Within Jinglan Court, the crisp sound of porcelain shattering suddenly pierced the silence of the deep palace.
When Consort Wan heard the news that Xiao Ying had vomited blood and fallen unconscious after the grand ceremony at the Temple of Heaven, the color instantly drained from her usually gentle and composed face. Her delicate hand trembled uncontrollably, and the celadon teacup in her palm slipped and smashed heavily against the blue-brick floor, shattering into pieces as tea splashed everywhere.
“Your Highness, please do not worry too much.” Eunuch Liu Changzhong, who served before the Emperor, hurriedly bowed, his voice soft and soothing. “His Highness Prince Yi has now been moved to a quiet chamber behind the Temple of Heaven to rest. The imperial physicians are taking turns attending to him with great care. His Majesty understands the deep bond between Your Highness and your son, and has specially permitted Your Highness to go to the Temple of Heaven immediately to visit him.”
Consort Wan’s fingers, resting on the armrest, curled slightly, their tips turning faintly white. A complicated hesitation flashed through her eyes.
She wished she could rush to the Temple of Heaven at once and stay by her son’s bedside. But she understood the Emperor’s political calculations all too well. This sudden “special permission” was by no means simply an expression of fatherly affection or imperial benevolence. The Emperor was breaking the strict rule forbidding imperial consorts from leaving the palace without permission. On the surface, this appeared to be an act of immense imperial grace and favor. In reality, he merely wanted to send a signal to the court and the various factions, pushing Xiao Ying into the center of the political storm and testing the reactions of the Eastern Palace and the other forces.
If she followed the Emperor’s wishes and went, it would be tantamount to personally confirming that Xiao Ying currently enjoyed the Emperor’s favor and stood at the center of the political maelstrom. But if she did not go, in the eyes of the officials and the Emperor, she would appear cold-hearted and estranged from her own son. That would only make her seem guilty.
Her deliberation lasted only an instant. In the end, a mother’s anguish over her child’s safety outweighed every political calculation.
The last time Xiao Ying had fallen into the water and suffered a high fever and serious illness, she had been unable to visit him in person. She had agonized over it for several days, and in the end, Xiao Ying had been forced to drag his barely recovered body into the palace to pay his respects before she could see him. The sight had broken her heart.
“Thank you, Eunuch Liu, for coming personally to deliver the message.” Consort Wan forced herself to remain calm and gave her instructions in a steady voice. “Once I have made my preparations, I shall accompany you.”
No matter how complicated the struggle for power and status became, nothing could outweigh the need to see with her own eyes that Xiao Ying was safe and sound.
◇◆◇◆◇
By the time Consort Wan arrived at the Temple of Heaven, it was already afternoon.
Since the Temple of Heaven was an important place of worship, she did not wear the elaborate and formal ceremonial attire of an imperial consort. Instead, she wore only a simple, elegant everyday outfit, with a single flower folded from white silk pinned into her black hair.
Apart from Steward Nanny Zhang, two personal palace maids, and several guards, no one else accompanied her. In all the years since entering the palace, this was the first time she had ever stepped beyond the gates of the inner palace. She had never imagined that the occasion would arise from such a dangerous turn of events.
She was led all the way to the entrance of a secluded chamber behind Jingzhai Palace.
Lan Ningcheng had already been waiting beneath the corridor.
The back of his right hand was covered with a clean dressing, through which a faint trace of blood could be seen. It was a bruise he had sustained earlier when he shielded Xiao Ying on the stone steps.
Upon seeing Consort Wan, he straightened his clothes, bowed, and saluted. “Your subject, Lan Ningcheng, pays his respects to Your Highness, Consort Wan.”
“How is Ying’er now?” Consort Wan kept her voice very low, but she could not conceal her anxious urgency.
Lan Ningcheng lowered his eyes slightly and replied in a solemn voice, “In response to Your Highness, His Highness has temporarily stopped vomiting blood. His pulse remains weak and unstable, and he has suffered a loss of qi and blood. He is still in a deep sleep. Please come in, Your Highness.”
