Everyone thought Shao Yao was being absurd — yet no one moved to stop her. Things had reached this point; any approach was worth trying.

Bao Xia truly went in. Her tone urgent, she knelt before the bed and delivered her message with all the conviction of someone reporting a genuine catastrophe: “Young miss, young miss, something terrible has happened — Shao Yao has returned from Xinyuguan without imperial sanction upon hearing that you’ve fallen ill, and the Emperor is going to have her head! Please wake up, please wake up at once!”

As was to be expected, not the slightest stir.

Shao Yao stood there gnawing on her finger and turning in circles, murmuring to herself: “It’s wrong — that’s not the right way to say it. Xiao Liu’er was taught by Hua Zhi herself. She knows for certain that he wouldn’t turn on someone so quickly. Yes — I didn’t think this through.”

The Emperor again: “……”

Shao Yao abruptly stopped pacing and walked straight into the room. She kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the far side of the bed, pulled out a concealed dagger from somewhere on her person — giving no one any chance to stop her — and drew it cleanly across her own forearm. Blood welled up at once and dripped down onto the bedding.

She stretched her hand forward toward Hua Zhi’s face, letting blood fall onto her — onto her body, onto her face. “Hua Zhi, can you smell the blood? It’s mine. It’s mine. You care for me most, don’t you? It hurts so much. Come blow on it for me. Get up and scold me… come on…”

Even holding herself back, Shao Yao’s voice cracked in the end into a choked sob. She was so grieved, so terribly grieved — her heart felt as though it had sunk all the way down to the soles of her feet, dragging at her with a weight that made it hard to breathe.

She had imagined many versions of what the future might look like, but in every single one of them Hua Zhi was there. She dared not picture what would become of any of them if that person were gone. Yanxi would not survive it. And if both Hua Zhi and Yanxi were gone, she would not want to live on either. Not at all!

“Son-in-law!”

Son-in-law… Shao Yao lifted her tear-blurred gaze — and saw that Yanxi had drawn a blade across his own arm as well. He was bleeding far more freely than she was. She wanted to weep, yet she also wanted to laugh. Yanxi was so petty — he had to outdo her in everything, even down to making his wound bigger than hers.

The Emperor, drawn by the sounds from inside, could not help stepping into the room. The Hua Family members had long been yearning to enter; at this point they held back no longer and followed one after another. When they took in the scene before them, no one spoke. No one knew what else there was to say.

Reckless? In a way — anyone could see the Prince Regent was on the edge of collapse, and no one would find it strange if he did something extreme.

Foolish? Perhaps by others’ measure. Yet he was clearly entering into it of his own free will.

As for the one who had raced back from thousands of miles away — even those who had not previously known how close she and the Grand Tutor were now understood it plainly. But what use could a method like this possibly have…

“Yanxi! Do you see it?! Do you see?!”

Shao Yao’s voice cracked to a screech; Gu Yanxi’s own was not much steadier: “Her eyes moved. Quickly — take her pulse!”

Shao Yao dashed the tears from her face and at once seized Hua Zhi’s wrist — but it was no good. No good, her own heart was hammering far too violently. So she threw back her head and shouted: “Master! Master, come quickly!”

The elder physician had made his way to the doorway at the first sound, but the crowd ahead had him blocked from entering. When he responded, the people in the middle immediately parted to open a path. He stepped forward quickly and took her pulse.

“The pulse has returned — it’s back!” The elder physician examined her again carefully, then pushed through the gathered people and went to write his prescription. “Go and fetch the medicine at once. Bring the ginseng broth.”

Fu Dong flew over with a bowl in hand, not a single drop spilled.

“Try feeding her — see if there is any response.”

Gu Yanxi held her up, settling her against his chest, and accepted the ginseng broth. He took a mouthful and passed it to her lips. His hand rested at A’Zhi’s throat. After a long moment he looked back toward everyone, his expression caught between laughter and tears: “She is swallowing! A’Zhi is swallowing!”

