◎Shock and Pain◎

As if hearing the commotion inside the room, He San, waiting just outside, paused for a moment before pushing straight in. He turned to shut the door behind him, then hurried over, apparently assuming Qu You was simply one of Zhou Tan’s subordinates. “Sir, if you would, please hold my lord more tightly.”

He seemed to have witnessed this happen more than once before — though caught off guard, he showed little real panic.

Qu You did as he said and tightened her hold around Zhou Tan’s waist, her mind still inappropriately racing with scattered thoughts, when He San pushed back Zhou Tan’s sleeve on one side and, without hesitation, drew a knife and cut a line across his arm.

“What are you doing?”

Qu You gave a start of alarm, and in her moment of shock, He San had already deftly retrieved gauze and medicinal wine from somewhere in the back hall, pouring the wine over the fresh wound.

It must have hurt terribly — Zhou Tan flinched and struggled faintly, unconscious of his own movements, and it was only because she was holding him that he didn’t strike anything else.

He San laid the gauze beneath his arm but didn’t bind it, then rose to his feet and asked Qu You, somewhat hesitant, “Would you care to step out with me, sir? My lord… after this treatment, he doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

Step out? Qu You looked down at Zhou Tan, half-conscious, one hand still clutching tightly at her sleeve. “It’s fine. Lord Zhou and I still have matters to discuss. You… do you handle this for him often? What condition is this?”

He San answered respectfully, “Once my lord wakes, you’re welcome to ask him yourself. It isn’t my place to say more.”

He found a sheet of rice paper in the room, carefully gathered up the shattered vial and pills Zhou Tan had smashed earlier, then bowed and took his leave, adding as he went, “Just wait about the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, sir. There’s no need to bind my lord’s wound.”

The cut hadn’t gone deep, and with the medicinal wine poured over it, it was already beginning to clot faintly. Qu You freed one hand to lift his sleeve out of the way, so it wouldn’t stick to the wound — and it was then, without meaning to, that she caught sight of his left arm, covered in cuts both long and short.

Back when Zhou Tan had first been gravely injured, she’d already known he carried plenty of old scars — after all, he’d nearly lost his life in the Ministry of Justice’s prison earlier that year before he’d resolved to write the “Rhapsody on the Candlelit Tower.” But looking at the marks on his arm now, nearly all of them were fresh.

What condition could Zhou Tan possibly have that required him to hurt himself to bring it under control?

Judging by how practiced the guard’s movements had been, this clearly wasn’t the first time, or even the second. These wounds had likely all been left behind by past episodes — old scars layered over new ones, marking his skin all over. The sight made Qu You’s whole body tremble.

Zhou Tan, still in her arms, suddenly shuddered, and she held him tighter still.

His eyes half-open, his awareness seemed to be slowly returning. His uninjured right hand slowly rose, and pressed sharply down against his own wound.

The wound, which had only just begun to clot, immediately began bleeding fresh red again, and he let out a low, pained groan.

Qu You didn’t even have time to react before instinctively grabbing hold of Zhou Tan’s right hand. But his grip was surprisingly strong, and he very nearly broke free. In the heat of the moment, their hands ended up locked tightly together, and Qu You finally managed to use the leverage to pin his hand to the floor. “Zhou Tan!”

The moment she called his name, Zhou Tan immediately went still, closing his eyes as if all his strength had drained away, his breathing gradually settling.

After roughly the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, Qu You saw him open his eyes again.

Those eyes still held the faint sheen of tears from the pain he’d just endured, but they slowly cleared, cooling into calm depths. Zhou Tan drew a few ragged breaths and finally came back to himself.

The moment he looked up, he found Qu You holding him in her arms, one hand still tightly clasped with his, and his face went momentarily blank.

“You…” Qu You released her grip, and Zhou Tan immediately raised a hand to cover his wound, his gaze traveling downward. “This is your…”

“Your guard came in and did this,” Qu You said, already knowing what he meant to ask. “Are you all right now?”

Zhou Tan lowered his head, avoiding her gaze, and stiffly began wrapping the gauze He San had left beneath his arm around the wound himself. His breathing was somewhat uneven, but he said nothing.

Watching him struggle to bandage himself with one hand, Qu You sighed, took his arm from him, poured a little more medicinal wine over the wound, and wrapped the gauze around it firmly and securely. “This wound will probably heal faster with some ointment on it.”

