Cui Xun leaned against the huanghuali wood couch, wrapped in his brocade quilt. His fever had not yet subsided, and his pale face was flushed with an unhealthy redness. He coughed continuously. Though his body was uncomfortable, his eyes remained dull and lifeless.

After a long while, he finally remembered the medicine placed beside him. He glanced at the pitch-black liquid with some disgust but still reached out with trembling hands to pick it up. He couldn’t die—at least not now.

He scooped a spoonful of medicine with a white jade spoon and prepared to bring it to his mouth, but his wrist was weak and powerless. Moreover, with the heavy shackles locked around his wrists, he couldn’t hold it steady. The celadon medicine bowl fell toward the brocade quilt, but just as it was about to hit, a ball of pale green ghostly fire appeared and caught the bowl. Not a drop of medicine was spilled.

Li Ying took the celadon medicine bowl from the ghostly fire and sat silently at the edge of his couch. She put a sugar frost candy into the bowl and waited for it to dissolve before scooping up a spoonful of medicine. She carefully blew on the scalding liquid until it was just warm, then brought it to Cui Xun’s lips.

Cui Xun didn’t drink. He only said, “I can do it myself.”

Li Ying replied, “If you could do it yourself, the medicine bowl wouldn’t have fallen just now.”

Cui Xun wasn’t accustomed to being fed by others and still refused to drink. Li Ying sighed. “Fine, you don’t have to drink it. But if you die from illness, I don’t see how you’ll explain yourself to General Guo in the underworld.”

At these words, Cui Xun’s fingers, resting on the brocade quilt, trembled slightly. He had to admit that Li Ying’s words had struck a chord. The reason he had endured so much humiliation over the years without wanting to die was to fulfill his promise to General Guo. He lowered his gaze and finally opened his mouth, drinking the spoonful of medicine Li Ying held to his lips.

Li Ying shook her head. This man’s pride was sometimes so strong that it was inappropriate. She continued to scoop up spoonfuls of medicine, cool them with her breath, and bring them to his lips.

Half the bowl of medicine was quickly consumed. Cui Xun swallowed a mouthful of the slightly sweetened medicine, tempered by the sugar frost. He raised his eyes to look at Li Ying, who was bent over, blowing on the medicine. Her eyelashes were lowered as she earnestly helped cool the scalding liquid for him. When Cui Xun had been ill as a child, although there were maids to attend to his medicine, no one had ever cared for him with such sincerity, not because he was their master or someone who could benefit them, but simply because he was Cui Wangshu.

A warmth rose from his heart. He stared at Li Ying’s pure, clear face, forgetting to swallow the medicine brought to his lips.

Li Ying uttered a confused sound: “Eh?”

Only then did Cui Xun come to his senses. He opened his mouth and took the spoonful of medicine, though his eyes remained fixed on Li Ying.

During his illness, his black hair was simply pinned up with a jade hairpin, with a few strands hanging messily around his face. His cheeks, flushed with fever, looked as if they had been brushed with a thin layer of rouge, like drunken jade or a delicate sunset glow. Yet within this enchanting appearance was mingled a touch of sickly languor and fragility. Looking at him, Li Ying couldn’t help but catch her breath, her heart skipping half a beat. Her thoughts wandered: ancient texts spoke of Xi Shi clutching her heart in pain, which only enhanced her beauty. When she had read that, she hadn’t quite believed it—how could someone’s sickly appearance make them more beautiful? Now it seemed the ancients had not deceived her.

After these thoughts, Li Ying felt strangely guilty. She reproached herself—Cui Xun was already suffering from illness, and what confused thoughts was she having?

Due to her guilty conscience, she didn’t dare look at Cui Xun again. She simply continued to gently blow on the medicine and only raised her eyes to look at him when bringing it to his lips. But remembering her earlier thoughts, she quickly lowered her head again. Her movements now carried an air of shyness and timidity. She was naturally delicate and beautiful, and this added bashfulness made her truly adorable. Cui Xun’s heart couldn’t help but flutter.

