At this moment, he…

The carriage jolted as it moved. Damp rain air seeped through the curtains, its edges becoming fuzzy in the lamplight.

Liu Ying was also dressed as a man. She opened the warmed food and looked toward Zhao Yān, who was holding her sleeve while writing with a brush, and said, “We’re still several days’ journey from the Western Capital frontline. Your Highness should rest a while.”

Hearing this, Zhao Yān gave a light cough, her voice slightly hoarse as she replied, “I’ll sleep after I finish this letter.”

Her fingers, injured by the bowstring, were wrapped in gauze, making it somewhat difficult to hold the brush. Her neck was also wrapped with a bandage, adding to her appearance of fragility, though her eyes remained bright and clear.

Liu Baiwei, bearing the identity of “the grandson of the Prince of Yingchuan,” could not easily leave the capital. Moreover, the old Prince was bedridden and near death. Though Liu Baiwei appeared carefree and heartless, he valued loyalty and affection deeply. Even with just one year of a grandfather-grandson relationship, he still chose to stay behind to accompany the old man on his final journey.

This morning, as they departed with the transport official, Liu Baiwei personally brought over a cage covered with oilcloth containing trained pigeons. He solemnly entrusted them to Zhao Yān, asking her to write daily letters reporting her safety. In case of any emergency on the road, he could promptly come to her aid.

The battle at the granary had truly frightened him deeply.

Amidst the continuous “coo-coo” sounds of the pigeons from the back of the carriage, Zhao Yān wrote the four characters “All is well” and handed the message to Gu Xing, who was traveling alongside them, to attach it to a pigeon for delivery.

Days of spring rain had made the roads wet and muddy, causing the grain transport convoy to trudge along with great difficulty.

Hurrying as best they could, they finally reached the Western Capital defense line on the seventh day.

…

…

The city gates opened, allowing carriages and horses to pass freely.

The experience of the long journey had not been pleasant, but the thought of soon seeing Wenren Lin made much of Zhao Yān’s soreness and fatigue instantly dissipate.

Upon arriving at the administrative office, she stepped down from the carriage with Liu Ying’s assistance, only to see Cai Tian hurrying out to receive them.

“…His Lordship led light cavalry on a night raid of the enemy camp and killed the King of Shu, Zhao Yuan’yu. His general, He Hu, abandoned the city and retreated to Huayin, still leading remnants of their forces in stubborn resistance, but they are like headless flies, unable to pose much threat. With the large supply of grain Your Highness personally escorted, our soldiers will press forward in one concerted effort. We believe we will eliminate the rebels and return victorious soon.”

Cai Tian led Zhao Yān, Gu Xing, and others to the main hall, briefly recounting the battle situation of the past few days.

Despite the heartening news of victory against the odds, Zhao Yān keenly noticed that Cai Tian and the royal guards were unusually solemn, showing no signs of joy.

Even if they were “not boasting in victory,” this was too abnormal.

“Where is your Lord?” Zhao Yān asked, looking around.

Cai Tian’s face showed hesitation, as if debating whether to tell her.

Zhao Yān’s heart sank, and she quickly asked, “Is he injured?”

As if confirming her ominous premonition, two loud bangs suddenly came from the rear courtyard.

Without waiting for Cai Tian, Zhao Yān strode through the central courtyard and the moon gate, only to see Zhang Cang’s burly figure, along with several royal guards, flying out of a room and rolling on the ground.

Zhang Cang grimaced in pain, spitting out a bloody froth before saying, “Damn it, he’s completely lost his senses! Physician Sun, please think of something quickly!”

“You must first hold him down before I can use acupuncture and medicine!” Physician Sun’s expression was grave as he firmly tapped his walking stick.

An unprecedented unease surged in her heart as Zhao Yān stepped forward and asked, “What has happened?”

Hearing her voice, Zhang Cang was startled and abruptly waved his hand, shouting, “Princess, do not come closer, it’s dangerous!”

Zhao Yān stopped in her tracks. What danger could there be in Wenren Lin’s temporary residence?

Just as she was pondering this, an intermittent dragging sound came from the room in the rear courtyard—like the sound of cold iron chains being dragged across the floor.

In the wide-open doorway, a tall silhouette gradually appeared. Everyone’s hearts seemed to be gripped by a terrifying force, pounding wildly like drums.

As the figure approached, Zhao Yān finally clearly saw the scene before her, and her blood ran cold.

