Silence.

Only silence answered him.

She appeared not to have heard, and those two hands of hers continued doing their work upon his back.

Xie Changgeng turned his head and looked at her.

Her gaze remained fixed on the wound on his back. A youthful face, clear as still water. The lamplight shone on her downcast jet-black lashes, casting two gentle, cool, arc-shaped shadows beneath her eyes.

If that child had not been standing there alive and in person before him, she — looking at her like this — did not in the least resemble a woman who had borne a child.

She set down the knife, picked up the medicine vial, scooped some ointment out with the small pestle, and applied it to his wounds, wrapping the bandage around them.

“Have someone change the dressing for you each day. Do not get caught in the rain or let the wound get wet.”

She finished speaking and extended her hand toward him.

A hand — white and soft, carrying a faint jade-cool touch — pressed lightly against his forehead, feeling for his temperature.

The moment that hand pressed down, Xie Changgeng closed his eyes.

She withdrew her hand quickly.

“There is a slight fever, possibly from the wound. I’ll write out a prescription. Follow the prescription to decoct the medicine — three doses a day — and make sure to rest properly.”

He slowly straightened up and put his garment back on.

Her gaze still had not turned to him. Having finished her instructions, she turned around, walked to the table, and with her back to him, took up paper and brush. As she leaned over, deliberating over the dosages, she suddenly heard from behind her an abrupt voice: “Mu Shi, what exactly have I done to you that you should hate me so?”

Her hand paused, then continued writing. She said: “That day, I thought Xi’er was in all likelihood gone — that is what made me lose control for a moment and stab you. You did not hold it against me, and you helped me find Xi’er. No matter what, I owe you my thanks…”

A shadow fell over her from behind. A hand reached forward and gripped the hand she was writing with.

Mu Fulan’s lashes gave the faintest flutter, and she kept her eyes cast down.

“Would you release me? I am writing your prescription…” she said.

He pulled the brush from her hand and flung it aside.

The ink clinging to the brush hairs splattered, dotting the surface of the desk in scattered specks.

“You know what I mean!” He bent down toward her, speaking into her ear. His tone carried a trace of barely suppressed grievance.

Mu Fulan raised her head, turned her face, and met Xie Changgeng’s two eyes looking straight at her.

He stared at her, his gaze dark and brooding.

Mu Fulan had barely moved when he had already seized her hand and, pulling her along, forced her to turn to face him.

She lost her footing for a moment, her body swaying slightly, and her forehead knocked against his chin.

A wave of warm breath washed over her face.

Just like that, she found herself caught off guard, trapped between this man and the writing desk behind her.

He said: “Mu Shi, it is true that when I came to ask for your hand, I stood in the way of you and that man on Mount Jun. But at the time I was merely going to seek a marriage — I was not forcing you. Your father the King had his own considerations in agreeing to the match. You were a princess — even if your heart was elsewhere at the time, from the day your father granted the marriage, you should have put it aside and placed your husband first.”

“After the betrothal was made, I kept my word and ensured the Changsha Kingdom’s safety. Not only that — firstly, I did not hinder you from secretly bearing a child; secondly, I played no part in the death of your beloved. How he died has not the slightest connection to me!”

“I make no effort to hide it — my origins are low. But to have come this far — did you imagine I achieved it in a single step simply through the marriage alliance with your Changsha Kingdom? Through those three years, I fought across mountains and borders, brushing shoulders with death time and again. Three years later, I married you as promised. In what way have I wronged you, that you should treat me like this?”

His voice grew gradually agitated, his breath falling wave upon wave against her ear and face. His body temperature was already somewhat elevated, and now it grew all the more feverish. That heat seemed to permeate the weave of their garments and seep against her skin beneath.

Mu Fulan felt a prickling across her flesh.

He stopped. His chest rose and fell slightly, as if he were calming the emotions within him at that moment.

“Look at me.”

After a moment, Mu Fulan heard him speak to her in the tone of a command.

She slowly raised her eyes and met a pair of gaze bearing down on her, dark and brooding.

He looked at her and said: “Mu Shi, I have given it thought. This time it truly was my own recklessness that put your son in danger, and he nearly came to harm. The fault is mine, and it will not happen again. But if not for your repeated deceptions before — insulting me too greatly, pushing me past what I could endure — where would I have gotten the state of mind to quarrel with a woman like you?”

“Ask yourself honestly: from beginning to end, is it I, Xie Changgeng, who wronged you first — or is it that you yourself acted without restraint, going too far beyond propriety?”

The surroundings fell quiet. All that remained at his ear was his breathing, heavy with barely contained anger, sounding distinctly clear.

Mu Fulan tilted her face slightly, meeting the gaze of the man who still had her hemmed in before her, and in her heart, a sudden feeling swept through her — like the utter helplessness of one sinking deep into the mud of fate.

Since she had returned to the Changsha Kingdom and he had come after her, clashes like this between them had already occurred far too many times.

And this time, compared to before, his fury was far more restrained — and beyond the fury, his tone also betrayed something previously absent: a measure of aggrieved complaint, and even something like being wronged.

How could she fail to hear it.

To be sure, it was unjust to make someone answer for what they had never done in this lifetime.

But one day, his ambitions would reveal the coldness buried in his blood — she knew that.

Having not yet drunk from the River of Forgetting, how dare she forget the past.

She finally opened her mouth and asked him: “Then, what do you want?”

“Mu Shi, I do not need you to kneel and confess your wrongs before me, nor do I intend to make things difficult for you any further. But from now on, you must remember this: as long as I am your husband for a single day, you must fulfill your duties as a wife!”

He lowered his face, looking at her, and slowly spoke these words from his mouth.

The candleflame on the desk flickered and leaped.

