Fengyu was intelligent and quickly understood the subtext in Zhang Boju’s words.
Neither she nor Xie Xun had ever considered themselves deserving of credit, nor did they expect the people of Yangzhou to be grateful to them. Since the court officials had arrived, along with an Imperial Physician, it was ti for them to leave.
Zhang Boju’s words carried no intention of arresting Xie Xun.
With the court’s involvent, Xie Xun’s position would beco awkward. Although Yangzhou City was pacified and governed under him, now that Zhang Boju had arrived, the city could not have two leaders. Besides, Zhang Boju represented Yanyang—he was the rightful master.
Fengyu, insightful and adept at reading between the lines, decided against causing any trouble. "Mr. Zhang, rest assured. With you and Doctor Zhang here, Yangzhou will surely erge unscathed from this calamity. Now that I, too, have fallen ill and am gravely weak, once my condition improves slightly, we shall leave Yangzhou. Henceforth, Yangzhou is entrusted back to you, Mr. Zhang. We are but passing guests in this city and will soon depart. We will not interfere in Yangzhou’s governance."
After Fengyu departed, Zhang Boju raised an eyebrow. This young marquis, infamous for his rebellious spine and fiery temper, had reportedly enraged the Beiman negotiators to the point of near apoplexy during peace talks. He was not known for being easygoing.
"He handles advances and retreats with such grace—poised and perceptive. Remarkable... The little marquis has sohow llowed over the past half year." Or perhaps, one shouldn’t believe every rumor.
Two days later, Fengyu’s condition gradually stabilized. The dicine Zhang Lingzheng had brought was far superior to that available in Yangzhou City—more targeted and effective. On the first day of treatnt, her fever had already abated. Though her complexion showed faint signs of recovery, Zhang Lingzheng, well-acquainted with Fengyu’s condition from having treated her multiple tis, continued to dedicate himself solely to her care. Only after Fengyu’s condition was stabilized did he begin addressing the epidemic in Yangzhou.
Nuanyang placed the Soul Suppressing Pearl back on Fengyu’s wrist, returning them to their original bodies. Fengyu’s health might have improved, but she had not yet awakened. When Xie Xun reclaid his body and saw the frail Fengyu, he froze completely. Believing that Nuanyang had disobeyed military orders and couldn’t bear to let Fengyu face death in his stead, he felt both furious and heartbroken.
"Ayu..." Xie Xun knelt by the small bed, grasping her hand. Her palm was icy cold, and Xie Xun mistakenly thought Fengyu had already passed away, her body now lifeless.
His mind flashed to the mont when Xie Zhang was pierced by a thousand arrows, his older brother’s body growing colder and colder in his embrace. Tornt raged within as if a wild beast were devouring his heart.
The agony felt like a dagger, carving him apart in the midst of this epidemic.
Fengyu had once said she wouldn’t live past eighteen years.
But clearly, she was only sixteen. If only he had chosen not to save the people of Yangzhou—had taken her away to return to Jiaozhou, to the West Continent—her soul would not have t its end in Yangzhou.
Xie Xun’s entire body trembled as tears stread down his face, his arms cradling Fengyu.
n rarely shed tears—until their hearts shatter.
During the ti when his family was destroyed, and his loved ones lost, he thought he had shed all the tears he could. But now, that dam broke anew. His hopeless tears soaked the back of Fengyu’s hand as emptiness consud him.
His heart felt hollow, like a wandering ghost lost in the mortal world.
Ayu...
"What’s going on here?" Zhang Lingzheng raised an eyebrow. "Is the prince mourning soone? Who died?"
Zhang Lingzheng, a few years older than Xie Xun, had grown up as a close companion of Fang Chuning and was a long-standing figure in the Marquis Zhenbei Mansion. After years of effort tending to Xie Xun’s leg ailnt, the two had dispensed with formalities in their interactions.
"Zhang Lingzheng?" Xie Xun gazed at him in astonishnt.
Behind Zhang Lingzheng stood a group of people—Nuanyang, Feiying, Chunlu, and Fang Lingjun. Aside from Fang Lingjun and Zhang Lingzheng, everyone else kept their heads lowered like quails, too intimidated to speak or et Xie Xun’s gaze.
