The elderly physician, facing a room full of people, felt the weight of their expectations keenly. He took her pulse with great care, twice, before speaking. “This old physician suspects it is that medicine taking effect. This kind of deep sleep is beneficial — it would be best not to wake her. Let her come to on her own.”
Hua Pingyu pressed him. “So Zhi’er is recovering?”
“Yes.” The old physician could not quite let it go and asked once more, “That medicine — is there truly none left? This old physician does not presume to covet it. I only wish to study it for a time. Perhaps it might inspire something — not this wonder drug itself, but even a fraction of its effect would be something.”
Gu Yanxi shook his head and offered no further explanation. Fortunately the old physician was an easygoing man and took no offense, though his regret was plain.
He had someone see the physician out. Hua Pingyu signaled the others to leave as well, leaving the room to Gu Yanxi. Hardship reveals character, and Gu Yanxi had, in his eyes, passed this test.
In the quiet room, Gu Yanxi held A’Zhi’s hand and pressed his lips to the scars on its back. He smiled. “You’re almost collecting as many scars as Shao Yao. No more adding to them after this.”
He smiled again. “Though I won’t mind them. No matter what, I won’t mind.”
“I should have had Shao Yao stay with you… No, that’s not right. I should never have left your side in the first place. You got hurt when there was no one protecting you — that I could understand. You got hurt when Shao Yao was with you — that was harder to swallow. And now you’ve been hurt right under my nose. How is it that danger just finds you everywhere?”
He pressed his lips to her hand once more and murmured, “Sometimes I almost wish you didn’t have all that capability. You’ve always known your own limits — if you didn’t, you’d probably stop running around everywhere. You hate being a burden, and you hate depending on others for everything. Do you even know? One single offhand word from you, and I’d give you my life.”
“Sometimes… I truly want to take you somewhere no one could ever find us, and have Shao Yao give you that medicine she takes — make you forget everyone and everything you care about. So you’d have no one to lean on but me. Would only look at me. Would only think of me.”
He said it with a smile, yet the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. He really had thought about it — more than once. But no matter how much he entertained the thought, he wanted A’Zhi to live the life she wanted to live more.
He pressed her hand to his chest and his voice softened to something almost honeyed. “Can you hear that? Every heartbeat says A’Zhi. I’m not asking you to answer every one of them — just give me half the space in your heart, and I’ll be satisfied. That’s not too greedy, is it?”
Gu Yanxi spoke to himself, brushing the hair from A’Zhi’s cheek, his gaze slowly turning to something helpless and tender. “You…”
You. Always making my heart ache so badly I could almost wish I didn’t have one.
As the sun climbed higher, the city grew lively bit by bit, and the area where the Hua family lived more so than anywhere else.
The men in black had all been taken away by Wu Rong, but the bloodstains across the street had yet to be cleaned. Those who had caught glimpses of what happened the night before spared no effort spreading word of Hua Zhi’s deeds. Already well-known, Hua Zhi’s name grew even more remarkable while she lay unconscious.
Walking through a trail of stories and rumors, Wu Rong knocked at the Hua family’s door, unable to keep a certain wonderment from his heart. He truly couldn’t fathom how the Hua family had raised a daughter like this. He rather wanted to learn their method — just in case, if he was ever so unfortunate as to have no son to carry on the family name, a daughter wouldn’t be any cause for worry.
Seeing Hua Yizheng, whose temples had gone visibly whiter overnight, Wu Rong felt a pang. Since Yinshan Pass became a place of exile, he had seen many condemned officials sent through for all manner of reasons — civil and military alike. Even those who had once stood at the height of power, once they had fallen, were no different from ordinary people. Some were tormented further still by political enemies who refused to let matters rest.
But the Hua family was the most composed family he had ever encountered. It wasn’t that there could be no resentment within them — but they bore it without complaint. Even hands accustomed to holding brushes that were now forced to grip hoes and shovels, wearing through to bloody blisters, were endured without a word of grievance shown to the outside world.
After Hua Zhi came to visit, they had settled themselves more completely still, took to their circumstances with greater purpose, and through the management office of the garrison had purchased large quantities of writing paper. He learned later that they had copied out many volumes of classical texts from memory — even the younger members had contributed. Between copying and finding ways to acquire more, the large bookcases the Hua family had specially ordered were now full, and they had begun filling a second.
The old master had also drawn up an entire framework of administrative systems for him with remarkable ease. While he was putting them into practice, he’d used the opportunity to go through Yinshan Pass from top to bottom. He had gone in prepared to find spies — but he had never expected to find so many.
Inspections like this were held every year. The year prior, only one had been uncovered. This time, moved up by two months, the results were as he had found them.
Part of it was his own fault — when he had been poisoned, his vigilance over every quarter had slackened. But he hadn’t imagined that in less than a year, Yinshan Pass, guarded by the Wu family across generations, had become a sieve. Nor had he imagined that someone would use the Hua family as a target for retaliation.
Or perhaps it was a warning — meant for him.
Whatever the case, this matter was inextricably bound to him, and the guilt weighed on him because of it.
“Old Sir, I…”
Hua Yizheng waved a hand. “I know right from wrong, General Wu. You need not explain yourself on my account.”
“This was the result of my own carelessness. Old Sir need not defend me.” Wu Rong smiled bitterly. What Hua Yizheng could reason out, he naturally could as well. “Has the eldest young lady woken?”
“Not yet. The physician said to let her wake on her own.” Hua Yizheng gestured for him to enter. Wu Rong deferred with a slight gesture, and the two walked one after the other toward the main room — the room that had been Hua Yizheng’s, now given over to Hua Zhi.
The door was open. Gu Yanxi sat on the edge of the bed; Hua Pingyu sat at the octagonal table. Neither spoke.
Seeing the two men enter, Hua Pingyu rose in greeting. “General Wu.”
Wu Rong gave a nod, then looked toward Gu Yanxi. “Brother.”
Gu Yanxi did not so much as glance at him. “Take those nine people into custody. Conduct a thorough inspection of everyone who has entered or left. Bring Zeng Han here.”
“Zeng Han?”
“Zeng Han’s son sent A’Zhi a letter warning her the Hua family was in danger.” Gu Yanxi finally withdrew his gaze from Hua Zhi and looked toward Wu Rong, his tone flat. “Zeng Han cannot be separated from this matter.”
“Then why would he—”
Why? Because A’Zhi had treated him as a human being. Because of A’Zhi’s compassion for those with nowhere to turn. Because A’Zhi had shown him a little extra care on account of his connection to Zheng Zhi — a warmth one extends to those tied to people one knows. Because A’Zhi had taken an interest in his son.
Gu Yanxi closed his eyes for a moment. “Sift through Yinshan Pass again. Sift it until nothing is left.”
Faced with the Shizi on the very edge of an eruption, Wu Rong did not dare press further. He acknowledged the order and left. He suddenly found himself feeling a strange pity for whoever stood behind all this. The Shizi clearly intended to pursue this to the very end, and this time it seemed nothing would hold him back.
Well. They had it coming.