【Medical Room · Night】
Candlelight flickered as the scent of medicine mixed with the cold air of the snowy night, filling the medical room.
Chu Wanran had just fed the last spoonful of medicinal soup into Li Xuan’s mouth. He took a warm damp cloth and carefully wiped away the remaining traces of medicine from the back of Li Xuan’s hand.
The young man’s brows were faintly furrowed. Even in deep sleep, his face remained pale and weak, cold sweat beading at his temples.
Chu Wanran looked at him, a sharp sting of self-reproach rising in his heart.
His fingers gently brushed Li Xuan’s burning forehead as he murmured softly, almost like a sigh:
“I clearly tried to close the distance… and yet I still couldn’t protect you. If I had known… if I had known earlier, I should have stopped you from stepping into this damned military camp. Maybe then you wouldn’t have suffered like this.”
After speaking, he leaned down and placed a very light kiss on Li Xuan’s smooth forehead—full of helplessness and tenderness.
“State of the patient?”
A deep voice suddenly broke the silence.
Zhao Chengyuan stepped inside. Snow dust clung to his black cloak, carrying a chill with him as he strode to the bedside. His eyes locked tightly onto Li Xuan’s sleeping face, anxiety barely restrained beneath his gaze.
“He still has a fever,” Chu Wanran replied, straightening up.
His tone returned to its usual calm, though his fingers still unconsciously checked Li Xuan’s temperature again.
“Elder Su says his spiritual energy is chaotic and weak. The situation isn’t good. He needs constant monitoring for the next few days. But his life is no longer in danger. As long as he wakes up, recovery will be gradual.”
“Any results from the investigation?”
Chu Wanran changed the topic.
“How did the Rift Wolf get into the back mountain?”
Zhao Chengyuan briefly explained the Soul Devouring insect eggs, the inter-realm tunnel, Qin Kuai’s escape, and the clue pointing to Mo Feiyan. His expression grew heavier.
“Alliance Master Chu,” he said, “I am currently tied down in the Fulong Camp. I cannot leave.”
“But this matter involves far more than Qin Kuai alone. I can only entrust this to you. If we remain on the defensive, Li Xuan will only be dragged into deeper danger.”
Chu Wanran suddenly let out a low laugh.
There was unmistakable mockery in it.
“So this is you asking for help.”
He turned, raising a brow at Zhao Chengyuan.
“Commander Zhao, do you even realize your situation right now? Your territory is being hollowed out, your camp is full of unknown spies, and you still don’t know who’s behind it. Right now you’re like a beast caught in a trap—thrashing blindly until you’re exhausted, then waiting to be slaughtered.”
“And you still talk about not letting Li Xuan fall into deeper danger?”
His voice sharpened.
“Everything that happened to him today is because of you. Because of your broken Fulong Camp.”
Zhao Chengyuan’s fists clenched tightly, knuckles whitening. Rage burned in his eyes—but he could not refute a single word.
He knew Chu Wanran was right.
All of it.
Because of the grievances of the Guang Prince’s estate… because of the mess left behind in the Fulong Camp… Li Xuan—and many others—had been dragged into this.
“You are right. I cannot deny it,” Zhao Chengyuan said after a long breath.
Chu Wanran blinked slightly, clearly not expecting him to concede so quickly.
“But,” Zhao Chengyuan continued, voice steady and low, “if I cannot hold the Fulong Camp, cannot hold Lingqu Prefecture, the civilians within these borders will suffer even more.”
Chu Wanran looked at him for a moment.
The anger in him eased slightly.
“Fine, fine,” he said, waving a hand lazily. “It’s not like there’s no solution.”
“If you really want to protect Li Xuan, then you stop defending blindly. You go on the offensive.”
He studied Zhao Chengyuan with a teasing look.
“You’ve got decent combat ability, but your brain isn’t exactly sharp. And you’ve got no one around you who actually knows how to plan. How did you even become commander? Probably just dragged into the position by your Guang Prince status.”
Zhao Chengyuan’s fist tightened again.
Hold it… focus on the bigger picture.
“Since you came to me, this is now a partnership,” Chu Wanran said matter-of-factly. “From now on, you listen to me. I’m your strategist.”
“What is your plan, Alliance Master Chu?” Zhao Chengyuan forced down his irritation.
“Li Xuan will be temporarily under my care.”
Chu Wanran gently wiped Li Xuan’s forehead again.
“You don’t have time to take care of him. First figure out your enemies—who is involved? Chancellor Li? Tianji Pavilion? Clean up internal issues first. Hold a recruitment competition. I’ll send capable people in.”
He spoke quickly, every word precise.
“As for the Western Ridge trade faction, I’ll handle it. Pull your scattered troops back. You don’t have enough manpower to waste them everywhere.”
“Remember: stabilize the inside before dealing with the outside.”
“Oh, and one more thing—you really need to figure out whether Elder Li Zhantian handed Fulong Camp to you to clean up a mess, or to make you the scapegoat. You act like someone who inherited a debt without knowing how much is owed.”
“Yo—you—”
Zhao Chengyuan’s face turned red with fury. He pointed at Chu Wanran but couldn’t form a complete sentence.
“Understanding your situation is the only way to plan properly,” Chu Wanran cut him off. “That’s settled. I’m taking Li Xuan.”
“Absolutely not!”
Zhao Chengyuan grabbed Chu Wanran’s wrist suddenly.
“I can protect him! The Fulong Camp has soldiers—I can keep him safe!”
Chu Wanran rolled his eyes so hard it was almost theatrical.
“Please. That’s just screaming ‘come target him.’ You want the whole world to know you’re guarding a treasure? That will only attract more people trying to steal or kill him.”
“He’s not a treasure!” Zhao Chengyuan snapped, almost childishly.
“Fine, not a treasure,” Chu Wanran sighed. “Enough. I don’t want to argue anymore. You should sleep. I’m staying here.”
“I will also stay.”
Zhao Chengyuan said immediately.
Before Chu Wanran could object, he sat down beside the bed, straight-backed, unmoving—like a man who would not leave even if the world ended.
Chu Wanran looked at him, then at the unconscious Li Xuan.
In the end, he said nothing more.
And so the two men who normally could not stand each other stayed in the same room through the night.
Candlelight flickered over their silhouettes. They argued in low voices from time to time, occasionally tensing at even the faintest sound from Li Xuan. Sometimes, under the cover of night, they even discussed strategy and the current situation.
A strange, fragile alliance was formed in the quiet snow-filled night.