He’d shown he could feel pain even while unconscious, yet now that he was truly awake, he said nothing at all. Once Qu You had finished bandaging his arm, she noticed Zhou Tan still didn’t dare look at her. “What condition is this?”

“No need to ask,” Zhou Tan said hoarsely. Holding his wound, he gave her a stiff nod, a gesture of thanks, though his tone still carried something like a threat. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

Unfortunately, with his face so pale and his voice so weak, there was nothing remotely threatening about it — if anything, he reminded her of her own cat, wounded but still too proud to admit it.

Before Qu You could respond, Zhou Tan continued, “Since we’ve already said everything plainly between us, I might as well tell you this too — the reason I had Wuping entrust the protection of those women at the Heart of Fragrance House to you is because I can’t get involved myself.”

“Miss Yan isn’t dead — you two must still have another move planned,” Qu You said thoughtfully, glancing sideways at him. “Of course. Since the Ministry of Justice has taken over this case, you have to avoid any appearance of conflict of interest.”

Zhou Tan gave a soft “Mm.” “This is something I shouldn’t officially know about yet, but these people will be useful later on, and Wuping can’t come forward openly for now.”

“But if I can’t turn to you for help, how am I supposed to protect these women?” Qu You asked.

“Go find Physician Bo. He’s always been generous to the poor, and he’s on good terms with the laborers and beggars of North Street,” Zhou Tan said. “There’s an underground network of theirs on North Street.”

He had every piece arranged with meticulous care. Listening to him, Qu You suddenly said, “Oh, so you’d already looked into Bo Ying too, and that’s how you decided to make use of me. Lord Zhou, quite the master strategist, aren’t you.”

Zhou Tan braced himself against the folding screen beside him and rose unsteadily to his feet. “From saving my life before, to taking advantage of the situation just now — I do owe you a debt of gratitude, it’s true.”

“So?” Qu You drew out her words in an echo of his own manner, laced with a note of mockery.

Zhou Tan said, “Name your price. I prefer dealing in clearly stated terms.”

Qu You had known he’d say something like this, and suddenly felt she had absolutely no way of communicating with this suspicious, overthinking, stubborn man from ancient times. “Who wants to make a deal with you, Lord Zhou. You’d best hurry up and get promoted, so we can finally get divorced. Otherwise, being suspected by you every single day and having to argue with you on top of it — I’m afraid I’ll die young at this rate.”

With that, she pushed the door open and left, leaving Zhou Tan standing alone in the hall.

He stood there for a long while without moving, his gaze drifting to the writing on the screen. Without quite meaning to, he pressed down slightly on the wound that had just been bandaged, his brow furrowing sharply before easing again.

Zhou Tan thought quietly to himself. He’d always assumed that the daughter of a scholarly official family would naturally be chaste and proper, disciplined in restraint and decorum — but Qu You… was nothing at all like any woman he’d ever known before.

Divorce would damage a woman’s reputation. Though remarriage wasn’t uncommon these days, daughters from scholarly official families valued this above almost everything else, and would rarely agree to it so easily.

And yet Qu You was so unguarded and forthright, carrying even a touch of clever mischief, her words and manner entirely unconstrained by convention — she didn’t mind the idea of divorce at all, could even casually toss around the word “die” without a second thought. She was willing to burn with anger on behalf of women of the lowest, most pitiable status, and just as willing to bandage his wounds with her own hands.

He’d looked into her for a long while now and found nothing at all. If it truly was as she said — that she’d saved his life purely out of her own conscience — then she really was an extraordinarily, extraordinarily good woman.

Blood seeped faintly through the neatly bound gauze. Zhou Tan clenched his fingers and walked out, expression unreadable.

Whatever her reasons for not minding, whatever made her say such things — it was for the best, this way.

She was right. Better to divorce as soon as possible. A man like him was never meant to take a wife in the first place.

Author’s Note:

Lord Zhou: QAQ why would you bring up divorce yourself, no, don’t—!

Thanks to the little angels who dropped bombs: A Tangerine from the Deep Mountains, Pucao Maomao x1;

Thanks to the little angels who watered with nutrient fluid: Summer’s Rabbit x15; Minghang x2; Pucao Maomao x1;

Much love~~