Once Elder Yu withdrew the needles and left, Gu Yanxi waited with his heart in his throat for any reaction from Hua Zhi — even if she could only lift her eyelids, or move a single finger. He was afraid, afraid to the point that his hands were shaking.

But there was nothing. Not one reaction at all. She went on burning, went on exhaling scalding breath, unchanged.

Gu Yanxi’s heart plummeted to its lowest point.

“Add more water.”

The frantic Bao Xia quickly complied, letting the water rise again until it covered the young miss’s chest. Ying Chun continued wringing out cloths to wipe down the young miss’s neck, underarms, and arms. They forced their minds to stop thinking ahead — they looked only at what was before them, remembered only what needed to be done next.

And yet the young miss’s hands had already started to wrinkle. By their count of the hours, it had been well past half an hour of soaking already…

Gu Yanxi suddenly rose to his feet, holding her. “Have the kitchen keep the water boiling — change the water once through.”

“I’ll go, I’ll go.” Zhu Shi, who had been hovering nearby not knowing what to do other than pass cloths to Ying Chun, promptly rose and hurried out with small, rapid steps. The two maids then worked together to ladle the water from the tub. From the corner of their eyes they saw — over on the long couch — the Regent had settled the young miss to lie against him on top of him, her body covered snugly in blankets. The two of them, bare as they were, looked not the least bit indecent — only heartbreaking.

These two people. How hard it had been for them.

From daytime to nighttime, soaking for half an hour at a stretch, then emerging to rest for a quarter of an hour before returning to soak again — over and over. By the early hours of the morning, the temperature had at last come down just a little.

Gu Yanxi had spoon-fed some ginseng broth into her, and then held her as he slept — only to be woken less than two hours later by the scorching heat of the body in his arms. More frantic activity followed before they went back to the medicinal bath. Like this they were tossed about for two full days. Some places on Hua Zhi’s skin had gone wrinkled from soaking; she visibly shed more and more weight. Even Gu Yanxi, who was made of stern stuff, had hollowed out noticeably.

This time when the fever broke, it stayed down for a longer stretch. After Divine Physician Yu took her pulse, he revised the prescription. “If her temperature does not rise to what it was before, there is no need to continue the medicinal bath. Simmer some rice broth and try to get as much of it into her as possible.”

After that, the fever indeed did not return to its former terrible height — but it still came and went, burning on for three more days before it truly broke for good. In those brief few days she had grown skeletal — lying in her quilt she made only a tiny, sunken shape. Whenever he needed to do anything, Gu Yanxi was careful and then more careful still with the pressure he used, terrified that if he was not gentle enough he might somehow shatter her.

It had now been seven days. Hua Zhi had not opened her eyes in seven days. Gu Yanxi, his face rough with stubble, knelt at the bedside and quietly wiped her hands — one finger at a time, wiping with absolute care, utterly practiced in each motion now.

Elder Yu’s expression grew more grave with each day that passed. More and more visitors came to inquire after her — all of this Gu Yanxi ignored. He had assumed the role of master of this courtyard as a matter of course, and allowed no idle visitors in. Hua Zhi liked quiet; she would not enjoy being disturbed by strangers while she slept.

“I’m going to the palace for a while — attend her carefully.”

The several maids, who had also grown considerably thinner over these days, all answered at once. The Regent’s true heart toward the young miss, the depth of his devotion — these past days had shown them with perfect clarity. No — it had shown the entire capital with perfect clarity. In the depths of their hearts, they had already come to think of the Regent as the young master of the household. When the young miss was indisposed, it was only natural that they follow the young master’s word.

Gu Yanxi rode into the palace at full gallop, and for the first time exercised his privilege to its fullest extent.

He did not go to see the emperor. He went straight to the Grand Empress Dowager, swept his robe aside, and sank to his knees with a crack. “Your grandson asks his grandmother to preside over his marriage.”

The Grand Empress Dowager pressed a hand to her chest and leaned forward. “The Grand Preceptor — how is she?”

