Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The servants outside the courtyard gate whispered: "...Have you heard? That seriously injured young man, yesterday Mr. Su Yan bathed and changed his clothes. Tsk tsk, after cleaning him up, we realized that his face was even more handsome than the beauties in the paintings..."
“That’s right! When I delivered the medicine yesterday, I saw that his left eye could open, but his right eye was still covered with a bandage…” These words were like a pebble thrown into a pond, and happened to fall into the ears of Sheng Xuan who was passing by.
He had just been urged by his personal guards to go to the front camp for a meeting and was about to return to his room to rest when he heard "cleaned up" and "more handsome than a portrait of a beauty," and his steps inexplicably halted. A strange, irritating possessiveness rose within him—why was that kid being discussed like an exhibit?
I recall the boy being carried into the mansion, covered in mud and blood, barely alive, when we first met—the hideous, pale purple composite scar on the back of his neck stood out starkly against the bloodstains, and beneath the twisted burn marks, the outline of a brand could be vaguely discerned.
He chuckled and, as if possessed, turned toward the side gate of Shuyu Courtyard.
"Oh, isn't this the Second Young Master?" Su Yan looked up and saw the silver-armored figure by the door frame, deliberately raising his voice, "Not practicing your spear today, are you switching to being a spy?"
Sheng Xuan's thoughts were exposed, and his face flushed. He walked in with his neck stiff and said, "This young master was just passing by!" Before he finished speaking, his gaze fell on the young man on the couch.
After a few days, the mud and scabs on Su Zhelan's face had faded, revealing skin that was almost transparently pale. Her nose was straight and her lips were clearly defined. Although she appeared weak due to her injuries, her handsome features were still evident.
Su Zhelan seemed to sense his gaze, her left eyelashes trembled slightly, and she shrank closer to Xiao Qiyun. This appearance, however, only made Sheng Xuan more agitated.
"Have you looked enough?" Su Yan placed the medicine bowl heavily on the table. "If you're really free, why don't you go help me dry the mugwort I just picked?"
Sheng Xuan then came to his senses and realized that he had been staring at the other person for a long time, and his ears instantly burned.
He immediately looked away, pretending to examine the furnishings in the room: "Who's looking at him! It's just... look how dirty you've made my yard." But his gaze couldn't help but drift back to Su Zhelan, feeling inexplicably annoyed.
"The person who came is Sheng Xuan, the second young master of the General's Mansion." Xiao Qiyun sat on the edge of the bed and introduced Su Zhelan in a gentle voice, casually tucking the stray hairs behind his ear.
His fingertips deliberately paused for half a second on Su Zhelan's earlobe, as if marking territory. When his gaze swept over the gauze on the back of Su Zhelan's neck, a barely perceptible coldness flashed in his eyes—this scar must hold a secret he didn't know.
Su Zhelan blinked her left eye, the murky light shimmering on Sheng Xuan's silver armor before returning to Xiao Qiyun's face, clearly unable to discern who the newcomer was.
Seeing his bewildered expression, Sheng Xuan's prepared sarcastic remarks suddenly stuck in her throat, and she turned to leave.
"Take care, Second Young Master." Su Yan's voice was filled with laughter. "If you want to see it next time, just come in. There's no need to eavesdrop outside the wall."
Sheng Xuan paused, nearly tripping on the threshold.
He glared fiercely at the tightly closed courtyard gate, but as he turned around, he secretly touched his burning earlobe.
Two more plum blossoms bloomed on the old plum tree outside the corridor, their pink and white petals falling onto his silver armor shoulder plate.
Meanwhile, Su Zhelan, who was on the couch, was looking towards the door with her left eye. Although she could only see a blurry silver shadow, she inexplicably felt that the shadow's footsteps were a little lighter than the day before.
A barely perceptible smile curved his lips—this person's concern was easier to provoke than one might imagine.
Xiao Qiyun watched as Su Zhelan's left eye followed the silver shadow at the door without blinking, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the edge of the book pages, and suddenly snapped the book shut.
As the scent of ink mingled with the aroma of medicine, he pulled a palm-sized pearwood box from his sleeve. Lifting the lid revealed a warm, lustrous mutton-fat jade pendant, exquisitely carved with auspicious cloud patterns. In the center, a black jade bead was inlaid, shimmering with a deep luster under the light.
