Chapter 13

 

As the night faded, the sky began to brighten faintly.

The orange-red morning sun filtered through the paper window, casting a warm glow into the carriage. Xie Lanxu gradually woke up, stirred by the subtle shift in light.

He instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes from the direct sunlight.

His mind was still muddled, and his blurred vision made it difficult to distinguish his surroundings. For a moment, he thought he had returned to the Lakeside Pavilion in the Eastern Palace.

Xie Lanxu felt unusually heavy, initially attributing it to his illness. It wasn’t until his gaze fell upon the mountain of cloaks and clothes piled over him—almost everything from the clothing chest—that he realized the true source of the weight.

Behind the heap of garments was a figure resting lightly against the brocade curtain, eyes closed in repose.

Using several layers of thin clothes, including her own outer garment, she had reinforced the curtain to block the chill wind, leaving herself clad only in her thin innerwear. Curled up by the door, she bore the cold in silence.

Xie Lanxu moved slightly, attempting to push aside the heavy clothing. The girl at the door abruptly opened her eyes.

She had not been sleeping at all.

“Your Highness!” Li Zhi blurted out.

Her voice startled Xie Lanxu. Slowly, he began to speak as though relearning the art of conversation.

“How long… have I been unconscious?”

“Nearly three days,” Li Zhi replied. “The physician said there would be hope once the fever subsided. It finally broke last night, and you’ve woken up just as he predicted.”

His voice was raspy and hoarse. Li Zhi poured a cup of water from the kettle, then assisted Xie Lanxu as she had while administering medicine before.

This time, however, Xie Lanxu was fully conscious.

When she tried to help him sit up, he resisted, the effort palpable in his weak movements.

Understanding, she let him lean against the carriage wall on his own, merely holding the teacup to his lips. He turned his head away to avoid it.

“It’s just spring water. I’ve tested it myself,” Li Zhi added.

Xie Lanxu glanced at her, seemingly weighing her words, before finally relenting and allowing her to help him drink.

Parched, he downed the first cup eagerly and didn’t refuse the second. After three cups, he signaled for her to stop and said, “Please remove the clothes. I can’t move under them.”

Li Zhi hurriedly folded the mountain of clothes and returned them to the chest.

Even with only a single cloak left covering him, Xie Lanxu found himself unable to move.

His legs felt like they were still asleep. No amount of slapping or effort could make them respond. His face turned pale as he grew more frantic, exerting greater strength with little result.

Li Zhi grasped his hands firmly, pleading, “Your Highness, please don’t panic. Perhaps you haven’t fully recovered. I’ll fetch Zhen Qiao to find a physician immediately.”

Seeing him cease his futile efforts, Li Zhi darted out of the carriage.

“Put on your coat before going,” Xie Lanxu ordered in a low, controlled tone.

Unwilling to risk rumors by going out in her innerwear, Li Zhi hurriedly donned her coat, lifted the curtain, and leaped off the carriage.

“Senior Guard Zhen Qiao!” she called out.

Hearing her urgent summons, Zhen Qiao, not far away, hastened to her side, alarmed by the tone.

“What’s happened?”

Li Zhi quickly explained Xie Lanxu’s symptoms. Zhen Qiao’s expression darkened as he climbed into the carriage to inspect Xie Lanxu’s legs.

“Forgive my impertinence, Your Highness,” Zhen Qiao apologized before lifting Xie Lanxu onto a bench inside the carriage. He tapped gently beneath Xie Lanxu’s knees, as if waiting for a response, observing him carefully.

Xie Lanxu watched him, as did Li Zhi.

Zhen Qiao tapped both knees repeatedly with no discernible reaction. His expression grew grimmer.

“Zhen Qiao, what’s wrong with my legs?” Xie Lanxu finally asked.

“Your Highness, I’m unsure. Let’s wait for the physician’s diagnosis,” Zhen Qiao evaded, avoiding Xie Lanxu’s gaze.

After leaving the carriage, Zhen Qiao instructed Li Zhi to remain behind and take care of Xie Lanxu.

However, Zhen Qiao’s grim expression and his repeated tests on the knees already led Li Zhi to a chilling realization—

Xie Lanxu might be paralyzed from the waist down.

Sitting silently on the bench, staring out the window, Xie Lanxu likely shared the same dreadful suspicion.

Yet, until the physician confirmed it, no one dared voice the thought aloud.

—-

In the evening, Zhen Qiao returned to the carriage with a barefoot physician who could not speak official language. The physician took out a bag full of silver needles and used a finger-long silver needle to pierce the acupuncture points near Xie Lanxu’s knee.

The impact of this scene was so strong that even Li Zhi felt a faint pain in her knees.

The physician looked at Xie Lanxu and gestured, “Do you feel anything?”

Xie Lanxu leaned weakly against the carriage wall, his face pale as he shook his head.

The physician continued to insert needles into various acupuncture points on his legs, but there was no sensation.

At last, the needle pouch bristling with silver needles was closed in front of Li Zhi and Zhen Qiao. The physician shook his head, wearing an expression of helplessness.

“I can only think that this is a side-effect of the fever.”

“Can it be cured?” Xie Lanxu asked directly in front of Li Zhi and Zhen Qiao.

The physician hesitated, muttering vague words of comfort. It was clear that he had little hope for the recovery of Xie Lanxu’s legs.

