The emperor stayed just like that, holding Zeng Han all the while. Bailin stood behind him, and two became three — yet what did not change was the direction of their hopeful, lingering gaze.

Lai Fu’s footsteps each time came right to the threshold, only to be drawn back again. The war was not yet quelled, the old and new were still shifting in the court — there truly were many great matters waiting for the emperor to decide. Yet he could not bring himself to urge it. The great nation would not fall in a moment, but the Grand Preceptor stood at the threshold between life and death.

If the emperor had already matured in full — if he had learned to weigh and measure with a calm hand, if he had truly mastered the art of keeping his joy and grief from his face — perhaps he would not show his anxiety so plainly. But the emperor was only twelve years old, newly seated upon the throne, and at the time when he depended most on the Grand Preceptor, who had been both teacher and mother to him. His inability to collect his thoughts, his visible anxiety — that was truly not difficult to understand.

Lai Fu lowered his head. So be it. Even if he must bear some reproach for it, he would bear it — he could only hope that the Grand Preceptor would safely pass through this crisis. Otherwise…

Just then, more people came from outside. Lai Fu turned to look: it was Minister Zhu, still in his court robes with no time to change. After him came the Qin family, then the Anguo Duke’s household, the Dingguo Duke’s household, the Cai family, the Jiang family — every family with even the slightest connection to Hua Zhi had come.

Yet Hua Zhi went on burning with fever. This time she was not accommodating in the slightest — no matter how many people were waiting for her, she simply kept her eyes closed and burned on, as though making up for every illness she had deferred across these two years. Every place on her body that had long since healed without even a trace of a scar was burning red and scorching hot — and yet she lay there as though asleep, as though suffering not the slightest discomfort.

Yet she was burning so badly already — how could she not be suffering?

Gu Yanxi did not reach out to take the cloth Bao Xia offered him. “Wine should no longer be used — go prepare warm water.”

Bao Xia did not quite catch his meaning at first, but Ying Chun understood and immediately sent someone to bring hot water. Then she graciously but firmly sank into a curtsy before the emperor. “The young miss must bathe — please, Your Majesty, would you kindly withdraw for a moment.”

The emperor promptly rose and carried Zeng Han out the door. No one else had any reason to remain and all left together.

Elder Yu took her pulse once more before leaving. Still that same near-failing pulse, on the verge of ceasing. He sighed and instructed, “I am going to compose a prescription for the medicinal bath. Be careful that the water is not too cold — she is weak, and she cannot withstand it.”

“Understood.”

The maids came and went in a constant flurry. Everyone else became superfluous.

Hua Yizheng clasped his hands toward the assembled guests. “I am grateful to you all for coming. The Hua family receives your kind regard with full hearts. However, the household is in such turmoil at this moment that we truly cannot… Once Zhi’er recovers, I will personally send someone to call upon each of you.”

Knowing how to hear what was left unspoken, everyone tactfully took their leave.

Zhu Bowen was the last to go. Neither of the two old friends had imagined they would meet again two years later under these circumstances. They exchanged a glance, both feeling the strange and cruel workings of fate. Who could have foreseen that in their old age they would face times this hard?

He patted his old friend’s shoulder, and Zhu Bowen let out a long sigh. “Don’t lose heart. Zhi’er is filial — she would never let herself go just like this.”

Hua Yizheng smiled bitterly. He had never prayed so earnestly in his life for Zhi’er to be filial.

He glanced at his daughter, who looked as if she were about to faint from weeping. Zhu Bowen ultimately said nothing more and left. What was there to say, after all? The person lying in that room was flesh of her flesh — no words of comfort from anyone could do more than scratch the surface.

The emperor, however, did not leave. When someone came on behalf of the Empress Dowager to request his return, even that could not bring him away.

He simply occupied a small corner of space, encircling Bailin and Zeng Han within his arms — making it clear he would neither leave nor allow anyone to come near.

Inside the room, Ying Chun stepped forward. “My lord, the water is ready.”

“Prop it up.”