Beneath that dim, shadowed gaze, it seemed as though an undercurrent moved in silence. The hand gripping hers had not let go the entire time, still keeping her trapped between himself and the writing desk at her back.

After a moment, she moved her hand, attempting to pull free from his burning palm, and said in a low voice: “The prescription hasn’t been finished yet…”

“I haven’t slept well these past days while I was out — I’m exhausted. Tonight I’ll come back to the room early to rest. Have the medicine ready for me.”

He looked at her, his voice low and even, and after speaking, he released her hand and walked out.

…

In the middle hour of the evening, Xi’er had bathed and changed into sleeping clothes, and was sitting up in bed.

She had come out in such a hurry on this trip that she had brought only two handmaids — Danzhu and Zhuyu. The two of them were just now in the adjoining room, making up Xi’er’s bed.

Mu Fulan examined the wounds on the soles of the child’s feet.

The wounds had healed very well — fully closed, with new flesh grown in.

“Mother, they stopped hurting long ago.”

Mu Fulan felt a complete and utter relief, and recalling that he had sneaked off to Xie Changgeng’s study earlier that evening, she said: “But for the next few days, you must still not run around, do you understand? The flesh hasn’t fully firmed up yet — be careful not to rub your skin raw again.”

Xi’er nodded. “I know. Today I went to find Lord Xie because I wanted to give the little horse a name. Mother, he praised me for being brave — said the horse and I are alike.”

There was a small note of pride in the child’s voice.

Mu Fulan said nothing, only smiled, and picked up a pair of soft socks, slipping them onto his little feet.

As if sensing the subtle shift in her mood, Xi’er stopped bringing up “Lord Xie” — the name his mother seemed not to want to hear — and closed his mouth.

“Mother, are we going home soon?”

After a while, as Mu Fulan was tying the cords of his socks, she heard the child suddenly ask her this.

She looked up, meeting Xi’er’s eyes as he watched her, and was deliberating over how to answer when from behind her came a voice: “Your foal is still young right now. It does best growing up in Hexi — in another place, it would easily fall ill. It won’t be fit to leave until at least next spring, when it is half a year old. Would you be willing to stay here and keep it company as it grows?”

“Lord Xie, you’re back!”

Xi’er called out to him at once, immediately began to scramble off the bed, glanced at his mother, and stopped.

Mu Fulan turned around.

Xie Changgeng had come in and was standing beside the partition screen.

“Mother, Lord Xie says Little Dragon Horse is still small and can’t travel yet — can we wait until it’s grown before we go back?” Xi’er looked at Mu Fulan, his face full of pleading.

Before Mu Fulan could answer, she heard Xie Changgeng say: “If she doesn’t shake her head, that means she’s agreeing.”

“Mother?”

Xi’er’s eyes went wide, looking at Mu Fulan.

Mu Fulan slowly nodded.

Xi’er’s face broke into a look of delight.

A handmaid came in and said: “Madam, the young lord’s bed is made.”

Mu Fulan noticed Xie Changgeng’s two eyes on her. She suppressed the wave of irritation that rose within her and said gently to the child on the bed: “Xi’er, time to sleep now. Mother will take you to your room — shall we go?”

Xi’er glanced at Xie Changgeng and nodded.

Mu Fulan was just about to pick Xi’er up when Xie Changgeng walked over and said: “Have someone prepare water for me and bring me the medicine.”

He bent down, lifted the little one from the bed, turned and walked out, carried him into the adjoining room, set him down on the bed, told him to lie down, and tucked in the covers.

“Sleep!”

Xi’er immediately shut his eyes.

Xie Changgeng cast a look around, and was walking over to close the window when from behind him came a child’s voice: “Lord Xie, does your back still hurt a lot?”

He turned his head and saw the child had opened his eyes, sitting up on the bed, watching him.

“Sir, please don’t blame my mother. I’ll speak to her — tell her never to do that to you again…”

Xie Changgeng looked at the little one on the bed, and felt his heart gradually, slowly, soften.

He closed the window and came back, telling the little one: “It’s not hurting anymore. I don’t blame her.”

Xi’er let out a breath of relief and said: “Thank you, sir. Then also remember to listen to my mother — don’t be afraid of the medicine being bitter. Take it properly, and you’ll get better soon.”

Xie Changgeng nodded, told him to lie back down, and said: “Go to sleep.”

Xi’er closed his eyes again.

Xie Changgeng turned to leave — then heard the child call out to him again.

He stopped, and turned his head.

“Sir, will you be sleeping with my mother every night from now on?”

He saw that the child had opened his eyes again, asking in a small voice. His little body was curled under the blanket, tucked up in a tiny round bundle, only a small face peeking out, two eyes fixed on him.

Xie Changgeng was taken aback.

“Sister Zhuyu said that you and my mother are husband and wife, so you have to sleep together at night. She told me to be good and sleep on my own, and not to cling to Mother. She and Sister Danzhu will keep me company.” He added another sentence.

Xie Changgeng came back to himself. Facing that pair of eyes looking at him — half-understanding, pure and clear — he suddenly felt a twinge of guilt in his heart, as though he were snatching something cherished away from a small child.

He coughed once: “If you don’t want to sleep alone, then you can go back to her room…”

The little bundle under the blanket shook his head.

“Sir, you go ahead and sleep with her. I just want to ask you — can you please treat her better and not bully her? Also, my mother is very faint of heart. When there’s thunder, she gets scared. She holds me, and I hold her, and that way she isn’t afraid. Next time if it rains and there’s thunder, sir, remember to hold her.”

Xie Changgeng could not help feeling a burning rush of heat creep up his face, and said vaguely: “I understand. Go to sleep now.”

The child murmured on and on, and at last, having delivered all his instructions, seemed to set his heart at ease. He let out a yawn and slowly closed his eyes.