Chapter 22

 

During Lu Xuan’s midday rest, Li Zhi seized the opportunity to request leave from the Steward Li of Xuan Zhi Courtyard. With the permission granted, she prepared to take the severely ill Xiangsheng to seek medical treatment outside the Duhu Mansion.

Xiangsheng was too weak to walk on his own, drifting in and out of consciousness. Thankfully, one of his kind-hearted roommates offered to help, supporting him all the way to the mansion’s main gate and watching as the three siblings boarded an ox cart.

The ride was rough, the cart jostling constantly over uneven roads, with no cover to shield them from the curious stares of passersby. Li Cien shrank in on herself, overwhelmed by the attention and discomfort.

But Li Zhi sat upright, her head held high, radiating composure and confidence as though she didn’t notice or care about the looks directed their way.

Her calm demeanor seemed to embolden Li Cien, who straightened her back, pushed her shoulders back, and imitated her elder sister’s posture.

When they arrived at the clinic, Li Zhi paid the cart driver and asked him to help carry Xiangsheng inside.

The physician on duty was an elderly man with a head full of white hair. As luck would have it, there were no other patients at the time. The old man shuffled over to examine Xiangsheng, peeling back his eyelids and checking his pulse with practiced fingers.

After a long moment, the physician released Xiangsheng’s wrist and asked, “How long has he been like this?”

“This is the third day,” Li Zhi replied.

“Is it serious, sir?” Li Cien asked anxiously, her voice trembling.

“If you had come a day later, I’m afraid he wouldn’t have made it,” the physician said gravely.

Li Cien’s small hands clutched at Li Zhi’s sleeve in terror. Li Zhi gently patted her hand in reassurance.

The old physician stroked his snowy beard and sat back at his desk. Picking up a brush, he asked Li Zhi, “Treating smoke sickness isn’t cheap. Do you have enough silver?”

“Will ten taels be enough?” Li Zhi asked cautiously.

“Just barely.”

The physician nodded, his brush gliding smoothly across the paper as he wrote out the prescription. He handed the prescription to a young apprentice, who quickly retrieved the medicine.

In no time, six packets of medicine, wrapped in oiled paper and bound with twine, were placed into Li Zhi’s hands.

“This will cost ten taels and three hundred wen,” the physician explained. “But since you only have ten taels, I substituted two of the ingredients. The change won’t affect the efficacy much. Once he takes these six doses, whether he pulls through will depend on his own willpower.”

“He’s gone three days without food,” the physician added. “If you can scrape together more money, go to the general store in the east of town and buy something called ‘children’s sugar’. Mix it with water and have him drink it—it’ll help him regain his strength quickly.”

“Thank you, physician,” Li Zhi said, bowing deeply.

After helping Li Cien and Xiangsheng back onto the waiting ox cart, Li Zhi said, “You two go back first. I’ll head to the general store the physician mentioned and see if I can get the sugar.”

“Miss, do you need the cart to wait for you?” the driver asked.

“No need,” Li Zhi replied with a shake of her head. “Please take my brother and sister back safely.”

Her funds were depleted, and she couldn’t afford any unnecessary expenses.

Li Zhi watched the cart disappear into the distance before turning to a nearby woman and asking for directions to the eastern general store. Step by step, she made her way there, asking for help along the way.

When she finally arrived, the shopkeeper, a middle-aged man in simple clothes, was outside sprinkling water on his fruits to keep them fresh.

“Excuse me, shopkeeper,” Li Zhi said politely. “Do you have children’s sugar here?”

“Yes, we do,” the man replied, straightening up. “How much do you need?”

“May I see it first?”

The shopkeeper nodded and walked inside, returning shortly with a ceramic jar. When he opened it, Li Zhi saw small, crystalline pieces of sugar glinting like tiny, clear jewels.

It was unlike anything she had seen before—so pure and transparent, far more refined than the malt sugar she remembered from the capital.

“How much is it per piece?” Li Zhi asked.

The man held up one finger.