As both harbored romantic thoughts, the continued feeding of medicine naturally took on a more intimate atmosphere. He took the white jade spoon she offered between his lips, his pitch-black eyes fixed steadily on her. She didn’t dare look at him, and on the rare occasions when she mustered the courage to raise her head and meet his gaze, he would quickly lower his eyes in embarrassment. By the time they reached the bottom of the half-bowl of medicine, both had reddened ears.

Seeing that the celadon medicine bowl was nearly empty, Li Ying said, “This prescription causes drowsiness. You should rest for a while.”

Cui Xun nodded and said, “You should go back too.”

Li Ying thought for a moment before saying, “I’d rather stay here, just in case.”

Cui Xun said, “I’ll be fine.”

“But…” Li Ying said, “Cui Xun, when you’re sick, don’t you want someone by your side?”

She had been ill before, and each time, her mother would stay by her sickbed. Sometimes her father would come as well. With loved ones nearby, her illnesses always seemed to heal especially quickly.

Hearing this, Cui Xun was momentarily stunned. After a while, he said with difficulty, “No one has ever stayed with me.”

He had often been sick as a child, but no one had been at his sickbed. In his youth, his health had improved, and he hadn’t fallen ill, so he hadn’t needed anyone. After returning from the Türks, his health had deteriorated again, and he frequently fell ill, but again, there had been no one.

So it wasn’t that he didn’t want someone there; it was that there had been no one.

Li Ying smiled. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

Cui Xun’s fingers slowly tightened on the brocade quilt. His lashes trembled almost imperceptibly. He murmured, “You… don’t blame me?”

“Blame you?”

“Yesterday…” Cui Xun carefully chose his words, but still couldn’t find the right way to express himself. Finally, he could only say, “I thought you would blame me.”

Blame him for rejecting her feelings.

Li Ying shook her head. “Cui Xun, I will never blame you.”

She paused, then added, “I’m waiting for you—waiting for you to have the courage to accept my feelings, waiting for you to allow me to call you Seventeenth Young Master.”

Cui Xun’s long lashes seemed to carry tiny crystal droplets. He lowered his eyes. “What if… You wait in vain?”

“How would I know it’s in vain if I don’t wait?”

Cui Xun fell silent. He only raised his hand, accompanied by the clanking of his shackles, and seemingly casually rubbed his eyes. Then he lowered his hand and softly said, “All right.”

After lighting a calming incense, Li Ying helped Cui Xun lie down.

The medicine contained ephedra and kudzu root, which induced drowsiness. Combined with the effect of the calming incense, Cui Xun quickly fell into a deep sleep. The ephedra and kudzu root also promoted sweating to release exterior pathogenic factors, so before long, Cui Xun’s forehead was covered with a fine layer of sweat. Li Ying prepared a basin of water, moistened a cloth, wrung it out, and carefully wiped the sweat from his forehead and face.

After the cold sweat was wiped away, Cui Xun was visibly more comfortable. His furrowed brow relaxed. But he had perspired so much that after wiping, the cloth was soaking wet, as if it had been submerged in water. It had to be washed and wrung out again after just a short while.

Li Ying didn’t complain at all. She patiently washed the cloth, wrung it out, and wiped the sweat from Cui Xun’s forehead. By sunset, Cui Xun was finally not as uncomfortable. Li Ying touched his forehead to feel his temperature; the fever seemed to have broken.

Li Ying finally breathed a sigh of relief. She massaged her sore waist, then stood up to empty the water from the silver basin. But as she rose, her hand was suddenly grasped by Cui Xun.

Cui Xun’s eyes remained tightly closed—he was still in a dream. His brow furrowed slightly again, and he murmured, “Mingyue Zhu…”

Li Ying froze. She didn’t leave but slowly sat down on the ebony floor. She leaned against the low huanghuali wood couch, quietly watching the sleeping Cui Xun. After a long while, she sighed. “How unfair. I haven’t even called you Seventeenth Young Master once, yet you’ve already called me Mingyue Zhu.”