With that, he stepped aside and pushed open the half-closed wooden door.
Consort Wan stepped quietly into the chamber.
To keep out the wind and light, the curtains had been lowered halfway, leaving the room somewhat dim.
Xiao Ying lay quietly on the bed. His face, which usually wore a carefree smile, was now as pale as paper, his thin lips having lost their last trace of color.
She recalled their reunion some time ago, when Xiao Ying had still been smiling as he told her amusing stories from outside the palace and teased her about trivial matters of daily life.
Seeing him now, so utterly lifeless, made her nose sting. She nearly lost control of her emotions on the spot.
But she understood that countless eyes belonging to the Emperor might be watching both inside and outside this chamber. She could not afford to reveal even the slightest sign of weakness or emotional collapse.
Consort Wan slowly walked to the bedside and sat down. With a trembling hand, she gently stroked Xiao Ying’s forehead and cheek.
All she felt against her palm was a chill.
Her eyes reddened, but she forcibly held back her tears. She merely reached beneath the covers and gently drew out Xiao Ying’s hand, enclosing it in her own.
That hand… was just as cold.
Her gaze inadvertently fell upon the luminous pearl Buddhist prayer beads that had accompanied Xiao Ying for many years, wrapped around his left wrist.
In the dim, hazy light of the chamber, the bracelet emitted a faint, gentle glow.
In daylight, the luminous pearls appeared pale bluish-white, as though veiled by a thin layer of moonlight. But now, in the darkness, they gave off a faint blue-and-white glow, with a pale violet halo around their edges.
At the clasp of the bracelet was a slightly larger Buddha-head bead in the shape of a deep blue-green lotus pedestal. Hanging beneath it was a small jade-green Buddhist pagoda, from which extended a tassel of deep blue and violet. It rested quietly beside his wrist.
Looking at the bracelet, Consort Wan’s thoughts could not help drifting back to a time long, long ago.
The original pearl had been a rare luminous gem purchased from merchants of the Western Regions by an ancestor of the Lin family. It was also a family heirloom of the Lin clan, passed down to daughters but never sons. When she had married into the palace all those years ago, her mother had tucked the pearl into the bottom of her dowry chest, saying that carrying it with her would be like having her family by her side.
It was not until the winter when Xiao Ying was four years old that he suddenly developed a high fever that refused to subside for three days. The Imperial Medical Academy prescribed countless medicines, yet his condition continued to fluctuate. The child burned with fever until he fell unconscious.
At the time, she was confined within the deep palace. Without an imperial decree, she could not leave the palace grounds at will. She did not even dare casually petition the Emperor for permission to leave, afraid of attracting the attention of the Empress and the other imperial consorts.
With nowhere else to turn, she took out the luminous pearl and instructed Nanny Zhang, her personal attendant, to secretly bring it, along with a handwritten letter, to Jingci Nunnery, a royal nunnery in the outskirts of the capital. The ostensible reason was to deliver scriptures for her mistress to offer. In truth, she wished to seek an audience with the familiar Buddhist nun, Master Jingming.
After reading the letter and examining the pearl, the nun sighed deeply.
“This pearl possesses spiritual power, but it is too large to be worn on one’s person. If Your Highness trusts this old nun, have it cut and polished into beads and strung into a bracelet. Let His Highness wear it on his wrist every day. The Buddha dwells within the beads, and the beads never leave his side. It will be as though the Buddha never leaves his side either.”
A craftsman cut and polished the luminous pearl into twenty-one round beads. Master Jingming personally recited scriptures over them and offered prayers. Eighteen of the beads were selected and strung into a bracelet, symbolizing the protection of the Eighteen Arhats, and Nanny Zhang was instructed to bring it back to the palace.
When Consort Wan personally fastened the bracelet around four-year-old Xiao Ying’s left wrist, something miraculous happened. By the following day, his high fever had completely subsided.