“One hundred wen?” she guessed tentatively.

“One hundred wen?” The man scoffed. “It’s one tael of silver per piece of sugar!”

“So expensive?” Li Zhi blurted out.

“Rare things come at a high price,” the shopkeeper replied, his tone growing impatient. “That’s the going rate for children’s sugar. If you don’t believe me, you can check with other stores.”

“Would you be willing to let me buy it on credit?” Li Zhi asked, though she held no real hope.

As expected, the shopkeeper immediately refused.

“Let me think about it,” Li Zhi said, stepping out of the shop. The shopkeeper didn’t bother to try to persuade her to stay.

Li Zhi’s mind raced as she considered who in Mingyue Tower she could turn to for help. The name Jia Sui came to mind—the girl who ran the tea stall near the city gates.

One tael of silver. Jia Sui should be able to manage that.

Li Zhi hurried to the city gates, but upon asking around, she discovered that Jia Sui hadn’t opened her stall in two days.

Whether it was due to a temporary matter or something more serious, no one could say.

Li Zhi’s shoulders sagged, but after a moment’s pause, she made up her mind.

She returned to the general store.

The middle-aged shopkeeper was still outside, diligently sprinkling water on his fruits to keep them fresh.

“Shopkeeper, can I use this as collateral for the children’s sugar?” Li Zhi asked, holding up her shell bracelet.

The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the bracelet.

The bracelet was simple—made of small, ordinary seashells strung together. Such shells were common and practically worthless by the seaside. But Mingyue Tower was a landlocked region, far from the coast, and anything related to the ocean was considered rare and exotic here.

After a moment’s consideration, the shopkeeper nodded. “Alright. I’ll accept this as collateral,” he said. “But you have seven days to redeem it. If you come back with the money, you’ll need to pay double to get it back.”

“Thank you,” Li Zhi said sincerely.

The shopkeeper measured out two pieces of the sugar into a small cloth bag and handed it to her.

Li Zhi returned to the Duhu Mansion as quickly as her feet could carry her, carefully clutching the precious bag of sugar.

Once back at Xiangsheng’s room, she immediately set about brewing the first dose of the prescribed medicine. Cien helped her, running back and forth to fetch what was needed. When the medicine was ready, Cien cleverly convinced one of the kitchen maids to lend her freshly boiled water, which they used to dissolve the sugar into a sweet solution.

As soon as Xiangsheng drank the medicine, Li Zhi had to rush back to Xuan Zhi Courtyard to resume her duties.

On her way there, as she passed the garden corridor, she caught sight of commander Lu Han escorting a middle-aged man carrying a medicine chest into the bamboo grove path leading to the Bamboo Courtyard.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing briefly in their direction, before continuing on her way.

Inside the Bamboo Courtyard, the middle-aged physician, Physician Qiu, was seated beside Xie Lanxu’s long couch.

Lu Han stood nearby, his expression filled with concern.

“Physician Qiu, how is His Highness’ condition?” Lu Han asked.

Xie Lanxu lay on the couch near the window, his face pale as he stretched out one hand for the physician to examine.

Physician Qiu gently placed the prince’s hand back under the silk quilt, then turned to Lu Han and gave him a respectful bow.

“My lord, may I speak with you in private?”

“There’s no need to avoid me,” Xie Lanxu said weakly, his voice laced with a trace of dark humor. “I know my own body well enough. Surely I’ve already reached the point of no return…” He coughed lightly into his fist, adding to the air of frailty.

Physician Qiu glanced at Lu Han, who nodded, signaling that it was fine to speak openly.

“Your Highness overestimates the severity of your condition,” Physician Qiu said with a smile. “Your illness is not without a cure.”

“What do you mean?” Lu Han asked, his brows furrowing.

“Your Highness is not suffering from a natural illness,” Physician Qiu explained. “You’ve been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” Lu Han’s expression darkened.

