“By rights, I should have sent a maidservant or eunuch to give you a sachet of fragrant herbs, then you would respond with a matching poem… given our crude conditions now, you’ll have to make do.”
Seeing Wei Xun’s awkward uncertainty about where to place his hands and feet, Bao Zhu simply affected a bold manner, raising her hand to loosen her hair bun and pointing to the inner side of the bed: “You go inside.”
A treatment more deadly than pepper and ginseng soup descended upon him. Wei Xun felt his head buzz, not knowing how things had developed in such a bizarre direction. He asked desperately: “Why?”
Bao Zhu frowned: “Do you take me for a fool? If I let you stay on the outside, the moment I close my eyes you’ll slip away.”
Seeing Wei Xun still standing there like a wooden post refusing to move, she grew impatient. With one hand grabbing his chest garment and the other seizing his belt, she strained both arms, trying to wrestle him onto the bed. This was the starting position for wrestling combat, executed with quite standard form. With her strength capable of drawing a powerful bow, lifting a lynx would be no problem.
Wei Xun felt numb from his cervical spine to his lower back, with only one thought in his mind: she doesn’t understand propriety, but even unto death he couldn’t “fight back.”
After Bao Zhu pushed and shoved twice with her opponent rooted to the spot, unmovable, her expression immediately turned cold. She had taken the initiative tonight entirely because she believed the term “Phoenix Embryo” held hidden mysteries and their meeting was destined by fate.
But when something requires mutual willingness and one party won’t cooperate, it becomes a case of flowing water having no feeling despite falling flowers having intent. She couldn’t understand why, when they already had the reality of being lovers, this person now resisted so strongly. With her extremely strong pride, how could she tolerate rejection, much less lower herself to probe repeatedly.
“So you’re unwilling?” Without thinking, Bao Zhu pointed to the door and said proudly: “Then get out. Don’t expect the three chances like Lion Cong—I won’t lack bedside companions in the future.”
Though spoken lightly, she actually wanted to take out her iron whip, iron mace, and dagger to pummel him thoroughly.
Wei Xun immediately panicked and blurted out: “I’m willing!”
The moment the words left his mouth, his ears flushed bright red. Seeing Bao Zhu’s cold expression, he desperately found an excuse: “I wanted to respond with a poem… but… I couldn’t think of one.”
Bao Zhu knew his literacy was limited. Whenever topics touched on this, he would simultaneously show shame, and she never got angry about it.
Sure enough, hearing this, Bao Zhu’s expression immediately softened as she said: “Never mind, other princesses’ lovers aren’t necessarily all talented scholars either.”
At the same time, she felt quite proud that her lover was certainly the one with the highest martial arts and most noble character among them.
“Take off your belt—the dagger poking against people is uncomfortable,” she instructed.
Having reached this point, unless he wanted to completely break with her, there was no reason left to refuse. Wei Xun steeled himself, kicked off his boots, removed his belt, and retreated to the depths of the bed. After brief consideration, he grabbed the quilt and wrapped himself tightly from head to toe, curling into a ball.
Seeing him bundled up completely airtight like a cocoon, Bao Zhu was somewhat puzzled: “Do you sleep wearing your neck scarf too?”
Wei Xun buried his head in the blanket tube, only exposing a pair of alert eyes as he said cautiously: “You wear your socks properly, I keep my neck scarf on—we’ll both feel at ease.”
This reasoning sounded logical with no apparent flaws.
Bao Zhu put on three layers of socks, carefully tied the sock ribbons, confirmed they were both on the same pillow, then lay down beside him.
She had always loved watching his Adam’s apple move when he spoke. Now having the chance to touch it up close, he was hiding it away. Bao Zhu couldn’t help feeling an inexplicable sense of loss.
Supporting her fragrant cheek with her hand, she promised the curled-up Wei Xun beside her: “When we reach Youzhou, I’ll find a reliable noble family to adopt you as a son. That way you’ll be a scion of the Chang’an Wei clan, and I won’t allow anyone to gossip about your origins.”
Wei Xun made a muffled sound of acknowledgment from under the covers.
“Elder Brother will probably be annoyed for a while when he learns of this, but he’s always doted on me most. Whatever I want, he gives me—he’ll fully support my decisions.”
Wei Xun made another sound of agreement, still showing no additional response.
“I wonder what delicious food and fun places Youzhou has? Elder Brother wrote that it’s a culinary wasteland with unremarkable food. In my opinion, he just hates going out and is picky—he simply hasn’t found the right places…”
Bao Zhu chattered for a while, her speech gradually becoming unclear before she soon fell into deep sleep.
Wei Xun’s tense heart relaxed slightly as he released his tight grip on the neck scarf. He didn’t want Bao Zhu to see the traces left by his terminal illness—this was one reason he resisted undressing before her. If the condition continued worsening and the purple-blue veins spread to his face and hands, they could no longer be concealed.
The night was hazy. Gazing at this moon-like luminous face, Wei Xun suffered trapped on the inside, his back pressed tight against the wall without a trace of sleepiness.
The Phoenix Embryo matter had been exposed. The moment he stepped through that door, he had mentally prepared to weather a storm. Among thousands of scenarios, he hadn’t expected to endure such cruel torment. Had he known it would be this situation, he truly should have used Shisan Lang’s strategy.
He repeatedly pondered every word Bao Zhu had spoken before sleep. She clearly understood the chasm-like gap between his origins and hers as a member of the martial world, their living environments worlds apart. Therefore she promised to resolve all difficulties and give him peace of mind.