No one could say for certain whether the medicine had finally taken effect or whether the Buddhist beads had offered some unseen protection. But Consort Wan believed.
From then on, the bracelet never again left Xiao Ying’s wrist.
Every year on Xiao Ying’s birthday, she would take one of the remaining beads from the brocade pouch she had kept all those years ago and personally restring it onto his bracelet.
As he grew older, the beads grew with him, and so did the Buddha’s protection.
This bracelet embodied the deepest and purest wishes of her heart as a mother.
“Ying’er…” Consort Wan’s gaze returned to Xiao Ying’s face. Her voice was so soft that it was almost audible only to the two of them. “Mother is here.”
The person on the bed gave no response whatsoever. Only his faint, steady breathing proved that he was still alive.
Consort Wan quietly gazed at her son’s sleeping face.
It had been only a short while since she last saw him, yet he had grown so thin. Faint dark shadows lingered beneath his eyes, and he looked so fragile that a gust of wind might carry him away.
She knew very well that Xiao Ying had become entangled in a deeply complicated game of power behind her back, yet he had never been willing to reveal even the slightest hint of the dangers to her.
First, he had nearly lost his life after falling into the water. Now, he had vomited blood and fallen unconscious after the grand ceremony…
She did not know when these dangers would finally come to an end. But she could neither persuade him to stop nor allow herself to break down and weep in this place filled with watchful eyes.
After a while, Consort Wan took a deep breath, composed her emotions, and turned to look at Lan Ningcheng, who stood to one side.
Back then, she had secretly made arrangements to bring this man into Prince Yi’s residence as his chief steward. He had indeed lived up to her expectations. Over the past two years, Lan Ningcheng had carefully managed matters, looking after Xiao Ying’s daily needs, meals, and safety. Whenever Xiao Ying mentioned him in private, his words had always been filled with trust.
“Chief Steward Lan, has Ying’er… been unwell for some time now?” Consort Wan asked softly.
Lan Ningcheng lowered his head and replied, “His Highness has recently been burdened with state affairs. His longstanding stomach ailment has occasionally recurred. I have advised him several times to rest and recuperate, but he has too many matters weighing on his mind and has ultimately refused to stop.”
He chose his words carefully and did not mention the details of Xiao Ying’s efforts to withdraw from his alcohol addiction in a place where so many people had witnessed the grand ceremony.
Consort Wan nodded slightly. A look of understanding and sorrow passed through her eyes.
“Chief Steward Lan, it is thanks to you that he made it through this time. You’ve worked hard.”
Lan Ningcheng bowed slightly, his manner humble. “This is merely my duty. I dare not accept Your Highness’s praise.”
As a scholar from a merchant family in Jiangnan, his family had received considerable assistance and protection in its Jiangnan trade routes after he entered Prince Yi’s residence. He had always remembered this kindness and protection.
Consort Wan stayed in the quiet chamber for less than half an hour.
Considering the court’s ceremonial rules and the gossip that would arise outside, she ultimately could not remain any longer.
Before leaving, Consort Wan took a carefully wrapped wooden box from Nanny Zhang and personally handed it to Lan Ningcheng.
“Chief Steward Lan, there is a packet of excellent aged ginseng inside. Once Ying’er wakes up, have the imperial physicians examine it and add it to a qi-tonifying prescription. There is also a packet of fine bird’s nest. Tell the servants below to stew a bowl for him every day to nourish his stomach.”
Lan Ningcheng accepted the wooden box with both hands. It felt quite heavy.
“And this as well.” Consort Wan personally picked up a lacquered wooden food box. “These are osmanthus cakes I made myself. You’ve been keeping watch by his bedside all this time, so I imagine you haven’t had a proper meal either. Going hungry is bad for your health. When you feel hungry, have some to tide you over.”
Lan Ningcheng held the food box in both hands. Deeply touched by this mother’s consideration, he bowed respectfully and said, “Your subject thanks Your Highness for her kindness.”