Suddenly, Xie Xun turned to look at Fengyu. Although weak, her faint breath was still discernible—she was alive. With Zhang Lingzheng here, Nuanyang wouldn’t have dared to defy orders, which ant Fengyu’s condition had improved and required his presence to stabilize the situation. Only then were their bodies swapped back. Overco by his own worry, he’d made a fool of himself.
"Oh? Are you really mourning? Don’t cry just yet—she’s not dead!" Zhang Lingzheng couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
For the first ti in his life, Xie Xun, who had always been bold and untad, confident in everything he did, now wanted to find a hole in the ground to crawl into. It wasn’t just embarrassnt—it was being utterly humiliated while under everyone’s watch. His ears and face turned bright red, whether from anger or relief, as the atmosphere in the tent grew palpably awkward.
Even Fang Lingjun couldn’t bring herself to look at Xie Xun’s tear-streaked, swollen face.
He had cried so miserably!
Would Xie Xun, now so humiliated, silence everyone to keep his secret?
"As long as she’s alright," Xie Xun forced himself to maintain his composure.
After checking Fengyu’s pulse, Zhang Lingzheng spoke. "Her pulse is gradually stabilizing. If she pulls through tonight without incident, she should be out of danger."
"And if she doesn’t?"
"Then it will be grim," Zhang Lingzheng didn’t hold back. "Her body is weaker than others, making her more vulnerable. Enduring the first wave of the illness was already a feat."
Xie Xun’s gaze softened as it lingered on Fengyu’s face, his earlier grief giving way to a tender expression.
It doesn’t matter!
He would be Fengyu’s guardian at the gates of the Ghost Gate.
King Yama could not claim her soul.
Over the two days while Xie Xun was unconscious, conditions in the epidemic zone gradually stabilized. Zhang Lingzheng remarked, "This plague bears striking similarities to the one from sixteen years ago. The Imperial Hospital has archival records of the symptoms and prescriptions. Fortunately, you isolated the infected from the healthy in Yangzhou early on. This disease is ferocious, highly contagious, and has a high fatality rate. Without those asures, the entire city of Yangzhou would have fallen. You saved them."
"I rely did my duty."
"Duty..." Zhang Lingzheng paused, reflecting on how many failed even at fulfilling their basic duties. "Good deeds should not go uncredited. It was your accomplishnt—why downplay it?"
"I saved lives not for recognition or rit."
"But rit and public support are things you’ll need!" Zhang Lingzheng hinted knowingly. "Zhang Boju ca to Yangzhou with few n. I can’t guarantee he won’t request reinforcents from the Grand Marshal. You... should leave soon!"
The garrison at Jiangnan was only a day’s ride from Yangzhou by fast horse.
"Once Ayu wakes, we’ll leave!"
The afternoon brought a sudden drop in temperature as snow blanketed Yangzhou.
The quarantine zone remained under tight guard, but news of the Imperial Physicians’ arrival in Jiangnan brought reassurance to the people. Increasing numbers began to recover from their fevers, and fear and anxiety gradually receded. Residents of the quarantine zone stepped out of their hos to marvel at the year’s first snowfall.
This year’s first snow arrived quickly and fiercely. The heavens unleashed a flurry of snow, cloaking the city in pristine white. The suffering Yangzhou experienced under the grip of plague, famine, and chaos was cleansed by this snowfall, burying the rebellion, bloodshed, and corpses beneath its frosty veil.
A bountiful snow foretells a prosperous year. This relentless snowfall also carried the promise of spring’s revival.
Overnight, a thousand trees seed to bloom with pear blossoms, their silver-coated branches glittering in the morning light—a breathtaking, crystalline world.
Under this first snow, Fengyu awakened.
Xie Xun, utterly exhausted, slumped by her side. The tent was ward by the glow of charcoal, though cold drafts continued to slip in. The flickering light of the oil lamp cast fleeting shadows. Distantly, the sound of mirth could be heard.
It was snowing!
The night stretched long, yet hope had quietly arrived.
"Zhixu..." Fengyu gently stroked his hair. Xie Xun, resting by the edge of her small bed, revealed only a faint profile. He must have been utterly worn out; Fengyu could even see the light stubble shadowing his chin.
Reviews
All reviews (0)