“What do you mean just you and not me?”

Wei Xun was startled and somewhat flustered. Remembering Qiu Ren’s medical advice from yesterday, he quickly said, “Don’t believe that nonsense Fat Fourth spouted off—I’m perfectly fine. If you don’t believe me, have Old Yang’s doctor take my pulse…”

Bao Zhu immediately interrupted him: “Though that dark-faced man behaves rudely, his reputation as a doctor has never lost credibility with me. On the contrary, you used techniques to manipulate your pulse and deceived many doctors in Xiagui County—I saw it with my own eyes. This pulse-taking is unnecessary.”

Wei Xun was immediately speechless, not expecting that his momentary playfulness back then would come back like a boomerang to strike him after so many days.

Bao Zhu said seriously, “Speaking of Old Yang, he’s still lying next door with an unrecovered cold, talking nonsense. If you also collapse from injury and illness, do you want me to take Shisan Lang alone and ride a donkey to Youzhou by myself?!”

Wei Xun quickly explained, “I rested for a night and feel much better. It was mainly from drinking too much at the wedding.”

Despite his blue lips, he still stubbornly insisted he was fine. Bao Zhu felt displeased. “I already know how serious your chronic illness is. To suffer poisoned wounds on top of that and still want to go out carousing when medical advice is right here—I think you find your life too long.”

Wei Xun was about to speak again when Bao Zhu added sternly, “Think carefully before speaking! If you dare deceive me again, I’ll dismiss you right now. The main hall is noisy with many jianghu knights from the same sect as you. I can surely find one or two capable of escorting me to Youzhou. Especially that purple-robed Taoist—I noticed his robe seems to be from the palace. Perhaps he has intentions of currying favor with the imperial family, which would be perfect…”

As she made a gesture to turn toward the door, Wei Xun completely panicked. He reached out from behind to grab her belt, stopping her steps, but had no idea what to do next. Wei Xun didn’t dare pull her forcefully and stood motionless behind her. The two were momentarily deadlocked.

“Don’t! Don’t look for them—they’re all far inferior to me…”

When Wei Xun heard the word “dismiss,” his face had already turned deathly pale. He stammered out these words, his voice hoarse, with none of his usual pride remaining in his tone.

Bao Zhu coldly looked back at him and repeated, “How are they inferior to you? I see they all have excellent complexions—not one looks as pale as you while still acting tough.”

Wei Xun’s throat trembled as he said desperately, “Even if I’m ill, their martial arts don’t match mine. The purple-robed one is Second Brother—he’s a treacherous schemer who pursues fame and profit. You must never reveal your true identity to him. Third Sister is that female ghost—aren’t you most afraid of ghosts? Besides, she has a terrible temper and loves conspiracies and schemes, feeling uncomfortable if she doesn’t stir up trouble for a day. You’ve already met Fourth Brother—not only is he crude and rude, but he has many disgusting habits you absolutely couldn’t tolerate traveling with. Fifth Brother’s character is passable, but he goes mad when fighting, completely disregarding others and always affecting his own side. Having him escort you would likely result in you suffering first…”

Wei Xun criticized each sect member one by one, but Bao Zhu acted as if she hadn’t heard, turning her head to stare at the door and saying indifferently, “I’m not a jianghu person and can’t distinguish your martial arts levels. I only know that the living are always better than the dead. No matter how brilliantly talented and unmatched in the world you were in life, once dead, nothing remains. Those protected under your wings would also face uncertainty, become displaced, with no one left to love and protect them.”

Her voice gradually choked up. Wei Xun was immediately alarmed, released her belt, and leaned over to look, seeing her eyes had already turned red.

He understood and said quietly, “The person you’re speaking of… isn’t me, is it?”

Bao Zhu took a deep breath, holding back tears in her eyes. After a long while, she could speak: “I’m talking about Mother. When she was alive, she controlled the six palaces, ranking below only one person but above ten thousand others. We lived in Penglai Hall at the center of Daming Palace, everything went smoothly as we wished. I could do whatever I wanted, never thinking there were any difficulties in the world.

But once she died in childbirth, all her former power disappeared. Penglai Hall was the empress’s residence—with her gone, my brother and I had to move out and live under her former romantic and political rivals. By then, Elder Brother had already moved to the Ten Kings’ Mansion and could no longer help me at all. Not to mention…”

Her eyes red, she said hoarsely, “Not to mention that in May I was directly buried alive in the imperial tomb. If Mother were still alive, how could she have let me suffer so many injustices? Whether controlling the six palaces or being first in martial arts, once dead, it’s all gone. You know how much time you have left, yet dare to squander it so recklessly without regard for life and death?!”

Bao Zhu spoke many words at once, even mentioning her mother’s past. Wei Xun finally understood her feelings.

She was pitying him.

