“Shen Zhuxi,” Li Wu said in a low, firm voice, “what were you thinking when you grabbed that branch and came to save me?”

“I — I wasn’t thinking anything…” Shen Zhuxi murmured, leaning dazedly against his chest.

The position was uncomfortable — unfamiliar, constrained — and it made her heart race. She panicked and tried to pull free, but in the next instant, Li Wu drew her deeper into his embrace.

Her palm landed squarely over his heartbeat.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. It overlapped and intertwined with her own frantic pulse.

“Weren’t you afraid?” Li Wu said, his voice low.

His quiet breath was like a gentle evening breeze carrying the warmth of a setting sun — fervent yet not violent, soft enough to stir Shen Zhuxi’s own breathing into disarray.

There was no escaping, no hiding. She had no choice but to bury her reddening face deeper into Li Wu’s chest.

“I was afraid…” she whispered. “But in that moment, I don’t know why — I suddenly wasn’t anymore…”

After a long silence, Li Wu let out a sigh above her head.

“…You really are a little fool.”

Sensing that the hold of Li Wu’s arms had loosened somewhat, Shen Zhuxi immediately tried to slip free. But the moment she rose, Li Wu caught her by the chin.

He held her gaze, tilting her this way and that until she swayed unsteadily, and Shen Zhuxi let out a small cry of protest.

“Don’t be so reckless next time,” he said.

“It’s all because of you — you were hurt!”

Before she even finished speaking, she caught sight of a patch of red at his elbow. Blood had soaked through the cloth of his garment, staining a wide swath of fabric around his elbow — when she touched it, it felt like a garment that had drunk its fill of water in a washbasin, heavy and sodden. Shen Zhuxi touched it lightly and recoiled in fright.

She was so anxious that tears nearly sprang to her eyes. She looked at Li Wu in helpless panic. “What do we do? What do we do? Should we bandage it now? How do we bandage it? Teach me — “

“Little fool.” Seeing her like this, Li Wu actually smiled. “A small wound like this won’t kill me.”

“You call this small?!” Shen Zhuxi was frantic.

“For me, it’s small,” Li Wu said quietly.

“Can you stand? Do you need me to support you?”

“Of course I can — ” Li Wu paused. “No, I can’t.”

A low groan rose from Li Wu’s throat, as though he was in considerable pain. He pressed a hand to his forehead, brow furrowed slightly, and said slowly, “I think I’ve lost too much blood. I’m a little dizzy. You’d better support me after all.”

Without a second thought, Shen Zhuxi said, “All right!”

She slipped under Li Wu’s arm and used her own body to help him to his feet. Li Wu swayed, and most of his weight pressed against her. Shen Zhuxi strained to hold him steady, and to keep him from toppling over, she had no choice but to wrap her arm around his waist.

“Bear with it… once we’re down the mountain, we’ll find a doctor right away…” she said.

Li Wu responded weakly, “I’ll do whatever you say.”

The mountain path was rough and uneven, the ground littered with wild stones and weeds. Shen Zhuxi half-supported, half-carried a grown man down the slope, and before long she was drenched in sweat.

Though Li Wu could barely walk, his spirits were quite good — his mouth never stopped:

“Almost there.”

“Just a little farther.”

“We’re nearly there.”

Shen Zhuxi was so exhausted she nearly wanted to stab herself and lie down too. If not for the thought of Li Wu’s injury, she would have liked nothing more than to sew shut the incessantly chattering mouth on this man she was dragging along!

After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the foot of the mountain and caught sight of Xiangyang’s city walls at the far end. Shen Zhuxi could not take another step. She gasped for breath and said:

“How about — how about… you wait — wait here… I’ll go find… find a cattle — a cart to carry you…”

Li Wu’s expression became troubled. He looked down at the wound on his elbow, his face a picture of sorrow.

Shen Zhuxi gritted her teeth.

“All right… all right… let’s — let’s go together… keep walking… hold on just a little — little longer…”

She wrung the last reserves of strength from her body and supported Li Wu toward the eastern gate of Xiangyang at the end of the mountain road.

She did not know whether it was because her body had gone numb, but Li Wu’s weight seemed to have lightened somewhat, and walking became easier. Finally — just before she collapsed — Shen Zhuxi came across an ox cart heading back into the city.

To encounter an ox cart at this moment was no different from a parched land meeting sweet rain, a desert meeting an oasis, a privy meeting paper — it was profoundly moving, and Shen Zhuxi nearly burst into grateful tears on the spot.

She eagerly paid the fare and, panting and grunting, hauled Li Wu — who was as heavy as an actual ox — up onto the cart.

“Where are you headed?” asked the carter driving the ox.

“To the doctor’s…” Shen Zhuxi hadn’t finished the word before Li Wu sat up straight, cutting her off, and gave the address of the courtyard house instead.

“You’re not going to the doctor’s?” Shen Zhuxi said urgently.

“All the physicians here are quacks who’d rob you blind without blinking. There’s still medicine at home from Doctor Tang — I’ll put it on when we get back and it’ll be fine.”

Shen Zhuxi was uneasy, but Li Wu insisted nothing was seriously wrong and absolutely had to go home to apply the medicine.

She could not dissuade him and was so angry she wanted to land a punch right on his wound. If it was nothing serious, then why had he looked half-faint from blood loss all the way down the mountain?!

The ox cart brought them to the gate of the courtyard house and let them off. As Shen Zhuxi was helping Li Wu through the gate, Li Kun and Li Que happened to be walking in from the alley outside. The moment they caught sight of Li Wu’s condition, they came rushing over one after another.

“Elder Brother! How did you get hurt?” Li Que frowned.