She suddenly smiled and added, “Never mind, I won’t hold it against you. Get well soon. Though you look quite handsome when you’re sick—like Xi Shi clutching her heart in pain, as the books say—I still don’t want you to be ill. I hope you can be well, free from illness, disaster, and pain for your entire life.”

Cui Xun, deep in sleep, either dreamed of something or heard her words. A tear slowly rolled from the corner of his eye and disappeared into his jet-black sideburns.

Li Ying was startled. She reached out, her fingertip gently wiping away the tear track. “Why are you crying? Don’t worry, I won’t leave. I’ll stay with you.”

She paused, then added somewhat petulantly, “Just now you called me Mingyue Zhu, so for fairness’s sake, I should also call you Seventeenth Young Master.”

She slowly leaned on the couch, looking at his thick, fan-like black eyelashes, and murmured, “Seventeenth Young Master, from now on, when you’re suffering, you won’t be without company. I swear on my title as a Princess of the Great Zhou that I will stay with you. I will stay with you forever.”

Her hand was still held in Cui Xun’s palm. She allowed him to hold it while she quietly leaned by his couch, watching him sleep, without moving again.

While Cui Xun was ill, General Guo Qinwei’s head had arrived in Suzhou.

The soldiers escorting the head had been traveling for over ten days and were all exhausted. At Feiyun Relay Station, they carried the box containing the head into a room, posted guards outside, and the rest went to rest.

However, at the third watch of the night, the station master of Feiyun Relay Station walked to the storeroom carrying a wooden box. The two soldiers guarding the door exchanged glances and opened the door in unison. A moment later, the station master walked out carrying a wooden box. The two soldiers closed the door in perfect coordination, as if nothing had happened.

An Investigation Office spy who had been hiding nearby witnessed the entire process and thought, “Just as the Deputy Commissioner predicted, the Zhou relay stations are directly managed by the Ministry of War, and Pei Guanyue is the Minister of War. Pei Guanyue indeed switched the head at the relay station.”

Now that the head had been switched, the next steps of the plan could proceed.

In the latter half of the night, a cloud of bewildering smoke drifted with the wind, causing the two soldiers to become disoriented. At this moment, a spy holding a brocade box removed a tile from the roof, leaped into the room, and exchanged the white bones in his box with those in the container.

The spy moved extremely quickly. In just an instant, he had switched the bones, returned to the roof without a trace, replaced the tile, and then fled from Feiyun Relay Station with the spy who had been monitoring the situation.

Outside Feiyun Relay Station, a handsome young man in black clothes had been waiting for some time. The two spies bowed to him and said, “Master Yu, everything has been taken care of.”

Yu Fuwei nodded. The two spies greatly admired him. The plan had been devised by Cui Xun but was executed by Yu Fuwei. Execution was not easier than planning—if even one link went wrong, the entire operation would fail.

These Investigation Office spies had previously been quite suspicious of Yu Fuwei, wondering what abilities a merchant could possess. However, Cui Xun had strictly ordered them to follow Yu Fuwei’s commands, so they had no choice but to obey. To their surprise, Yu Fuwei had acted meticulously and flawlessly, considering even the wind direction, arranging everything at Feiyun Relay Station with perfect attention to detail.

The two spies sincerely said, “Thank you, Master Yu, for being willing to sacrifice your fortune and life to rescue our Deputy Commissioner.”

Yu Fuwei frowned. “My willingness to sacrifice my fortune and life is not to rescue him. It’s for someone else.”

But as he spoke, he recalled Ashina Jia’s words, “He never surrendered to the Türks,” and Li Ying’s statement, “He has given all his salary and rewards from the past three years to the families of his fallen comrades.” Yu Fuwei suddenly hesitated, then sighed. “Never mind, let’s say it is to rescue him.”