Chapter 63
Shengxuan's shoulder blade wound has scabbed over. Although there is still some pulling pain when she moves, it is nothing compared to the excruciating pain she experienced before.
He leaned back on the soft couch, unconsciously stroking his sash with his hands, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the gray sky outside the window.
The door was pushed open, and Sheng Chi walked in, bringing with him a slightly chilly aura, carrying as usual a bowl of warm medicine. He took off his snow-covered cloak, walked to the bedside, and placed the medicine bowl on a small table.
"How are you feeling today?" Sheng Chi's voice was gentler than usual, carrying the concern that comes with being an elder brother.
Sheng Xuan slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on Sheng Chi's face, without looking at the bowl of medicine. He was silent for a moment, his once arrogant but now much more subdued eyes filled with stubbornness and an almost pleading earnestness.
“Brother,” Sheng Xuan’s voice was soft, but carried an undeniable force, “Tell me the truth… Where is Zhe Lan?”
Sheng Chi's hand, which was about to hand over the medicine, froze in mid-air. He looked into Sheng Xuan's eyes, which were fixed on him. There was no longer the anger and suspicion in them, but a deep, almost overflowing worry and... a heavy, unmistakable emotion.
Sheng Chi's heart sank. He knew he couldn't hide it anymore. Sheng Xuan's injuries had healed, and his mind was sharper; any excuses would seem weak and ineffective. He avoided Sheng Xuan's burning gaze, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty, his voice low and hoarse, carrying a barely perceptible weariness:
"...He is at Shuyuyuan."
“Shuyu Courtyard?” Sheng Xuan’s brows furrowed instantly, and his voice rose a few decibels. “He’s back in the manor too? What happened to him? Is he sick? Is he injured?” A barrage of questions rained down on Sheng Chi.
Sheng Chi silently picked up the medicine bowl and gently stirred the dark brown liquid with a silver spoon, as if there was something in it that required his full attention. He dared not look into Sheng Xuan's eyes; the pure worry in them pierced him like needles.
“He…” Sheng Chi opened his mouth, but found his throat terribly dry. The deliberately concealed truths—the imprisonment in Hanshui Courtyard, the daily blood draws, Su Zhelan’s pale face and the hideous wound on her wrist—were like heavy lead blocks blocking his throat, almost suffocating him.
How could he say it? How could he tell Shengxuan that the medicine he drank every day, the medicine that saved his life, was made from the lifeblood of another young man? How could he tell him what kind of hell the person he regarded as his best friend, even... the person he cared about most, had endured because of him?
"Brother!" Seeing Sheng Chi remain silent and look strange, Sheng Xuan felt an even stronger sense of foreboding.
He sat bolt upright, ignoring the pain in his shoulder blade, and grabbed Sheng Chi's wrist, which was holding the bowl of medicine, with such force that the medicine inside shook! His voice was choked with sobs and unprecedented panic: "Tell me! What happened to him?! Is it...is it because of me? Is it because I...did I implicate him?!"
Sheng Chi's wrist ached from Sheng Xuan's grip. He felt the slight trembling of his younger brother's hand due to excitement, and saw the tears welling up in Sheng Xuan's eyes. His heart felt like it was being fried in oil.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his turbulent emotions, and slowly, with extreme difficulty, spoke, his voice as dry as sandpaper:
“He… is fine. He’s just resting.” He paused, his gaze falling on the dark brown medicine in the bowl, his expression extremely complicated, finally turning into a heavy sigh, filled with endless guilt and helplessness, “This time… it’s my… I’ve let him down.”
He raised his eyes to look at Sheng Xuan. His usually sharp and steady eyes were now filled with indescribable weariness and deep self-reproach: "It's because I... didn't do well enough. I made you worry."
He gently pulled his hand away from Sheng Xuan's and placed the medicine bowl steadily on the small table in front of her, his movements almost deliberately calm: "Don't overthink it. Su Zhelan... needs to rest. Drink your medicine first and take good care of your injuries."
He paused, his voice lowering.
After saying that, Sheng Chi didn't linger, and without even glancing at Sheng Xuan again, he turned and strode towards the door.