“Blood. You’re bleeding.” Li Kun’s brow creased with worry as he stared at his arm.

“Let’s go inside first,” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi had been thinking that with the two younger brothers here, she could finally rest a moment — but just as she began to loosen her hold, Li Wu hooked an arm around her and reeled her back in.

“You want me to fall and die so you can be a widow?” The Li Wu who had been perfectly fine a moment ago now seemed to be at death’s door once more.

A sudden suspicion rose in Shen Zhuxi’s mind: this scoundrel — could he be using this as an excuse to take advantage of her?

The thought struck her like a thunderclap!

So that was it! This wretched man was truly despicable!

“I’m not falling for your tricks!”

Shen Zhuxi shoved him indignantly toward Li Kun and strode off to the rear courtyard on her own. Li Que stopped Li Kun from trying to follow and shook his head at him with a smile. “Come with me, I’ll take you to find something to eat.”

Li Wu straightened up and sauntered after Shen Zhuxi’s footsteps with casual ease.

“I’m teaching you something here — the men of this world are full of schemes, so don’t fall for their tricks.”

“You’re the most scheming of all!” Shen Zhuxi turned her head and called back at him furiously.

Li Wu chuckled and scratched his nose — not from shame, but because being called such a thing out of the blue made him feel a little embarrassed.

Utterly shameless! Shen Zhuxi stamped her foot in rage, refused to look at him any further, and quickened her pace toward the rear courtyard.

After Shen Zhuxi returned to the main room, Li Wu followed her in. He began to undress right in front of her to treat his wound. Shen Zhuxi understood it was for the sake of applying the medicine, but she was not capable of simply standing there and watching.

To avoid any impropriety, Shen Zhuxi decided to wait in the courtyard. Before she could move, Li Wu said, “If you go out now, you’ll only arouse suspicion. A husband is injured — shouldn’t his wife be the one to bandage and dress the wound?”

“But I don’t know how…”

“Who was it that said she wanted to learn, up on the mountain?” Li Wu gave her a sidelong look.

Very well… it was her.

“…What do I do?” she asked, tense with apprehension.

“You’ve already bandaged a wound before — there’s no difference.” Li Wu sat down on the edge of the bed and calmly bared his arm, revealing a raw, blood-soaked wound.

The sight of all that blood made Shen Zhuxi’s fingertips go numb. She drew a slow breath and steadied herself, then called for a servant to bring hot water and clean cloths.

She focused her full attention, carefully dabbing at the tiger-claw wounds on Li Wu’s arm with a moistened cloth.

Normally, the mere sight of something this gruesome would have sent her backing away three paces — but now, all she felt was heartache and lingering dread.

On his other, uninjured arm, the magnificent blue phoenix continued its soaring flight, gazing together with its master at the young woman before them.

The wound was not on her body, yet she seemed to suffer more than the one who bore it — her eyes brimming with sorrowful tears.

She had always despised these tears that laid her vulnerability bare. But what she did not know was that it was precisely her tears that told him something: without her realizing it, she had already made his grief her own.

What response could move the one who confides more than the true empathy of the one who listens?

His past required no one’s pity, no comfort from those who stood apart from it. A single tear — shed for pain that was his yet felt as hers — was enough to make those years no longer lonely, no longer wretched.

There was someone who, years later, had walked that road alongside him and wept for him with tears that were utterly sincere, that cut to the bone.

She seemed unaccustomed to admiration — when others praised her, her first response was not pride or satisfaction, but bewilderment and uncertainty. She was already so genuinely remarkable, yet she was wrapped in invisible shackles, each one restraining her will, denying her radiance.

She did not know how beautiful she was — like a begonia blooming beneath the moon’s light. Nor did she know that her resilient, tender spirit — pure as a newborn’s, capable of resonating with every kind of suffering — was a rare treasure a thousand, ten thousand times more brilliant than the vessel that contained it.

One glance was all it had taken to hold his gaze fast.

“…Thank you,” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi lifted her head and looked at him in surprise.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For throwing yourself into danger for my sake.”

“It wasn’t really…” Shen Zhuxi’s face reddened, and she dropped her gaze, speaking softly.

Li Wu looked at her steadily and said, “You know about the past of us three brothers now. When are you going to tell me about yours?”

“What past?” Shen Zhuxi startled, her hand stilling without her noticing.

“Your past.” Li Wu said. “…Shen Zhuxi, when will you be willing to tell me the truth?”

“But I did tell you — I’m a palace maid, I — “

Li Wu took her hand in his, the warm pad of his thumb brushing gently across her palm. Shen Zhuxi pulled back uneasily.

He raised his eyes, his perceptive gaze meeting hers directly as she looked away.

“Is there such a thing as a palace maid with hands like white jade who knows nothing of common household affairs?”

Shen Zhuxi said stubbornly: “Of course there is — I — “

Li Wu cut her off again:

“Then answer me this: what is the annual salary of the lowest-ranked sweeping maid in the palace? How many portions of monthly allowances may she draw? When you first entered the palace, what rules of conduct did your training matron teach you? What are the rules for night duty in the palace? What must one wear, what lantern must one carry, and how often does the shift change?”

He asked question after question in one breath, and every single one left Shen Zhuxi completely at a loss.

When he finished, Li Wu fell silent and simply watched her. His expression was calm — her speechlessness was exactly what he had anticipated.

“…”

Shen Zhuxi tried to open her mouth, but her mind was a complete blank.

It’s over, she thought.

“You can’t answer a single one, can you?” Li Wu said. “The questions I just asked — there are only two kinds of women in the palace who cannot answer them.”

“Consorts and princesses — “

Li Wu’s gaze was piercing as he looked at her:

“Shen Zhuxi, which one are you?”