“She is still unconscious.” Gu Yanxi’s voice was hoarse. “Before I left for the battlefield, Hua Zhi once said that even if I came back missing a limb, she would still marry me — even if I came back ruined, she would still marry me — even if I came back with nothing but a scrap of bone and a bit of flesh left on me, she would still marry me. Now I wish to answer her with that same feeling. Whether she lives three days, I will marry her. Whether she lives one day, I will marry her. Even if — even if she simply goes on sleeping and never wakes, I will still marry her. In this lifetime, I will only ever marry her, and there will be no one else.”

The Grand Empress Dowager did not wish to grant it. Whether as the Grand Empress Dowager of the great Qing nation or as Yanxi’s grandmother, she did not wish to grant it — once she did, her grandson, her great nation’s Regent, might spend this long, long life walking it alone. Yet she could not bring herself to refuse.

This was Yanxi’s truest feeling, his most sincere plea. And because of that young woman, she could not say a single word against it. Except to her enemies and to herself, that young woman had been good to everyone — had given everything she had to give to each person — even to this old woman herself, who had never been kind to her.

“What would you have your grandmother do?”

Gu Yanxi’s lips trembled. He prostrated himself and remained there against the ground for a long while, not moving. He had no more ideas left — there was nothing in his mind now but marrying Hua Zhi. Affairs of the realm, the new reign and old politics — he could attend to none of it. He only wanted to marry Hua Zhi. To marry Hua Zhi while she still lived, and then to wait for her to wake, or to depart this world together with her.

To share a coat in life, to share a burial in death — as husband and wife.

The Grand Empress Dowager drew a long breath, rose to her feet, and helped him up with her own hands. “Whatever you want, your grandmother will give you. Whatever you wish to do, your grandmother will consent to. But you must promise your grandmother — do not do anything foolish.”

Gu Yanxi looked down at his grandmother, her temples shot through with white, and felt his nose sting with sudden grief. She had seen off her husband, she had seen off her son — every great sorrow the world could offer, she had already tasted. Yet now he too…

“It is your grandson’s failure to be filial — I have made you grieve.”

“You are the most filial of all — no one is as filial as you.” The Grand Empress Dowager’s eyes brimmed with tears. She lifted her hand and touched the scar on his face. How could he not be filial? Was it not precisely his filial nature that the late emperor had schemed to exploit? Was it not what she herself had exploited as well?

“Your Hua Zhi will certainly wake. She cannot bear to leave you — she cannot bear to leave the Hua family she fought so hard to protect — she cannot bear to leave the young emperor. She will cross over this obstacle.”

Gu Yanxi’s red-rimmed eyes curved into a smile. “Yes. She will certainly wake.”

The Grand Empress Dowager patted his arm, her voice trembling. “Go — go and make your preparations. Your grandmother will preside over the marriage.”

Gu Yanxi kowtowed once more and took his leave — but once outside, he did not leave the palace immediately. He turned and went to the Ancestral Temple instead, where he knelt before the row upon row of Gu family ancestors and made his solemn plea in a low, steady voice: “If our forebears’ spirits endure, then I beg you to shelter Hua Zhi and help her through this trial. She has rendered meritorious service to the dynasty, to the realm — she is a great benefactress of the Gu family. I ask the Gu family to shelter her with the dragon’s aura. Your descendant Gu Yanxi prostrates himself before you.”

He left the palace, gave his orders for the preparations to be set in motion, and then rode without stopping to Da Zhuo Temple. Before its solemn, august Buddha, he made his vow: “I, Gu Yanxi, swear before the Buddha — I am willing to forfeit ten years of my life in exchange for Hua Zhi’s passage through this trial.”

After that he went to a renowned Taoist temple in the capital and made that same vow once more. He was like a man who had never burned incense in his life and found himself, in his moment of desperation, rushing from temple to temple — and since he was visiting Taoist shrines as well, he did so too. He even went to cast coins, to release captive animals — not a single thread of hope was left unpursued.

At this moment, Gu Yanxi was no longer the imposing, commanding leader of the Seven Lodges. He was no longer the Shizi personally ennobled by the emperor. He was no longer the exalted, powerful Regent. He was only an ordinary man, terrified of losing the one he loved — doing ordinary things.