His tall figure appeared somewhat stiff in the warm light of the pavilion, and his steps were a bit faster than usual, as if something was chasing him from behind, making him eager to escape the suffocating questioning and the bowl of medicine that carried a huge secret.
Sheng Xuan sat blankly on the soft couch, staring at the bowl of medicine that was still steaming.
My brother's words, "I'm sorry to him," echoed in my ears like a curse, carrying a heavy weight and an unspeakable bitterness.
He reached out, his fingertips touching the warm bowl, but the temperature made his heart feel icy cold.
Zhelan is recuperating at Shuyu Courtyard... I'm so sorry, brother...
These two seemingly simple sentences were like a dull knife, repeatedly cutting into his heart, leaving countless fine, unhealable wounds. He vaguely sensed that beneath these calm words lay a huge secret he could not imagine, nor dared to think about.
He picked up the medicine bowl, the dark brown liquid reflecting his pale, bewildered face. He tilted his head back and drank the bitter medicine in one gulp.
That familiar smell of medicine now carried an unprecedented, nauseating stench of blood, sinking heavily into his stomach and into the depths of his confused and pained heart.
Shengxuan sat restlessly in the warm pavilion.
Sheng Chi's heavy words, "I'm sorry to him," and his evasive attitude gnawed at his heart like countless ants. Su Zhelan was recuperating in Shuyu Courtyard? Why was she recuperating? Why did his brother say he was sorry to him? Why was everyone keeping quiet? The suspicious pale red bloodstains on the rim of the bowl... These questions, like a tangled mess, disturbed his peace of mind, and the wound in his shoulder blade seemed to ache again.
He suddenly stood up and paced restlessly in the warm room.
The snow outside the window had stopped, and the sky was a gloomy gray, so oppressive it was hard to breathe. He couldn't wait any longer! He had to know the truth! Everything about Su Zhelan!
"Someone come here!" Sheng Xuan suddenly stopped and shouted sternly at the door.
A guard entered in response: "What are your orders, Second Young Master?"
"Go!" Sheng Xuan's voice carried an undeniable urgency and a hint of suppressed anger. "Please summon His Highness! Tell him... tell him I have urgent business to discuss! He must come immediately!"
The guards obeyed and left.
The wait felt incredibly long. Sheng Xuan sat back on the soft couch, her fingers unconsciously picking at the embroidery on the brocade quilt, her gaze fixed on the doorway. Every minute and every second seemed to stretch on endlessly.
He recalled the painful, contorted face of Su Zhelan when the Gu poison on the back of her neck flared up that night at the temple fair, the panic and worry that filled Su Zhelan's eyes before he lost consciousness, and the snippets of conversation he overheard after waking up about Su Zhelan being imprisoned and having her blood extracted... The more he thought about it, the more intense his anxiety and unease became!
Finally, familiar, steady footsteps came from outside the door.
Xiao Qiyun appeared at the door. He was still wearing a moon-white brocade robe, with a silver fox fur cloak over it, and his hair was covered with a few specks of snow, indicating that he had come in a hurry.
His face held its usual gentleness, but there was a hint of seriousness and...weariness between his brows.
"Shengxuan." Xiao Qiyun entered the warm pavilion, took off his cloak and handed it to the servant. His gaze fell on Shengxuan's tense face. "Why did you come to see me in such a hurry? Is your wound uncomfortable?" His voice was clear and gentle.
Sheng Xuan seemed not to hear his greeting. He suddenly stood up from the soft couch and rushed to Xiao Qiyun in a few steps. Because of the hasty movement, he aggravated the injury on his shoulder blade, and he frowned in pain, but he endured it.
He looked directly into Xiao Qiyun's eyes, those once arrogant eyes now burning with a burning fire and an unavoidable question:
"Xiao Qiyun! Tell me! What happened to Zhelan?!" Sheng Xuan's voice was sharp with urgency. "Is he in Shuyu Courtyard? Why is he recuperating? Is he injured? How badly is he injured? My brother... my brother said he was sorry to him, what did he mean by that?!"
He asked all the questions that had been weighing on his mind in one breath, his chest heaving violently, his eyes fixed on Xiao Qiyun, as if trying to find the answers on his face.
Looking at Sheng Xuan's anxious and almost out-of-control state, and seeing the undisguised worry and panic in his eyes, Xiao Qiyun sighed silently.