Wenren Lin’s black battle armor was covered in fresh blood and marks from swords and blades. Some wounds had penetrated the armor and injured his body. Iron chains bound his arms and waist, but they had already snapped and were now dragging on the ground with a rustling sound. His black hair hung loose, moving as if there were a wind though there was none. His face was paler than she had ever seen, the only color being the fresh blood on his lips and his dark red eyes…

With each step he took, new blood oozed out, dripping along the iron chains—a kind of beauty that was almost tragic.

Yet he showed no sign of pain…

No, he showed no signs of any normal human sensation, only emptiness and cruelty.

Only now did Zhao Yān see Wenren Lin’s true appearance when the poison took effect, like a demon or an asura descended to the mortal world.

“Wenren… Lin.”

It took Zhao Yān quite some time to find her voice. “I have medicine, I…”

Before she could finish speaking, a piercing cold wind rushed toward her. Zhao Yān looked up to see that figure, shrouded in heavy killing intent, had already darted in front of her!

The broken chain was flung high and caught in time by Zhang Cang and Cai Tian, who pulled hard in opposite directions.

Wenren Lin’s arms were instantly stretched taut. After a moment’s pause, he wrapped the chains around both wrists and yanked back violently! Zhang Cang and Cai Tian’s faces turned red, veins bulging, their boots scraping against the ground, yet they could not withstand Wenren Lin’s strength.

He appeared to be enduring extreme pain, fighting to the death.

Zhao Yān’s pupils trembled, but she forced herself to stay calm and ordered hoarsely, “Go help them, quickly…”

Gu Xing and Prince Su’s guards rushed forward. It took about ten people helping Cai Tian and Zhang Cang to pull the chains before they could barely match Wenren Lin’s explosive strength.

With both arms bound, dark blue veins bulged beneath Wenren Lin’s pale skin. The man who was always elegant and steady had completely degenerated into a monster devoid of reason.

Zhao Yān suppressed the constriction in her throat, gripped the medicine bottle tightly, and began to move slowly and carefully toward him.

“Princess, don’t go near! His Lordship has lost his mind to the poison; he’s completely out of control!” Zhang Cang shouted through gritted teeth, “He doesn’t recognize anyone right now and might hurt you!”

When she was less than ten paces from Wenren Lin, Zhao Yān stopped.

“Wenren Shao Yuan!”

Zhao Yān, red-eyed, called out with all her strength, “Grand Tutor, wake up!”

With that slightly choked shout, a gust of wind blew through the eaves, causing the wind chimes below the window to emit a crisp collision sound.

Wenren Lin seemed to freeze. His arms suddenly went slack, and his confused dark pupils instinctively sought the direction of the voice.

Zhao Yān quickly moved forward and caught his sinking form.

Though Zhang Cang and Cai Tian found this miraculous, they dared not relax their grip on the chains, remaining vigilant in case of any change.

Zhao Yān heard the rattling of the chains—it was Wenren Lin trembling in extreme pain. Once reason returned, it meant that the pain, unbearable to ordinary people, would also flood back with redoubled force.

His eyes still lacked focus, blood flowing from his mouth and nose, yet he accurately called out the name of his beloved, his voice broken and hoarse from deep in his throat.

“Yān… Yān…”

His breath was cold and trembling, and even his eyes oozed blood. “…come home.”

After saying this, Wenren Lin’s head rested heavily on Zhao Yān’s shoulder. His eyes gently closed, and all the killing intent that had surrounded him subsided, docilely gathered around her.

“Grand Tutor, I’m waiting for you to come home.” Outside Lingyun Temple, he had once promised her.

So, he had never forgotten.

Zhao Yān carefully supported the temporarily unconscious Wenren Lin, finally exhaling the breath she had been holding, and tears streamed down her face.

“It’s alright. We’ll be home soon.”

…

Wenren Lin’s wounds had been cleaned, and his bloodied clothes changed. His sleeping face was peaceful, but his jaw remained clenched. In the end, Zhao Yān had to grind the pills into powder, mix them with water, and personally feed them bit by bit.

It seemed that only upon hearing her voice would Wenren Lin’s formidable defenses relax somewhat.

“He’s been taking the medicine for several hours now. Why is his body still so cold?”

Zhao Yān held Wenren Lin’s fingers, now cleaned of blood, and cupped them between her palms to warm them.

Physician Sun removed the silver needles, stroked his beard, closed his eyes, and felt the pulse. After a while, he finally told the truth.

“This medicine cannot completely cure the poison in His Lordship’s body.”

“What do you mean?”

Zhao Yān suddenly felt as if she had fallen into an ice cave. “But this is the antidote he’s been taking every month.”

Physician Sun withdrew his hand and sighed, “This medicine, which I have studied before, seems to be missing several key ingredients. It can only temporarily suppress the poison’s effects, addressing the urgent need.”

So that was it.