"This jade pendant is warm and smooth; I think it might calm the mind." Xiao Qiyun gently placed the jade pendant in Su Zhelan's hand, his fingertips deliberately rubbing against Su Zhelan's palm. "Wear it close to your body."
Su Zhelan's fingertips touched the cool jade, and she curled her hand in a daze. There was a faint light flickering behind the pterygium of her left eye. Although she couldn't see the shape of the jade pendant, she could feel the rounded curve of her palm.
He turned his head, his ears twitching slightly, as if trying to discern the subtle stubbornness in Xiao Qiyun's voice. He deliberately gripped the jade pendant tighter, his fingertips caressing the black jade through the openwork—Xiao Qiyun's gesture of goodwill carried an undeniable desire for control, which was rather intriguing.
The next day, Su Yan sat in front of the medicine furnace with his sleeves rolled up. The sound of the pestle grinding the herbs was regular and dull. In the rising medicinal mist, the dark circles under his eyes were even deeper. Gu Linzhao had been summoned to the front camp for a meeting by Sheng Chi that morning. He was told to conduct an investigation. Before leaving, he left a note telling Su Yan to make sure to take a break.
"Sir, the medicine is almost boiled dry." Su Zhelan, who was on the soft couch, suddenly spoke. His voice was soft but clearer than before. The pterygium in his left eye was a little thinner, and he could barely make out Su Yan's busy figure moving back and forth between the medicine stove and the table.
"I understand." Su Yan didn't even look up, and reached into the stove to add a piece of silver charcoal. "Just bear with it a little longer. This medicine will suppress the poison, and you won't feel so bad anymore."
Before he could finish speaking, familiar footsteps suddenly came from outside the courtyard gate—heavy as if stepping on ice, but they paused at the threshold, with a deliberate slowing down of hesitation.
Su Yan's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile as he deliberately raised his voice: "If you're here, come in. What are you waiting for? You're just standing outside and getting nothing."
Sheng Xuan, his whereabouts exposed, reluctantly lifted the bamboo curtain. Today he wasn't wearing his silver armor, but only a dark blue, arrow-sleeved outfit that allowed him to move around easily. The sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and were still covered with grass clippings and dust from his morning exercise. Inexplicably, he was clutching an oil paper package in his hand—the candied plums that Su Yan had given him the day before, with only two pieces left.
"I... was just passing by!" he said stiffly, but his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the soft couch.
When his gaze fell on Su Zhelan's slender neck outlined by her clothes, his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily—this guy was indeed more alluring than the beauties in the painting studio.
What Sheng Xuan was most concerned about was his left eye, which was slightly open at the moment. Although he couldn't see the figure clearly, he turned to him blankly like a young deer.
"Just passing by?" Su Yan filtered the brewed medicine into a porcelain bowl, picked up the bowl, and said, "Perfect timing, feed me my medicine."
"Me?" Sheng Xuan looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "You want me to feed him? Didn't you see me, young master..."
"What did I see? I saw you just sitting there doing nothing." Su Yan shoved the medicine bowl into his hands without giving him a chance to argue. "Instead of standing here getting in the way, you might as well do something useful." He pointed to Su Zhelan's chapped lips. "Warm it up before feeding him. If you burn him, I'll skin you alive."
Sheng Xuan noticed Su Zhelan's chapped lower lips twitching unconsciously, and his ears instantly flushed red. He moved the medicine bowl to the bedside, the bottom of the celadon bowl tapping softly on the pear wood table, the splashed medicine leaving dark brown stains on the table.
"How clumsy!" Su Yan turned around from beside the medicine furnace and saw him scrambling around. "Help him lean against something first!"
Sheng Xuan then reached out his left hand and placed it behind Su Zhelan's shoulder. As soon as his fingertips touched the bony shoulder blades under the cotton robe, the boy flinched at the sudden touch.
“…Sit still.” Sheng Xuan managed to utter two words, but his right hand quickly reached for the headboard and stacked up three or four brocade pillows. As he supported Su Zhelan’s lower back and lifted her up, his fingertips brushed against her side.
The soft, warm touch from his fingertips sent a shiver down his spine, and he instinctively softened his movements slightly. Su Zhelan obediently leaned back on the pillow, gazing blankly towards his chest.
The warmth of the medicine bowl traveled through the porcelain wall to my palm, and the bitter smell of the medicine hit my nasal cavity.
Sheng Xuan stared at Su Zhelan's slightly parted lips, and suddenly remembered what the servant had said about him being "more handsome than a beauty in a painting," and the heat that had just subsided on his face surged up again.
