Rong Heng’s pupils shrank slightly, staring in horror at the person in front of him.
The smile on Gu Lan’s face had not yet faded when suddenly everything went black before her eyes, and she uncontrollably fell to the ground.
The smile instantly dissipated like the white mist rising from a teacup on a winter’s day, vanishing in an instant.
At that mont, Rong Heng felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen into ice.
In his muddled mind appeared the scene of Xiao Ning’s death, her face, once favored in the Six Palaces and unparalleled in beauty, now ashen and cold as a stone wall, hanging high in the center of the palace.
He thought of many people too, but in just an instant, Rong Heng had rushed forward to catch Gu Lan in his arms.
The overly warm body startled him back to his senses.
Rong Heng forced himself to control his suddenly rapid breathing, his blood-red eyes gradually regaining their shine.
Yes, it’s warm.
His fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
Rong Heng tightened his expression, the string in his heart almost broke, using his other hand to steady the trembling fingers.
How could it be... suddenly refusing to obey? He had spent a whole year trying to forget the blood of Xia He on his hands, why would it resurface now?
Rong Heng looked at Gu Lan, knowing she had a distaste for filth, yet for the sake of saving more lives, she spent a sleepless night covered in dirt, her white clothes turned gray.
Gu Lan’s burning warmth gradually ward Rong Heng’s icy hands.
His hands stopped trembling suddenly, and he imdiately checked Gu Lan’s pulse.
The pulse was as weak and floating as always, but her body was feverish, scorching hot.
Rong Heng reassured himself that Gu Lan was fine, she had just fainted from exhaustion, caught a cold and had a fever, and should wake up soon.
He reached into his pocket for a pill to give to Gu Lan, but she had already woken up.
Not completely alert, but by instinct, she opened her bloodshot eyes, with a rim of red around them.
She looked at Rong Heng, obediently opening her mouth to swallow the bitter pill, frowning, her face turning from pale to flushed with a severe fever.
"Brother Hang, go back to Xiefang Palace with ."
She held the hand Rong Heng had placed on her wrist, tugging lightly at his sleeve, her voice barely audible, carrying a gentle and coquettish tone.
Ever since Rong Heng had checked her pulse and diagnosed kidney deficiency, Gu Lan had been concerned and asked Zijin about it, prompting Zijin to send a ssage back to the Marquis Mansion for confirmation.
A few days ago, Madam Zhou sent word that Gu Lan’s late little aunt used to love practicing martial arts and wanted to join her grandfather, the old Marquis, on military campaigns. As a child, she was raised by the old Marquis as a boy in the military camp.
Thus, the Marquis Mansion had a secret redy. By taking it monthly, it would cause one’s pulse to appear weak and disordered, manifesting as a man’s frail constitution.
Madam Zhou also ntioned that the redy was sought by the old Marquis many years ago from a famous Ghost Doctor, trying to appease his daughter’s coquettish demands.
The consultation fee for the Ghost Doctor was hefty, and at the ti, Madam Zhou had not yet married Marquis Gu; the Marquis Mansion was very poor and the redy cost the mansion’s entire fortune of a century.
Later, as Gu Lan’s little aunt grew older, she stopped disguising herself as a man and openly stepped out as a lady. This incident was a secret of the Marquis Mansion, known only by a few. Even Old Madam Gu rely knew that her youngest daughter died in battle as a woman, unaware of her disguising as a man.
Thus, this redy had been used on Gu Lan since childhood.
Madam Zhou reassured her, ntioning that no one could discern Gu Lan’s true identity by checking her pulse unless she matured or beca pregnant.
Gu Lan felt sowhat tired, thinking Madam Zhou had little faith in her.
Couldn’t she grow? Couldn’t she mature?
Nevertheless, Gu Lan was wary of the male protagonist’s golden touch.
Rong Heng could even treat Yan Qing’s stubborn illness; what if he was an apprentice of the Celestial Physician Ghost Doctor with miraculous skills?
When Rong Heng saw Gu Lan swatting his hand away, he didn’t say anything, his voice much softer than usual, carrying a barely perceptible hint of grievance:
"At this ti, you still want to return to Xiefang Palace?"
Gu Lan felt sore all over; since it was just a fever, she feared trouble if Rong Heng continued treating her, so she said, "Then I’ll go ho... I miss my mother."
Rong Heng couldn’t possibly prevent a sick person from seeking her mother.
He lowered his eyes and bent down to carry Gu Lan on his back.
"Alright."
Gu Lan hesitated for a mont, then obediently clung on, "Take back to Xiefang Palace. It’s a day off today and the people from the Marquis Mansion will pick up."
"Alright."
Brother Hang was suddenly so agreeable that Gu Lan found it unfamiliar.
Gu Lan’s mind relaxed, and she lay comfortably on Rong Heng’s back.
Yesterday, she waded through filthy water all day, saving countless people, staying up all night, performing the ticulous work of bandaging and applying dicine.
Now, a fierce headache throbbed in her head.
Once Rong Heng confird she was steady, he spoke in a muffled voice, "The Imperial Physicians in the palace are busy saving people too, but Dingyuan Marquis Mansion surely has its own doctors. Once you return, have soone dry you off, take your dicine promptly, avoid exposure to the wind if you have any injuries, als should be light for the next three days but not skipped... and about your frail condition... avoid overindulgence."
Gu Lan buried her burning face in his clothes, thinking to herself, this was the first ti Brother Hang had spoken so much to her.
Yesterday, he had also saved people, his clothes soaked too, his entire self drenched, yet now he was clean and dry, very strange.
Rong Heng seed to sense Gu Lan’s puzzlent and said softly, "Inner strength dried it."
Gu Lan: Is he mocking for not having inner strength?
Upon returning, she resolved to look for Dingyuan Marquis Mansion’s martial arts manual and start ditating.
Gu Lan hooked her arms over Rong Heng’s shoulders. His shoulders were broad, not as thin as imagined, nor as slender as they appeared.
No wonder Brother Hang, who seed slender, could eat two bowls of rice. He was still growing like a young man, after all.
She took a deep breath, the scent of the young man—fresh and dry—filling her senses. There was always a faint dicinal aroma about him, which Gu Lan liked very much.
Gu Lan lifted her head, gazing at Rong Heng’s profile.
The youth’s profile was smooth yet austere, with tightly pressed thin lips, sharp brow bones, a slight frown, stern expression, and eyes black as ink.
Yet even with such a stern and aloof deanor, even in simple, plain robes, his brow radiated a hint of proud elegance, like a noble deity, aloof and unapproachable.
Like a beautiful jade fallen into the mud, still radiating its dazzling brilliance in monts of inattention.
"Brother Hang, we still have soone following us."
Gu Lan’s heart skipped a beat, quickly averting her gaze, glimpsing Little Fu’s silhouette flicker past in the corner of her eye.
Rong Heng seed long accustod to it, saying indifferently, "Let them follow."
Gu Lan rembered the rumors she had heard recently, lowering her gaze.
The forr Emperor’s young son Rong Heng, studying literature at three, composing poetry at five, by seven witnessing court affairs—brilliant, unmatched genius—
He was once the most dignified youth in Yanjing City,
But now, reduced to the humble Fifth Young Master Rong.
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