Consort Wan said nothing more. She merely turned around, took one last deep look at Xiao Ying, who remained asleep on the bed, and suppressed the sorrow filling her heart.
“Take good care of him.”
“Your subject will not fail Your Highness’s trust.”
After leaving the chamber, Consort Wan stopped beneath the corridor and called Nanny Zhang to her side, quietly giving her a few instructions.
Nanny Zhang understood immediately. She hurriedly took a heavy embroidered purse from her sleeve and went to the entrance of the side hall, distributing several ingots of gleaming silver among the guards at the door, the palace maids serving in the inner chamber, and the young eunuchs delivering soup and water.
“These are rewards from Consort Wan. Thank you all for your hard work caring for His Highness.”
The palace attendants and eunuchs accepted the silver and hurriedly bowed to thank her for the favor.
After distributing the rewards, Nanny Zhang quietly returned to Consort Wan’s side and whispered, “Your Highness, the carriage is fully prepared. The imperial guards are also urging us to leave…”
Consort Wan stood quietly beneath the long corridor of the Temple of Heaven. A gentle breeze brushed past, stirring the hem of her simple skirt and the white silk flower in her hair. She had already taken a step forward, but her footsteps paused slightly as she crossed the threshold of the corridor.
In the end, she could not resist turning around once more.
Through the overlapping layers of dim curtains and the narrow gap in the half-closed lacquered wooden door, the tiny, faintly yellow flame of the lamp inside the chamber flickered. The thin, emaciated figure on the bed had already been swallowed by the deep shadows for the most part.
After leaving this time, she did not know when she would see him again. Nor could she know what kind of perilous circumstances would surround their next meeting.
Consort Wan stood gazing for a long time. Her eyes grew faintly red, and her fingernails dug deeply into her palms.
Only when Nanny Zhang called out “Your Highness” again, her voice tinged with anxiety, did Consort Wan seem to awaken from a dream. She took a deep breath and forced all her weakness and sorrow back into the depths of her chest.
She did not look back again. Turning around, she walked with steady, restrained steps toward the carriage that would take her back to the palace.
◆◇◆◇◆
The sky shifted from the hour of Shen into the hour of You. The evening dusk, like layer upon layer of thin ink, settled heavily over the glazed tiles of the quiet chamber.
No large candles had been lit inside. The only light came from a bronze oil lamp on the desk, half-covered by a blue gauze shade, its flame casting a tiny circle of yellow light. The mottled shadows fell across the half-lowered curtains, making the secluded chamber seem even colder and lonelier.
During this time, the elderly imperial physician on duty came in several times to examine Xiao Ying. He lifted Xiao Ying’s eyelids and carefully checked his pulse. Seeing that the person on the bed remained unconscious, his brows drew tightly together. In a low voice, he said to Lan Ningcheng, who was standing nearby:
“His Highness’s condition is truly difficult to treat. With the stomach lining damaged and bleeding, he should strictly avoid food. However, the alcohol toxins accumulated in his body have yet to be cleared. If we suddenly cut off both alcohol and food now, his body may not be able to withstand it.”
Lan Ningcheng’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression darkening. “Then what should we do?”
“We can only take a middle course.” The imperial physician pondered for a moment, his expression grave. “Once His Highness regains consciousness and can swallow on his own, we can first try giving him a tiny sip of thin rice broth or warm water mixed with a little sugar. The amount must be extremely small. Someone must stay with him every time and watch for nausea, worsening abdominal pain, or another episode of vomiting blood. He must not drink large mouthfuls of water either. We can use a cotton cloth dipped in warm water to moisten his lips and mouth.”
“What if he vomits blood again?” Lan Ningcheng pressed.
“If he vomits any more blood, stop immediately. Do not give him anything further.” The imperial physician’s tone grew even more solemn. “This is not an ordinary case of fasting and recuperation. Until the bleeding has completely stabilized, we are merely trying to preserve a breath of life for His Highness by whatever means we can. But given his present condition, there is no other way. We can only take this dangerous chance and hope for the best.”