“Yes. The poison comes from a substance made by grinding the medicinal herb gansui into powder. When administered in extremely small doses over a long period of time, it causes the symptoms His Highness has been experiencing,” Physician Qiu said. “Because the dosage is so small, the symptoms are subtle and can easily be mistaken for other illnesses. However, I specialize in toxicology and can confirm without a doubt—this is gansui poisoning.”

“What about His Highness’ leg condition?” Lu Han pressed.

“It’s also a result of the gansui poisoning,” Physician Qiu replied. “Once the poison is neutralized, His Highness should regain full use of his legs.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Lu Han exclaimed, his relief and joy evident. “Whatever medicine you need, just tell me. Even if it’s a snow lotus from the Tian Mountains, the Duhu Mansion will do everything in its power to procure it!”

Physician Qiu hesitated, then added, “There’s one thing I find puzzling… Logically speaking, even with such small doses, the poison should have accumulated to the point of severe organ damage by now. But His Highness’ condition, while serious, is not as advanced as I would expect. It seems as though something has been counteracting the effects of the poison.”

“I have no idea what that could be,” Xie Lanxu said with a faint smile, shaking his head.

Physician Qiu, unable to make sense of it either, simply clasped his hands and offered a polite blessing. “Perhaps it’s the will of the heavens. His Highness must be favored by divine protection.”

After seeing Physician Qiu off, Lu Han remained in the room with Xie Lanxu. When they were alone, the Commander knelt before the prince and bowed deeply.

“What is the meaning of this, Commander? Please rise,” Xie Lanxu said, attempting to sit up and help Lu Han, but his legs failed him, and he fell back onto the couch.

“Knowing that Your Highness can be cured lifts a great weight off my shoulders,” Lu Han said with emotion. “Your father dedicated himself to the welfare of the people, sacrificing everything for the sake of the realm. If I, as a mere servant, fail to protect his sole surviving heir, how could I face him in the afterlife?”

Xie Lanxu coughed lightly, then said, ” Commander, you mustn’t blame yourself. Your integrity and dedication have earned you the love and respect of the people of Mingyue Tower. My father would only feel fortunate to have left behind someone as righteous as you to uphold justice after his passing.”

Lu Han’s face twisted in anguish. “When your father was falsely accused, I was powerless to help him. I hated my insignificance, my inability to do anything to save him. But now that Your Highness is here in Mingyue Tower, I swear I will not let history repeat itself.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Commander,” Xie Lanxu said, his tone gentle. “What happened back then… no one could have stopped it.” He coughed again and added, “Please, rise.”

After a long moment of hesitation, Lu Han finally stood.

“Once the poison is cleared from your system, if Your Highness wishes, you may join my son in attending lessons at the family school. It’ll be a good way to pass the time,” Lu Han offered earnestly. “And if there’s anything Your Highness needs, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure your life here in Mingyue Tower is comfortable and free of worry.”

“Your thoughtfulness is much appreciated, Commander. I can’t think of anything I’m lacking,” Xie Lanxu said with a faint smile.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Lu Han noticed that the young prince looked tired and decided to take his leave. The maid named Xigua escorted him out of the courtyard.

Lu Han couldn’t help but glance at the petite maid with her delicate features and twin buns. Despite her graceful demeanor, she’d been given the name Xigua (Watermelon).

The Palace truly had its own unique customs, utterly unlike the norms of common households, he thought to himself, shaking his head.

—

When Taozi returned to the room, she found Xie Lanxu lounging by the window, looking anything but weak. His pale face no longer bore even a trace of exhaustion.

“What time is it?” he asked.

Taozi reported the hour, then asked tactfully, “Would Your Highness like to read?”

“I’m tired of reading.”

“Would Your Highness like to play chess?”

There wasn’t much else to do in the Bamboo Courtyard. After a moment’s thought, Xie Lanxu nodded.

Taozi quickly brought out the chessboard and set it up. “Would Your Highness like an opponent?” she asked tentatively.

“No need,” Xie Lanxu replied.

Taozi’s eyes dimmed slightly, but she wisely chose not to press the matter and withdrew.