Back at Cuiwei Temple in Chang’an, he had calmly accepted death in his heart. How many thousands upon thousands died daily throughout the world, perishing in the streets? His own hands held many lives—he would meet the King of Hell sooner or later, nothing special. But now, thinking that if he collapsed before reaching Youzhou and left her stranded in this chaotic world, falling again into a pitiful state with no protection, he felt a terrifying fear of dying with eyes unclosed.

Pang Liangji’s debt must be repaid, and she needed proper care. Fighting one against many was easy, but protecting someone one against many was extremely difficult.

Wei Xun dared not conceal anymore and said quietly, “My illness has existed for many years. I’ve consulted many famous doctors, but treatment or no treatment has shown little improvement. I won’t live to a ripe old age, but the remaining time is sufficient to escort you to Youzhou.”

He clenched his fists and said in an almost pleading tone, “I truly am the best among them. You… please don’t hire anyone else.”

Looking at his helpless expression, after a long while, Bao Zhu finally nodded, agreeing not to mention dismissal again. Though she held back tears and preserved her makeup, her voice had also become hoarse. Wei Xun carefully wiped the cup on the table twice and poured her water to soothe her throat.

Bao Zhu drank it down in two gulps and said angrily, “Why is it cold water? I clearly instructed the innkeeper yesterday to take good care of you and not let your room run out of hot soup.”

Wei Xun was extremely embarrassed, almost wanting to flee through the window. He thought that despite his lifetime of fighting prowess with countless defeated opponents, in her eyes he had become a sickly person who couldn’t withstand the wind. But remembering the consequences of his last escape, he didn’t dare move, too embarrassed to know what to do, only able to silently look up at the ceiling.

Seeing him not speak while his throat kept moving as if a small mouse was hidden under his skin, Bao Zhu felt somewhat curious. She thought that though Huo Qi looked quite dashing in men’s clothing, these details were still different from real men. After staring for a few moments, she suddenly felt embarrassed, looked away, and somehow her ears felt a bit hot.

Having finally digested this awkward embarrassment, Wei Xun smiled bitterly, “Last night they knocked out and stunned all the inn’s workers—they may not be awake yet. The hot water matter was Fourth Brother talking nonsense. Please don’t mention it again in the future.”

Bao Zhu was startled, thinking this group’s gathering was so secretive, not allowing others to leak information—quite unlike the rough jianghu people she had imagined.

She said, “I think Qiu Ren spoke very reasonably. Cold aged wine is inherently cold in nature. You used to love drinking wine stored in ancient tombs—what in the world is more yin-cold and bone-chilling than that? Of course drinking it would worsen your illness.”

Wei Xun sighed deeply and said, “I won’t drink anymore.”

Bao Zhu thought that famous doctors from Guanzhong didn’t leave Chang’an. She had in mind to introduce him to some imperial physicians in the future, but remembering that she had also been diagnosed by the imperial medical team before being buried alive, there really wasn’t much good to say.

Her tone became gentler: “I know you owe Pang Liangji a great debt and must help him morally, but you don’t necessarily have to execute it personally. You follow the medical advice and rest at the inn for two days, and watch how I solve the case. The real culprit’s martial arts are certainly far inferior to yours—otherwise they would have acted openly long ago instead of using these conspiracies and tricks. You not appearing will draw the snake out of its hole.”

Wei Xun said gravely, “What if that poisonous snake bites you?”

Bao Zhu said confidently, “I’ll naturally hide among your junior brothers and sisters. Even if the sky falls, it won’t necessarily hit my head. Besides, though you blocked the assassin’s poisoned darts for me, this grudge is still mine—I want to settle it personally!”

Wei Xun knew that though she was usually easy to coax, once she became stubborn at crucial moments, no one’s persuasion would work—everyone could only do as she said. After thinking, he unfastened the meteoric iron dagger from his waist and handed it to her.

“Take this for self-defense. When encountering danger, try not to resist forcefully—hide near Fifth Brother and Seventh Sister. But once Fifth Brother starts muttering sutras, absolutely don’t delay—run as far as you can.”

Bao Zhu took the dagger and drew it partway, seeing her own face reflected in the flowing dark patterns, as if looking down into some dark mysterious river.

She asked, “What is this blade actually called?”

Wei Xun said, “It’s just called a dining knife.”

Bao Zhu angrily said, “This is at least a thousand-year-old antique weapon. How can you keep using it as a dining knife? You’ve truly dishonored its origins.”

Wei Xun was completely unconcerned about this and laughed, “If you’re not satisfied, give it a name yourself.”

Bao Zhu considered for a moment and said, “The ‘Book of Jin’ states that Niuzhu Rapids are unfathomably deep with many monsters beneath the water. By lighting rhinoceros horn to illuminate and observe, one can perceive the hidden secrets within, making demons and spirits have nowhere to hide. This dagger has a rhinoceros horn handle with mountain and river patterns—let’s call it ‘Rhinoceros Illumination,’ hoping it can illuminate the demons and evil spirits beneath the dark river.”