Lan Ningcheng glanced at Xiao Ying on the bed, whose brows remained slightly furrowed even in his unconscious state. Lowering his voice, he asked, “If His Highness wakes suddenly during the night, or still suffers from trembling hands, palpitations, or restlessness after waking, is there any way to deal with it? His Highness’s stomach has already been damaged, and now he has vomited blood. I dare not alter his medication or dosage on my own.”
Hearing this, the imperial physician stroked his graying beard.
“Lord Lan, you are indeed very thorough in your considerations. His Highness has indulged in alcohol for many years. If he suddenly stops drinking by force, especially after fasting and exhausting himself during the grand ceremony, it would be understandable if he experiences trembling hands, palpitations, or even severe agitation and restlessness after waking. However, the bleeding from his stomach lining has only just stopped. Preserving his stomach and preventing further bleeding must remain our priority. We should not casually increase the strength of his medication.”
As he spoke, the imperial physician turned and opened the wooden medicine chest he had brought with him. He took out a delicate little celadon bottle, along with a prescription record sheet covered in fine, dense handwriting, which had been placed beneath it. He set both on the desk.
“This is the Imperial Medical Academy’s standard Calming Pill. It is prepared according to an old formula used within the academy, combining medicinal ingredients such as crimson marrow, amber, and poria with spirit. It is commonly used for restlessness of the mind and difficulty sleeping at night. This sheet contains the accompanying formula and preparation record, with the dosages and preparation date recorded in detail. If His Highness wakes and truly exhibits trembling and restlessness, you may consider using these pills. As for the dosage, it must depend on His Highness’s condition at the time. Under no circumstances should you give him more simply in the hope of calming his mind.”
Lan Ningcheng did not immediately reach for it. His eyes were deep as a still pool as he asked in an even voice, “How long has this medicine been used by the Imperial Medical Academy?”
“This formula has been passed down for a long time. I had already seen it when I first entered the Imperial Medical Academy.” The imperial physician replied, “The academy keeps bound volumes of prescriptions and preparation records. If Your Lordship wishes to examine them, you may consult them at any time.”
“Since it is an old formula, its medicinal properties must have been tested many times.”
“Indeed.” The imperial physician nodded. “Medicine used in the palace has always emphasized tradition and established regulations. This pill is not a newly developed formula. Physicians in successive generations have prepared it according to the same prescription. As long as the diagnosis is correct and the dosage appropriate, Your Lordship need not worry too much.”
Only then did Lan Ningcheng reach out and pick up the porcelain bottle and the folded prescription sheet beside it.
He did not remove the stopper. He merely turned the bottle halfway around, then unfolded the prescription and glanced over the listed medicinal ingredients and quantities, including “crimson marrow, amber, poria with spirit, and polygala root.”
“Crimson marrow\…” Lan Ningcheng’s voice remained steady. He lightly pinched the corner of the prescription, asking as though in passing, “I have rarely heard of this medicinal ingredient before. Was it only introduced into the Imperial Medical Academy in recent years?”
The imperial physician looked somewhat surprised, then smiled.
“Lord Lan may not know this, but crimson marrow was not introduced into the Imperial Medical Academy only recently. When I was organizing the medical classics in my early years, I came across related records in an ancient text dating back four hundred years. However, the name used at the time and the processing method were not entirely the same as those used today. Unless one has read those ancient volumes, younger physicians might not know about this part of its history.”
Lan Ningcheng’s expression shifted slightly, a faint trace of puzzlement passing through his eyes.
“If both the name and processing method were different, how did the imperial physician determine that the two were related?”
The imperial physician stroked his beard and pondered before replying, “At the time, I compared several volumes of ancient prescriptions with the current pharmacopoeia, one by one. The minerals, medicinal properties, and some of the combinations recorded in the old texts did bear similarities to crimson marrow. However, the current pharmacopoeia lists separate processing procedures. As for when these procedures were added, or why a new name was established, I am not sure.”