Faint as the movement was, she was truly swallowing!

“Excellent! Excellent beyond measure!”

Zhu Shi burst into open weeping. Two years of her husband’s exile had barely left a mark on her face, yet these past few days had carved her visibly hollow.

“Divine Physician Yu.” Hua Yizheng’s lips worked open and closed several times before he could form the words. “What… what must we do?”

The elder physician swept his gaze over the entire room full of people staring at him with beseeching eyes. “All of you may now go and sleep soundly for the night. This old man pledges upon the reputation built over decades of practice — the eldest young miss will most certainly wake.”

“Then that is good — that is wonderful.” Hua Yizheng blinked back the redness in his eyes and gazed at the figure on the bed still being fed ginseng broth, Shao Yao weeping and laughing beside her — and found the scene, strange as it was, entirely right.

Without making it obvious, he dabbed at the corner of his eye and turned to give his instructions: “Remaining here will do none of you any good. Go on — go back, attend to your affairs, rest yourselves properly. Don’t let Zhi’er wake and find you all looking this haggard.”

Everyone assented and began to withdraw. The Emperor, however, did not leave. Nor did he go to disturb those three on the bed. He walked to the elder physician and asked: “When will the Grand Tutor wake?”

“Within three days or so.” The elder physician drew his silver needles from his medicine case. “Your Majesty need not worry. What does not break, strengthens — for the eldest young miss, this is not a bad thing. Though it will take some time, this old man will do everything in his power to restore her to full health.”

“We ask that you spare no effort. We hope the Grand Tutor will live to a hundred years.”

The elder physician inclined his head respectfully and passed the silver needles to his junior disciple. “Go and walk the needles.”

“Yes.” Shao Yao lifted her face, smiling brightly — all her energy and spirit fully restored.

Three days. Among all the people coming and going through the Hua Family, that measure of time lodged in every mind.

As the time drew nearer and Hua Zhi had still not wakened, hearts began to tighten again — the fear that this had been nothing but a false joy.

When the light of dawn began to slowly brighten, Gu Yanxi opened his eyes. Out of habit, he looked down at the person in his arms — and saw her smiling up at him. By instinct he smiled in return, and only then did the meaning of what he was seeing reach him. His mouth fell open, ready to call out — but his body moved before any thought could, and he held the person in his embrace fiercely tight.

He had waited and waited, hoped and hoped — and at last he had waited long enough, hoped hard enough!

His A’Zhi had not left him behind!

Hua Zhi tried to lift her arm to return his embrace, but just then, apart from her mind — which could still turn a few thoughts — every other part of her body seemed to no longer belong to her. She could only accept the embrace, and let herself rest in it. It was a little tight. But it felt safe.

“Son-in-law?” Ying Chun heard the movement and ventured a question.

“Go and invite Elder Physician Yu and Shao Yao.”

Ying Chun seemed to understand what this meant, and clapped a hand over her mouth as she went flying out.

Shao Yao was sleeping in the next room — where Gu Yanxi had deposited her — and came running over without even putting on her outer robe.

She took the pulse. The improvement was real, unmistakable. She could not hold back any longer — she buried her face against Hua Zhi’s chest and sobbed with her whole body, wailing loudly. She had nearly lost her home again!

The elder physician arrived. The members of each branch of the Hua Family arrived. And later, even the Emperor came. Though Hua Zhi still slept more than she woke, simply knowing she was getting better was the most effective reassurance anyone could have hoped for.

Hua Zhi found the strength to speak again another three days later — her voice hoarse, yet to the ears of all who cared for her, it was the sweetest of sounds.

“I only fell asleep. Perhaps it is because it has been too long since I had a sleep I could truly give myself over to.” Hua Zhi smiled. “I did not even dream a single dream.”

Author’s note: I’m sorry — every word of this was painstakingly wrung out.