He awkwardly lowered his eyes, scooped up the medicine with a silver spoon, and blew on it as Xiao Qiyun usually did. However, due to his distraction, his wrist was unsteady, and half a spoonful of medicine slid down the edge of the spoon and choked Su Zhelan in the throat.
"Cough, cough cough..." Su Zhelan suddenly arched her body, her left hand gripping the bed sheet tightly, her knuckles turning white.
The knife wound on his left shoulder throbbed with pain from the coughing, the newly formed scab burst open, and dark red blood seeped into the bandage. He bit his lower lip hard because of the intense pain, and a broken gasp escaped from his throat. His thin shoulders trembled violently, and even the scar on the back of his neck bulged slightly due to the tension in his muscles.
Su Zhelan deliberately didn't catch her breath immediately. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Sheng Xuan's momentary panic in her eyes, and a calculating thought flashed through her mind—this reaction was worth testing further.
"What's going on?!" Su Yan stormed in, pestle in hand, smoke still swirling from the medicine furnace behind him. "Second Young Master, is your hand holding a gun or a hoe? You can choke someone to death just by feeding them medicine!"
He snatched the medicine bowl in three quick steps, but when he saw Su Zhelan's reddened eyes, he paused and glared at the helpless Sheng Xuan.
"I……"
Sheng Xuan opened his mouth to defend himself, but saw Su Zhelan panting as she gently tugged at Su Yan's sleeve, her voice hoarse: "It's not his fault... I just didn't swallow properly." The boy's eyelashes were still glistening with physiological tears.
When he looked up, the light from his left eye fell precisely on Sheng Xuan's flustered face, carrying just the right amount of innocence.
Su Yan glared at Sheng Xuan, then turned around impatiently at the bubbling sound coming from the medicine furnace before shoving the handkerchief into Sheng Xuan's hand: "Wipe his mouth! If the medicine gets on his wound, you'll be in trouble!"
He poked the rim of the medicine bowl with the pestle, speaking rapidly like a machine gun, "Feed him with the side of a spoon, half a spoonful each time! Otherwise, he'll choke—"
Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by the hissing sound of the medicine pot overflowing. Su Yan cursed, "Damn it!" As he turned around, the hem of his robe swept across the medicine bowl, and the medicine splashed onto the edge of the table, creating tiny patterns: "Keep feeding! After you're done, pour the dregs into the east corner!"
Before the words were even finished, she had already rushed back to the medicine stove, the sound of iron tongs crackling and snapping through the air as they gripped the charcoal. Sheng Xuan froze on the spot, clutching the warm handkerchief, her fingertips touching the subtle embroidered "Su" character pattern on the fabric.
Su Zhelan tilted his head toward the medicine furnace and listened for a moment. Suddenly, he said in an almost inaudible breath, "Thank you for your trouble, young general." A light breath escaped his throat, and the tears that had welled up in his left eye from coughing had not yet faded. The tear on his eyelash trembled.
The word "Little General" was uttered softly and gently, like a feather tickling Shengxuan's heart.
“Master…” The boy paused, his brows furrowing as if the injury to his shoulder had been aggravated, but he still managed a forced smile. “His words are venomous, but his heart is soft. He may not be very kind, but don’t take it to heart.”
He deliberately smoothed things over for Su Yan, but in reality, he was trying to get closer to Sheng Xuan—the more people who cared, the more leverage he had.
Sheng Xuan looked down at the fleeting smile on his pale face and suddenly felt the handkerchief in her palm weigh as heavy as a thousand pounds.
He took a deep breath, held his breath, and leaned closer. The moment the edge of the handkerchief touched the medicine stain on Su Zhelan's lips, the boy instinctively flinched.
"Don't move." Sheng Xuan's voice was hoarser than he had expected. He moistened a clean corner of a handkerchief with warm water and gently wiped Su Zhelan's lips. As his fingertips brushed against her chapped lips, Sheng Xuan's Adam's apple bobbed violently.
The restlessness in my heart suddenly turned into another unfamiliar emotion, and I wanted to stain my lips with my own scent.
The medicine in the bowl was still steaming. Sheng Xuan blew on it repeatedly, and when he handed the silver spoon to Su Zhelan's lips, he deliberately scraped off the excess medicine with the edge of the spoon.