Earlier, he had accepted his numbered days, thinking that after escorting her to Youzhou he would have no more concerns, never considering the future. Who would have thought Zhou Qingyang would produce medicine to alleviate his symptoms, letting him see a glimmer of hope. Human nature always seeks more after gaining some—this bit of hope actually stirred impractical longings in him.
But while he was willing to brave fire and flood for her, he wasn’t willing to change his way of life and leave his own world for it. If he couldn’t resolve this inner conflict, he would never take that transgressive step.
Thus Wei Xun struggled to restrain his impulses while silently pondering. After an unknown time, Bao Zhu’s originally peaceful sleeping expression showed ripples of disturbance. She seemed somewhat anxious, turning repeatedly.
Suddenly, she clenched her teeth, muscles tense at neck and shoulders, her face full of anger, fists clenched tight with right thumb and forefinger locked together. Wei Xun instantly read these subtle movements: facing an invisible enemy, she was drawing a bow in her dreams.
“Bao Zhu.” Wei Xun called softly. She didn’t wake, saying nothing, immersed in desperate battle.
Since escaping Prince Qi’s mansion, she had been like this almost every night until achieving complete revenge and leaving Luoyang.
Wei Xun sighed lightly, extending both arms from under the covers to slowly draw her into his embrace, murmuring in her ear: “You’ve already won.”
“You’re invincible in battle.”
“You are Fearless Lion Guanyin, Invincible Bao Zhu the Great.”
He repeatedly stroked her back, just like that night hunting together, helping drive away nightmares. Until the surging anger and hatred slowly receded and her tense body gradually relaxed. Her clenched fists opened—he touched the scar left by bowstrings on the inside of her thumb, merit won through bloody battle.
Licking away tears that seeped from the corners of her eyes, his tongue tasted salt and bitterness. Unknowingly, restless desires had vanished completely, leaving only pure love and tenderness in his heart.
After sending the moon back to the sky, could he let go and leave cleanly?
After the second cock crow, Wei Xun emerged quietly from the threshold with his belt over his shoulder, turning back to carefully close the door to avoid disturbing the sleeping person.
Looking back, he saw Yang Xingjian standing at the other end of the corridor, face full of shock, eyes wide as saucers, nearly rolling from their sockets.
Yang Xingjian came every morning to pay respects to the princess—how could he have expected to witness such an intimate scene today? Early morning, emerging disheveled from the princess’s room—how could Yang Xingjian not understand what had happened? Nominally still the princess’s guardian, he felt embarrassment mixed with shame and anger, not knowing what to do.
Wei Xun was equally unprepared for this encounter, but after only a moment’s daze, quickly resumed his usual defiant expression, chin raised in an arrogant “what will you do about it?” posture.
After a brief challenging stare, Yang Xingjian immediately conceded defeat, covering his face with his sleeve and pretending he had seen nothing, turning to leave quickly.
Wei Xun knew this fellow would return to his room to write a complaint letter to Youzhou, but he was too preoccupied to care.
Taking advantage of Bao Zhu’s deep sleep, Wei Xun drew a bucket of ice-cold well water, hurriedly washed up, went to check the animals in the stable, then rushed back to his room to wake the sleeping Shisan Lang and supervise his junior brother’s morning practice.
After completing this circuit, he quietly returned to Bao Zhu’s room, tiptoeing back to his original position, lying down again and pretending he had never left.
When Bao Zhu slowly awakened, sleepy-eyed and yawning, drowsily glancing to her side, she saw Wei Xun wrapped in the quilt with two dark-circled eyes, looking at her pitifully.
Bao Zhu was momentarily dazed, blankly coming to her senses and suddenly remembering why he was sleeping beside her. Looking at this ravaged face, there seemed to be no sign of improvement.
Unwilling to accept this, she pressed: “What? Was there no effect?!”
Wei Xun shook his head and, like a plague-stricken cat, sickly whimpered: “My chest feels terribly uncomfortable.”
Bao Zhu hastily pulled away the covers, pressing her ear to his chest to listen intently. Inside his chest cavity seemed to be a runaway wild horse—his heartbeat rapid and chaotic, sounding ready to collapse from exhaustion.
Greatly disappointed, Bao Zhu even momentarily doubted her own “Phoenix Embryo” bloodline. Without time to arrange her hair, she hurriedly threw on outer garments and ran out pattering to fetch Daoist Qingyang.
Zhou Qingyang was taking advantage of dawn’s pure wind and clean dew to focus on refining essence into qi to form an inner elixir. Having just entered a state of selfless meditation, she was inexplicably pulled out for a house call. Entering the room, she saw the little rascal lying on the bed barely alive, yet stubbornly refusing to extend his hand.
With years of medical practice, she instinctively sensed deception. But with a physician’s benevolent heart, she still reached into the blanket tube to feel his wrist pulse. As soon as she extended her hand, it was secretly grasped by an ice-cold claw at the pulse point.
Wei Xun, covered by the blanket, craftily rolled his eyes and blinked: “Please take pity, Master Uncle.”
Zhou Qingyang’s expression froze, then curved into a cold smile as she asked quietly: “What medical advice do you want?”
Bao Zhu waited anxiously outside until the physician finally emerged from the examination. She rushed forward asking: “Why has it gotten worse?”
Zhou Qingyang silently cursed Wei Xun’s difficult delivery while maintaining a composed expression, casually fabricating: “He’s riddled with ailments—three diseases, four pains, five exhaustions, seven injuries. Now that decline has set in, all maladies swarm together. Continuing such indulgent excess is like adding frost to snow—the path to death. Show some mercy and stop tormenting the sick cat.”
Hearing this, Bao Zhu was startled and vaguely grasped her meaning, feeling somewhat guilty.
“What about medical advice?”
Zhou Qingyang replied perfunctorily: “Drink more hot water.”