Zhao Yān pressed her lips together. “He never told me these things.”

She had thought this was the antidote, just slow-acting, which was why Wenren Lin needed to take it monthly.

What he always showed her was his invincible side.

Physician Sun’s tone was grave: “Recently, the snake medicine has been destroyed. I’ve tried several different prescriptions as substitutes. The difficulty lies in the fact that this young man has been poisoned for eight years. The poison has penetrated too deeply, and after killing the King of Shu among thousands, his strength is exhausted, damaging his vital energy. It can no longer be suppressed. I wonder if the person who gave Your Highness this medicine is still around. If so, perhaps they could reveal the true antidote formula.”

Zhao Yān’s throat tightened as she said hoarsely, “She… is dead.”

Seeing her pale face, Physician Sun felt compassion and said kindly, “Your Highness, do not worry. We still have a few pills that can buy us some time, allowing me to reconsider a new prescription.”

Zhao Yān stood up and bowed solemnly to Physician Sun. “I entrust him to your care.”

“Your Highness is of noble birth and should not bow to a commoner like me.”

Physician Sun rose shakily and returned an even deeper bow. “Healing the sick is a physician’s duty. Rest assured, Your Highness, both publicly and privately, I will use all my knowledge to ensure his safety. I notice Your Highness is injured as well. Please allow me to prescribe medicine for you so that you may recover quickly without leaving scars.”

After changing the medicine, Physician Sun, Cai Tian, and the others withdrew.

Liu Ying entered with clean water and a towel, attending to Zhao Yān as she washed.

“Your Highness should go to sleep. I will take your place for a while.”

Zhao Yān shook her head, dipped her hands in the copper basin, leaned forward, and splashed some water on her face. Her curled eyelashes dripped with water.

“I can’t sleep. Let me be alone for a while.”

The moon in the Western Capital was bright. The plantain leaves outside the window seemed coated with a layer of cold wax, emitting a dark green luster under the moonlight.

“Wenren Lin, the day I jumped from the watchtower, I dreamed of Zhao Yǎn.”

Zhao Yān sat cross-legged on the footstool, her hand resting on the edge of the bed near her cheek, examining his deep brow ridge in the warm, dim candlelight.

He must be in great pain; his fingers resting at his side were white-knuckled, with protruding veins.

“I dreamed we were walking on a winding mountain path with no end in sight. Just as we were about to descend the mountain, he suddenly stopped, smiling, looking at me from afar. He said he could no longer accompany me down…”

Zhao Yān sniffled and pressed her forehead against Wenren Lin’s icy cheek. “I’ve gone through countless hardships to reach this point. I can’t lose you, too. You are the one who keeps your promises best. Back then, when I wanted to ask for a promise from you, you admonished me that ‘promises should not be made lightly, lest people let me down.’ There’s no reason for you to break your word after making a promise to me…”

“Wenren Shao Yuan, hold on a little longer.”

As the moon tilted westward, the bedding beneath her hand moved, and Zhao Yān awoke with a start.

She opened her eyes to see Wenren Lin looking at her with his dark, beautiful eyes. His pale fingers were suspended in mid-air, as if he wanted to touch the bowstring wound on her neck.

“Yān Yān.”

He called to her in a soft, hoarse voice, his dark eyes very deep. “Does your neck hurt?”

Zhao Yān slowly shook her head. She feared that if she spoke, the dream would end.

She slowly reached out and touched his frost-white cheek, confirming it wasn’t a dream, and a hot ache rushed to her nose.

“How are you feeling? Where are you uncomfortable?”

She suddenly sat up straight but winced with an “ouch” as the sudden movement pulled at her stiff, painful neck.

Wenren Lin carefully touched the bandage on her neck, his voice soft and hoarse: “I’m a bit cold.”

“I’ll have someone bring you another cotton quilt.”

Zhao Yān rose to leave, but Wenren Lin extended his hand to hold her fingers, gently enclosing them in his cool palm.

“Bedding has no warmth. A thin quilt feels like iron. How can it warm me?”

Wenren Lin slowly rubbed the tips of Zhao Yān’s bandaged slender fingers with his fingertips. His sickly complexion made his features appear even more profound.

“Then I’ll move a charcoal brazier over for you.”

“Poor charcoal creates smoke that would be unpleasant to breathe.”

“…”

Zhao Yān looked at the now-lucid Wenren Lin, her heart surging with emotions, and smiled with reddened eyes. “Wenren Shao Yuan, how do you want to get warm?”

“What could warm my heart better than Your Highness’s fragrant softness?”

Wenren Lin half-closed his eyes, slowly raised his hand, and patted the half of the bed he had made room for.