Sheng Xuan slowly fed the last spoonful of medicine into Su Zhelan's mouth. As the silver spoon was withdrawn, the boy subconsciously pursed his lips, his brows furrowing slightly from the bitterness of the medicine.
Sheng Xuan looked at his pale lower lip and suddenly remembered the crumpled oil paper packet in her sleeve pocket. Just as her fingertips touched the sticky texture of the candied plums, Su Zhelan tilted her head and asked softly, "Have you finished your medicine...?"
"Hmm." Sheng Xuan's Adam's apple bobbed as he picked up the last plum and brought it to Su Zhelan's lips. "Open your mouth and taste this to mask the bitterness." The deep pink flesh glistened in the sunlight, and the syrup seeped through her fingers like drops of rouge falling on the snow.
He deliberately pushed his finger forward, the tip almost touching Su Zhelan's lips—wanting to see if Su Zhelan would get angry.
Su Zhelan opened her mouth blankly, her tongue touching the sweet and sour fruit, and her teeth brushing against Sheng Xuan's fingertips. The two froze at the same time. Su Zhelan's eyelashes trembled, and she deliberately swept her tongue lightly across Sheng Xuan's fingertips, as if testing the boundaries.
Sheng Xuan hurriedly pulled her hand away, her fingertips still sticky with fruit pulp, her heart pounding wildly.
"Oh, when did the Second Young Master learn to be so chivalrous?" Su Yan turned around from beside the medicine stove, carrying a freshly brewed potion. The copper spoon tapped crisply against the porcelain bowl.
"They've even prepared candied plums. They're more thoughtful than I am, their master." The sugar syrup on Sheng Xuan's fingertips seemed to carry a scorching heat. As if someone had exposed his secret, he shrank back, and the oil paper package fell to the ground with a "thud."
Su Zhelan, with a plum in her mouth, tried to speak, but the sweet and sour taste of the fruit made her cough lightly, and faint bloodstains seeped from the bandage on her shoulder.
Su Yan quickly stepped forward and pressed his shoulder down. He noticed the sugar frosting on the boy's lips and suddenly chuckled, "Well done, Sheng Xuan. You know how to take care of people even better than His Highness."
As Sheng Xuan bent down to pick up the paper package, the ends of her hair brushed against Su Zhelan's knees, and she smelled the faint scent of mugwort on the hem of his clothes.
When Sheng Xuan straightened up, a blush had spread from his ears to the side of his neck. He hurriedly looked away—not daring to look at Su Yan's mischievous smile, and even less daring to look at the clear, glossy sheen of sugar on Su Zhelan's lips when she lowered her eyes.
She crumpled the oil paper package even more with her fingertips and stammered, "You, you rest... I'll come again tomorrow."
After saying that, he shoved the paper package into his clothes, but bumped into the jade pendant at his waist and it clattered against the medicine cabinet. As he turned around, the hem of his robe knocked over the base of the copper gourd. With a clang, he tripped over the threshold with his left foot and almost stumbled out the door.
Sheng Xuan ran to within three zhang of the corridor before abruptly stopping. With his back pressed against the cool pillar, he was startled to realize that his earlobes were still burning hot, and the lingering sweetness of plums mixed with sweat on his palms made his fingers feel sticky and astringent.
A breeze carrying the scent of herbs swept by, and he vaguely smelled the mugwort scent on Su Zhelan's clothes again. His Adam's apple bobbed heavily—when he was feeding the plums earlier, the sugar frosting on Su Zhelan's lips glistened in the sunlight, making them look even sweeter than the plums he had been hiding for half a month.
Suddenly, the wind picked up in the distance. Sheng Xuan hurriedly reached into the paper package in his clothes. When he pulled out the last plum, the oil paper package was already half-transparent from the sweat on his palms, and the deep pink flesh glistened with honey in the sunlight.
He took a bite, and as the sweet and sour flavor exploded on his tongue, he suddenly remembered when Su Zhelan opened his mouth earlier—the boy's lips had brushed against his fingertips, so soft and warm.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed the remaining half of the plum whole. The sugar frosting stuck between his teeth, and he could even taste a hint of mugwort mixed with the medicinal aroma. He rubbed the corner of his lips with his fingertip, where there seemed to be traces of medicine left from when he was given the medicine.
The wind rang the copper bells of Shuyu Courtyard in the distance, and the "ding-a-ling" startled him, causing the heat that had just subsided on his face to rise again. He hurriedly turned around and walked back to his own courtyard.
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