He knew everything, of course—Su Zhelan's background, her imprisonment in Hanshui Courtyard, the daily blood draws, Sheng Chi's remorse, and Su Yan's rage… but he couldn't speak. At least not now. Sheng Xuan's injuries were just beginning to heal, and in his turbulent state, if he were to learn that Su Zhelan had been nearly drained of her life force to save him, the consequences would be unimaginable.
“Shengxuan,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was still gentle, but with a soothing force. He raised his hand and gently pressed on Shengxuan’s uninjured shoulder, signaling him to calm down. “Sit down first. Your injury hasn’t fully healed yet, so you shouldn’t get excited.”
"How could I not be agitated?!" Sheng Xuan abruptly shoved Xiao Qiyun's hand away, her voice rising even higher, filled with the anger of being dismissed. "We made a promise! To find out Su Zhelan's background together! To help him get rid of all that mess! But what about now?! He's in Shuyu Academy! My brother is keeping quiet about it! And you're not saying a word either! Everyone's hiding it from me! Do you think I'm stupid?!"
He took a step closer, his bloodshot eyes almost spitting fire: "Xiao Qiyun! Tell me! Have you found out something?! Is Su Zhelan really... a member of a cult? Or... or did my brother and the others do something to him?!" He recalled the pale red stain on the rim of the bowl, and his voice trembled with barely perceptible fear.
Looking at the anger, panic, and hidden emotions surging in Sheng Xuan's eyes, Xiao Qiyun felt a mix of emotions. He remained silent for a moment, and his usually gentle and composed eyes were now tinged with a complex helplessness and a hint of... barely perceptible tenderness.
“Shengxuan,” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was lower, with an almost sighing tone, “I know that your feelings for Zhelan are sincere.”
Xiao Qiyun met Sheng Xuan's flustered and embarrassed gaze with calm eyes and continued, his tone serious and unquestionable: "That's why the most important thing for you right now is not to overthink things here, nor to rush to question anyone."
He paused, his gaze falling on the slightly raised bandage on Sheng Xuan's shoulder blade. His voice softened, yet carried an irresistible force: "Your most important task now is to heal your injury."
"Recover from your injuries?!" Sheng Xuan reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his anger flaring up again. "How am I supposed to recover in peace?! Zhe Lan, he..."
“Ze Lan needs to rest.” Xiao Qiyun interrupted him, his voice still steady but carrying an undeniable certainty. “His condition… is somewhat complicated. But General Sheng Chi and Mr. Su are doing their best to take care of him. If you disturb him now or ask him questions in an emotional manner, it will not do him or you any good.”
He stepped forward and gently pressed down on Sheng Xuan's shoulder again, this time Sheng Xuan did not push him away. Xiao Qiyun's gaze carried a deep, almost earnest meaning: "Believe me, Sheng Xuan. Zhe Lan... he's alright. At least, his life is not in danger. What you need to do now is to get better as soon as possible. Only when you are fully recovered will you have the energy and ability to find out everything you want to know, and only then can you truly... help him."
Xiao Qiyun's words were like an invisible net, gently enveloping and suppressing all of Sheng Xuan's anxiety and questioning. He understood the subtext in Xiao Qiyun's words—Zhelan needed peace and quiet now; the situation was complicated, and pressing for answers would be pointless and might even make things worse.
The phrase, "Only when you are fully recovered can you truly help him," precisely struck at Sheng Xuan's deepest desires and vulnerabilities.
Sheng Xuan opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his throat felt like it was blocked by something. He looked into Xiao Qiyun's calm yet all-knowing eyes, at the undeniable concern within them and... a hint of deep weariness, a heart full of anger and resentment, which ultimately turned into a deep sense of powerlessness and frustration.
He slumped back a step, collapsing onto the soft couch, his hands weakly supporting him at his sides, his head bowed. His shoulders slumped, like a defeated rooster.
Seeing his distraught state, Xiao Qiyun felt a pang of pity. He walked to the table, poured a cup of warm tea, and handed it to Sheng Xuan: "Have some water and calm down. The imperial physician said that you shouldn't let your emotions fluctuate too much."