The two maids rushed forward to lift and hook the curtain back — and then, entirely unprepared, they stood stock-still and wide-eyed as the Regent, clad only in an inner robe, stepped off the bed in long strides carrying the young miss, who was wrapped in a thin blanket. They looked at each other in stunned silence. Was the lord going to…

The sound of water followed. They hastened after him, and found the large wooden tub in the side room already filled to the brim. The Regent stepped into it with the young miss in his arms and sat down — the water rose past the young miss’s chest. And beneath the water, given that position, everything would be in full view.

Both maids flushed crimson with heat. Right — the young miss was insensible, and without someone holding her she might take in water. The Regent was doing this for the sake of the young miss — that was all, just so, and there was absolutely nothing out of order about it at all.

Ying Chun dared not lift her face, but wrung out a cloth and moved to place it on the young miss’s forehead — only to have it taken from her hand midway. She did not need to think to know who had taken it. She bowed her head even lower, checked the water temperature, then stooped to open the drain plug, ladled out a large scoop of hot water, and added it to the tub.

Gu Yanxi was in no comfortable state either. The woman he loved was without a stitch of clothing in his arms, and his body responded in the natural way — yet in his heart he burned with anxiety of a very different kind. Two fires burned at once, one in his heart and one through his body. Submerged in the water, he still felt as though he might spontaneously combust.

He carefully gathered her closer against himself. Her skin was like fine jade, and in the water it felt even smoother to the touch. Her waist was so slender his hands could span it, and whether his hands moved upward or downward…

Gu Yanxi wrenched his gaze away, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow. He wanted to go plunge into cold water rather than soaking in this heat — but Hua Zhi could not be left unattended here, and he… had no wish to leave either.

So he subjected himself willingly to this sweet torment. After the next change of cloth, he reached out and touched her forehead from habit — and then, after he had already let go, the realization struck him. He pressed his own forehead to hers immediately and held it there a moment, then, uncertain, signaled for Ying Chun and Bao Xia to come forward. “Feel for yourselves.”

Both women brightened at once. They stretched out their hands simultaneously — Bao Xia a half-beat behind, her hand landing directly over the back of Ying Chun’s. She could feel nothing through it and asked in a rapid stream, “How is it? Has the fever broken? Has it broken?”

Ying Chun was not certain either. “It seems like it’s come down a little…”

Bao Xia saw her reaction and pulled her hand away to press her own against the young miss’s forehead. A moment later she too was uncertain. “It has — it’s come down a bit, hasn’t it?”

“Prepare dry towels.” Gu Yanxi rose to his feet at once, paying no mind to his own disheveled state, and gathered Hua Zhi into his arms. He stepped out of the wooden tub, carried her to the long couch nearby where a blanket had been laid, settled her there, and told the two maids to attend her quickly. He then stripped off his inner robe with swift, efficient movements.

Only once it was off did it occur to him that he had no change of clothes here. He glanced back at Hua Zhi, then walked briskly out of the side room, went to the bed and picked up his outer garments, threw them on without ceremony, and returned to the side room. The two maids had been just as quick — in that short span of time, they had already helped the young miss dress and were now wiping down her hair.

He carried her back to the main bed. “Go and bring Elder Yu.”

Bao Xia answered crisply and stepped out with a large stride. Pulling open the door, she called, “Divine Physician Yu, the young miss’s temperature seems to have come down a little — please come and take a look.”

Everyone standing or sitting in wait outside felt their spirits lift at once. Elder Yu too felt a loosening in his chest and followed quickly inside. Zhu Shi had been holding herself back past endurance — she pulled at her husband’s arm and followed in as well. The emperor, relying on the fact that no one dared block him, shouldered his way to the very front of the doorway. Naturally, neither Bailin nor Zeng Han was left behind.

Everyone held their breath in perfect stillness, waiting for Divine Physician Yu to render his verdict. Yet the physician’s brow still did not ease.

Gu Yanxi’s low, muted voice came from behind the curtain. “How is she?”

“The pulse has not improved.” If anything, it had worsened — he feared that…