Wei Xun nodded approvingly, “Good name. I hope you can use it to suppress those monsters downstairs and also root out the mastermind who kidnapped the bride.”

Bao Zhu said seriously, “Repeat what you promised me.”

Wei Xun answered earnestly, “Follow medical advice, don’t use true qi for two days, avoid fighting with others.”

Bao Zhu nodded satisfactorily, fastened the dagger to her belt, then untied and opened a calculation pouch. The calculation pouch was a bag used by court officials to store brushes, inkstones, and other personal writing tools. Knowing Wei Xun’s nature couldn’t possibly sit still, she had specially taken it from Yang Xingjian for his use.

“Though I promised to teach you writing, we’ve been busy traveling with no proper practice opportunities. Now that you’re idle while recovering, it’s the perfect time to practice.”

She spread out paper, dipped ink, and wrote a poem by Master of Five Willows about returning to pastoral life. Then she commanded Wei Xun to sit down, placed the brush in his palm, and taught him the correct brush-holding posture hand-over-hand.

“The stirrup method: firm fingers, hollow palm. The technique has five characters: lift, press, hook, block, support.”

The basics of calligraphy were similar to martial arts mental techniques. Wei Xun should have mastered it in one sentence, but because Bao Zhu’s hand was gripping his, his mind roared like tinnitus. Being so close, he couldn’t hear clearly what she said. His mind wandered and his hand lost proper strength control.

Bao Zhu adjusted his finger positions one by one. Wei Xun’s hand trembled and cracked the brush handle with a snap.

Never having encountered such a situation with a student, Bao Zhu frowned as she pulled the broken brush from his hand, looking at it incredulously. “You can’t grip a brush like you’re grasping a weapon. This is an ivory handle, and even if it were hardwood, it couldn’t withstand your strength. There are only two brushes in the calculation pouch—this is the last spare. Hold it more gently.”

She demonstrated with the intact brush and handed it over: “Imagine you’re not holding a brush but pinching a flower—the stem is soft and delicate, too much force would crush and ruin it. The strength in your fingers should be gentle; power comes from the wrist. Only by gripping the brush this way can you write smoothly and as desired. You practice martial arts—surely you know how to exert force from the wrist?”

Bao Zhu again corrected his brush-holding posture hand-over-hand, pointing out each joint for exerting force.

So close he could smell her orchid-like breath, Wei Xun’s head lowered more and more until he was nearly prostrate on the desk. He said nothing, only nodded slightly to show understanding, though his wrist had completely gone numb. He felt his whole body was about to melt into a puddle and could only hold his breath, silently reciting meditation mantras to barely maintain human form without trembling.

This soft, delicate hand truly was like a peach blossom, each fingernail petal-shaped, translucent with pink showing through. Only it wasn’t him grasping the flower—the flower was grasping him.

The numbness quickly spread from his wrist up his forearm, then to his upper arm and shoulders… faster than any poison, impossible to suppress or resist. His usually most confident ability to control his body completely vanished. He could only admit he was indeed seriously ill, otherwise unable to explain these symptoms. He urgently needed solitude to rest.

“Good, just like that! Stay properly in your room and copy this line ‘Long caged, now free to return to nature’ one hundred times. The character for ‘cage’ has a complex structure—when you can write it properly, you’ll be able to escape the cage and return to nature.”

After instructing him, Bao Zhu saw Wei Xun’s head lowered, face toward the copybook she had written, right hand holding the brush motionless, his whole person seemingly frozen, and thought he was seriously studying the model. She again found the authoritative feeling of being a teacher, quite pleased, and said crisply, “I’m leaving!” before clicking out the door.

As soon as the door closed, Wei Xun immediately collapsed on the desk, only holding his right arm still, afraid that moving would disturb the brush-holding posture she had personally corrected. The burning temperature and soft texture of her skin still lingered on his hand—he couldn’t touch it even once, unable to bear the slightest provocation.

In just a blink, footsteps sounded outside again. This time Bao Zhu didn’t knock and pushed directly in. Wei Xun looked up desperately, wondering what other tormenting methods she had to add.

It turned out Bao Zhu felt he had been too silent earlier, obedient to an abnormal degree, and feared he was brewing some scheme to escape midway. She had specially returned to warn sternly, “I said copy one hundred times and it’s one hundred times. When I return from solving the case, I’ll count them sheet by sheet. If even one sheet is missing, I’ll… I’ll…”

After pondering a moment, Bao Zhu decided to use her ultimate punishment for her brother Li Yuanyi, narrowing her eyes and threatening viciously, “I’ll use a ruler to strike your palm!” Having said this, she slammed the door and left again.

Wei Xun once again prostrated himself on the desk, unable to straighten his back for a long time.

After a very long while, the strange power she had left gradually receded. Wei Xun suddenly trembled at the shoulders, unable to suppress secret chuckling, his heart conflicted: Should he copy this poem or not? Obedience would naturally be excellent, but the consequences of disobedience seemed quite wonderful too.