak as a candle flickering in the wind.
"Take ephedra and aconite!" Su Zhelan's voice was even more steady than the wind outside the tent. She rummaged through her medicine box and pulled out silver needles, precisely inserting them into the "Guanyuan" and "Qihai" acupoints.
The old physician Li Shuyang handed over some strong liquor and watched as Su Zhelan pierced the soldier's fingertip with a silver needle, squeezing out black blood that splattered on the back of his hand. He didn't even flinch—this kid's eyes had been filled with a sharp edge after just a few days apart, thanks to the medicinal aroma.
Busy until noon, Su Zhelan finally managed to eat two mouthfuls of coarse rice, swallowing them with purslane soup. Outside the tent came the shouts of training. Watching the wounded soldiers' breathing gradually stabilize, he suddenly felt that the bamboo shadows of the general's mansion, the bright red silk, Xiao Qiyun's jade pendant... all seemed as distant as things from a past life.
"Kid, this elderberry powder will last until next month." Fu Zhi tossed over an oil paper packet containing dried medicinal powder. "Come with me to the back mountain to gather herbs this afternoon? The 'Penetrating Bone Grass' there has just sprouted."
Su Zhelan took the paper package, her fingertips touching the rough cardboard, and suddenly smiled: "Okay."
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