After Zhen Qiao escorted the physician out of the carriage, Li Zhi remained inside.

She was pondering how to console Xie Lanxu when he suddenly said, “I need to use the restroom.”

“What?” Li Zhi froze.

Xie Lanxu turned his head, his gaze shifting from the void to meet her eyes. He spoke each word clearly, “…I need to use the restroom.”

Li Zhi finally regained her composure. With his legs paralyzed and having gone two days and nights without relief, even a deity would have reached their limit.

Had he not been desperate, Xie Lanxu would never have asked her for help with such a mortifying request.

Understanding the embarrassment and humiliation he must be feeling, Li Zhi quietly left the carriage to relay his need to Zhen Qiao, who then carried Xie Lanxu into the forest.

When Xie Lanxu returned, his aura was even colder. He neither spoke to nor dismissed Li Zhi, as if her presence was entirely inconsequential. His gaze remained fixed on the closed wooden lattice window.

Although Li Zhi had no personal experience with such matters, she could imagine the crushing pain of losing one’s dignity that Xie Lanxu must have felt upon leaving the carriage.

A true son of the heavens, now stripped of everything—even his own legs.

Li Zhi’s own circumstances were far from ideal, but she felt a genuine twinge of sympathy for the despondent Xie Lanxu.

“Your Highness need not despair… The village physician’s skills are crude. Once we reach Mingyue Tower, you’ll surely find better physicians to treat you,” she said, attempting to offer some comfort, though her words felt hollow even to herself.

What she feared most was Xie Lanxu detecting the pity hidden in her tone and expression.

“What if it cannot be cured?” Xie Lanxu asked, his voice hollow, like a wandering soul.

“If it cannot…” Li Zhi paused, then said resolutely, “Then I will be Your Highness’s legs.”

“You?” Xie Lanxu’s eyes finally focused on her face.

“I have heard of master craftsmen who create chairs with wheels. Even if Your Highness cannot walk, I will push you in such a chair to seek out renowned physicians far and wide. If the physicians at Mingyue Tower cannot heal you, I will bring others to you,” Li Zhi said earnestly. “Your Highness do not need to worry. I will not give up.”

“And what are you holding onto at this point?” Xie Lanxu frowned. “I am already a cripple, unsure if I’ll even survive to reach Mingyue Tower—”

“I will ensure it,” Li Zhi interrupted firmly.

Looking into Xie Lanxu’s eyes, she said, word by word, “As long as I live, Your Highness will live.”

She added, “And I will live to reach Mingyue Tower. So will you. Please, Your Highness, do not lose hope. No matter what happens, I will be here for you.”

Li Zhi’s heartfelt words left Xie Lanxu momentarily stunned, a rare trace of confusion flickering across his expression.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I admire you,” she replied.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“You’ve heard it, but you’ve never believed it,” Li Zhi said. “That is why you cannot let it go—because you cannot find any other explanation.”

Xie Lanxu could not deny her logic.

Her reasoning seemed absurd, yet he had no better alternative to explain her unwavering stance.

If she sought protection or a future pardon, those hopes now seemed unattainable with his paralysis. Still, her attitude remained unchanged.

“Even if I never walk again, will you still not change your mind?” Xie Lanxu asked.

“If I speak a single lie, may heaven strike me down,” Li Zhi vowed.

“…Very well,” Xie Lanxu said. “I’ll trust you this once.”

“Wait a moment, Your Highness.”

Li Zhi retrieved a bowl of cold, green porridge from beneath the bench.

“Your priority now should be regaining your strength. Only then will you have the energy to treat your legs,” Li Zhi said. “This is a wild vegetable soup I cooked while preparing medicine. It may lack meat, but it’s better than dry rations.”

Xie Lanxu glanced at her.

Thinking he doubted the food, Li Zhi was about to take a sip herself when Xie Lanxu accepted the bowl and began eating slowly with a wooden spoon.

Though the vegetable soup had cooled, it was still flavorful. Watching him eat, Li Zhi couldn’t help swallowing her saliva.

She thought she had hidden her reaction well, but Xie Lanxu handed her the half-empty bowl and said flatly, “You should eat too. If you’re to take care of me, you’ll need the strength more than I do.”

Unable to refuse, Li Zhi used the same spoon to finish the remaining soup, not leaving a single leaf behind.

“Now that everyone knows we’re closely connected, you should avoid eating your allocated rations from now on,” Xie Lanxu warned.

“You suspect poisoning?”

“It’s not suspicion,” Xie Lanxu said with certainty.

Given his keen mind and natural skepticism, Li Zhi wasn’t surprised he had uncovered the schemes early.

“The tainted rations, powdered diamond in the water, ambushes by mountain bandits…” Xie Lanxu listed. “And countless spies among the servants. I don’t know which faction is behind it, but I know many in the capital are hoping for my death.”

Li Zhi had anticipated his dire circumstances but was still struck silent by the extent of his plight.

“Do you regret it?” Xie Lanxu asked, his expression calm as his ocean-deep eyes scrutinized her. His true thoughts were impossible to discern.

She shook her head, setting down the bowl and spoon. Picking up the cloak that covered him, she grasped its edge tightly.

“If I waver now, that would be my lifelong regret,” Li Zhi said.