Sheng Xuan didn't answer, but kept his head down, his voice muffled, with a heavy nasal tone and lingering confusion: "...Is he...really alright?"
Xiao Qiyun gently placed the teacup on the small table beside him, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable certainty: "Your life is safe. I guarantee it."
Silence fell once more in the warm room. The charcoal fire continued to crackle, but it couldn't dispel the heavy atmosphere in the air or the lingering gloom in Shengxuan's heart.
Xiao Qiyun's comforting words were like scratching an itch through a boot; instead of dispelling his doubts, they weighed even heavier on his heart.
Su Zhelan needs to rest, the situation is complicated... What cruel truth is hidden behind these vague words? And he can only stay here, like a useless person, waiting for "recovery"? This sense of powerlessness is a hundred times more painful than the wound on his shoulder blade.
After a long while, Sheng Xuan slowly turned her head, her gaze falling once more on Xiao Qiyun. Those once arrogant eyes, now filled with weariness and confusion, looked directly at Xiao Qiyun, her voice hoarse with an almost resigned tone and… a barely perceptible plea:
“My brother… he won’t let me go out.” Sheng Xuan’s voice was low, each word seemingly squeezed out with difficulty from his throat, filled with deep resentment and helplessness. “Otherwise… I must… go see him with my own eyes… see what… is going on with him…”
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty, as if he had made up his mind. His gaze was fixed on Xiao Qiyun's calm eyes, and his voice carried an unprecedented solemnity and... a hint of almost imperceptible bitterness:
"I'll have to trouble you to take good care of him during this time."
After saying this, Sheng Xuan seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He slightly turned his face away, avoiding Xiao Qiyun's gaze. His hands, placed at his sides, unconsciously clenched the brocade quilt, his knuckles turning white. To have to personally entrust the person he cared about most to Xiao Qiyun... the person he had subconsciously always regarded as a "rival in love"... only he himself knew the struggle and bitterness involved.
But at this moment, his concern for Su Zhelan's safety overwhelmed everything! He couldn't leave, while Xiao Qiyun could freely enter and leave Shuyu Courtyard... This seemed to be the only thing he could do for Su Zhelan.
Upon hearing this, Xiao Qiyun's pupils suddenly contracted!
He stared at Sheng Xuan in shock!
The Sheng Xuan before him was no longer the spirited, somewhat impulsive and possessive young general. His face was pale, his eyes were tired, and a lingering gloom and helplessness hung between his brows.
What shocked Xiao Qiyun even more was that Sheng Xuan actually... compromised? He was no longer as jealous and wary as before, guarding against his approach to Su Zhelan. Instead, he took the initiative to entrust him with the responsibility of taking care of Su Zhelan?!
Seeing Sheng Xuan's tightly pursed lips and slightly trembling fingertips as she turned her face away, Xiao Qiyun's displeasure caused by Sheng Xuan's impulsive questioning vanished instantly, replaced by a deep and complex emotion filled with respect and pity.
To soothe Sheng Xuan's obvious pain and unease, and to respond to this weighty entrustment, Xiao Qiyun did not hesitate at all.
He stepped forward, leaned down slightly, and aligned his gaze with Sheng Xuan's lowered eyes. His voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable firmness and solemnity:
"That's natural."
Four simple words, yet they carry immense weight. There are no superfluous promises, no sentimental guarantees, only a sense of duty and an unspoken understanding.
Sheng Xuan's body trembled almost imperceptibly. He didn't look up, but the fingers gripping the brocade quilt loosened slightly. Xiao Qiyun's decisive response was like a small reassurance, temporarily suppressing the surging panic and unease in his heart. At least... Xiao Qiyun had agreed. At least... Xiao Qiyun was still watching over Zhe Lan.
Xiao Qiyun looked at Sheng Xuan's still-lowered head and tense profile, knowing that his emotions were still unsettled. He said nothing more, but gently patted Sheng Xuan's uninjured shoulder, the gesture carrying a silent reassurance: "Don't worry about your injury. As for Zhelan... I'm here, and Mr. Su Yan is here too, everything will be alright."
After speaking, Xiao Qiyun straightened up, took one last look at the silent Sheng Xuan, and turned to leave the warm pavilion.
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