Xie Lanxu spent the afternoon playing both sides of the chess game himself, his concentration only breaking when the sun dipped below the horizon.

Taozi entered the room to announce, “Your Highness, Li Zhi from Xuan Zhi Courtyard requests an audience.”

The black chess piece he had been holding paused mid-air before falling back into the bowl.

“Let her in,” he said, a flicker of interest lighting up his eyes.

Moments later, Li Zhi entered the study and greeted him with a respectful bow.

Xie Lanxu smiled faintly, a rare glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Did the physician see him?”

Li Zhi straightened, her composure intact, and replied:

“Thanks to Your Highness, the medicine has already been prescribed,” Li Zhi replied calmly.

As soon as the word “medicine” left her lips, a young maid with twin buns on her head entered the room, carefully carrying a steaming bowl of medicinal decoction.

“Your Highness, the medicine is ready,” the maid said softly.

“Leave it there,” Xie Lanxu instructed.

The maid placed the bowl on the table and exited the room without a sound.

Li Zhi couldn’t help but notice the peculiar atmosphere of the Bamboo Courtyard—it was utterly silent. Every servant moved as if walking on air, their voices so hushed that even a whisper seemed too loud.

Just as she was marveling at this unusual stillness, Xie Lanxu spoke. “Today, Lu Han brought in a physician who claimed that I’ve been poisoned by gansui. This,” he gestured to the bowl of medicine, “is supposedly the antidote. But I have no way of knowing if it’s truly an antidote… or just another poison.”

His dark, inscrutable eyes fixed on her, and Li Zhi felt the weight of his gaze pressing down on her.

Li Zhi hesitated, trying to discern his intentions. Finally, she ventured, “Does Your Highness wish for me to test the medicine?”

Xie Lanxu’s lips curved into a faint smile.

At that moment, Li Zhi couldn’t tell if this was yet another test or if it was a new form of amusement for him—a cruel game he was playing at her expense.

But she knew one thing for certain: she had no right to refuse.

Silently, she picked up the bowl of medicine. Under Xie Lanxu’s watchful gaze, she took a large gulp without hesitation.

She was just about to set the bowl down when his calm voice interrupted her.

“Finish it.”

Li Zhi didn’t hesitate. Tilting her head back, she drank the rest in one go, draining the bowl to the last drop.

Although she couldn’t see Xie Lanxu’s expression, she could feel a subtle shift in the way he was looking at her.

After emptying the bowl, Li Zhi placed it back on the table. She wiped the bitter residue from her lips and offered him a faint, teasing smile.

“Are you satisfied, Ah-Li?” she asked, deliberately using his childhood nickname.

Xie Lanxu didn’t admonish her for the impropriety of addressing him so casually.

Instead, he furrowed his brows slightly, as if puzzled by something.

He reached out his pale hand.

Li Zhi didn’t flinch.

She allowed his hand to rest on her chest.

His fingers pressed lightly over her heart, his expression strangely innocent, devoid of malice or indecency. There was no trace of violation in his demeanor, only curiosity.

Beneath his palm, her heartbeat thudded wildly, vigorous and erratic, like a startled deer frantically trying to escape.

“What is Your Highness trying to do?” Li Zhi asked evenly.

Xie Lanxu raised his gaze to meet hers, their eyes locking.

“…I heard that when one faces someone they love, their heartbeat quickens,” he said, his voice as calm as ever.

Li Zhi forced herself to keep staring at him without blinking, as if she were facing down a predator.

She knew that looking away from a beast was equal to signing her own death warrant.

“Has Your Highness confirmed it?” she asked.

She was acutely aware of her own racing heart.

It beat even faster than it had the first time she killed someone.

“…I don’t understand,” Xie Lanxu admitted, his voice soft and tinged with a rare vulnerability.

“One day, Your Highness will understand,” Li Zhi replied.

Her tone was measured, but her words carried an undertone of something deeper.

“…What I would risk my life for, Your Highness, is what you will one day come to understand.”