Lan Ningcheng’s expression shifted slightly again. His fingers still held the corner of the prescription, and his tone remained unhurried.
“Since the records in the old texts and the current pharmacopoeia are not entirely the same, which came first? Was the processing method changed first, or was the medicinal ingredient given a new name first?”
The imperial physician was taken aback, seemingly not expecting him to ask such detailed questions. After pondering for a moment, he replied, “That… I would not dare to make any unfounded claims about. The current pharmacopoeia only records the name crimson marrow and its processing procedures. As for when it was renamed, when the additional steps were introduced, or why those revisions were made in the first place, the book does not explain. It was already recorded that way when I entered the academy, and no one has specifically questioned it in the decades since.”
He paused, then added, “However, the processing of crimson marrow does involve one more step than that of ordinary mineral medicines. I have never looked closely into when that particular step was first introduced.”
Lan Ningcheng lowered his eyes and lightly rubbed the corner of the prescription with his fingertips.
“I see. If we wish to uncover its history, we will have to consult the revision records of the pharmacopoeia from that period.”
“Precisely.” The imperial physician replied, “If the Imperial Medical Academy still retains the original revision registers from that time, we might be able to find some clues. However, so many years have passed. I cannot guarantee that the records have been preserved completely.”
Lan Ningcheng placed the prescription back on the table and asked, “Then has the formula for the Calming Pill used by the Imperial Medical Academy been changed over the generations?”
“The formula has naturally undergone revisions.”
The imperial physician assumed that Lan Ningcheng was simply being cautious, so he answered without giving it much thought.
“The places of origin of the medicinal ingredients, processing methods, and proportions of the ingredients may all have been adjusted slightly over the generations. However, the basic principles of the Calming Pill have not changed significantly, and the academy has always prepared it according to established regulations. As for the reasons behind each revision, I inherited the formula in its present form when I entered the academy, so I may not know the details.”
Lan Ningcheng’s gaze fell on the two characters for “crimson marrow” on the prescription. His voice lowered slightly.
“Then did any of these revisions involve restrictions on dosage or warnings against prolonged use?”
The imperial physician, who had already begun packing up his medicine chest, paused slightly at these words.
“Warnings against prolonged use…”
He pondered for a moment before answering cautiously, “I would not dare to make a definitive judgment. Ancient texts do indeed contain restrictions on certain mineral medicines based on their medicinal properties, dosage, and duration of use. As for whether the old formula from which crimson marrow was derived had any additional prohibitions, or whether it explicitly recorded the harm caused by prolonged use, we would still need to consult the original volumes to be certain.”
“Then the fact that something is not recorded in the current pharmacopoeia does not necessarily mean it never appeared in the old texts?”
“That is certainly true.” The imperial physician admitted. “The pharmacopoeia focuses on standardizing medicinal names, processing methods, and usage regulations. It does not necessarily include every marginal note found in the old texts. If those old annotations were not copied over during later revisions, future generations would have difficulty learning their original contents from the current pharmacopoeia. As for how those decisions were made at the time, if no explanation of the revisions was preserved, it would be even harder to investigate.”
The elderly imperial physician spoke with complete candor, as though he were merely discussing the ordinary omissions that occurred when compiling medical texts.
The imperial physician seemed to recall something and added, “Come to think of it, there is something rather interesting about crimson marrow. Its processing is more complicated than that of ordinary mineral medicines, so the finished product is scarce and naturally more expensive. The nobles in the palace have always been particular about the origins and quality of their medicines. Over the years, there have been quite a few who specifically requested crimson marrow by name.”
Lan Ningcheng raised his eyes to look at him for a moment, his tone still indifferent.
“Since the finished product is scarce, how does the Imperial Medical Academy ensure an adequate supply?”
“The pharmacy naturally purchases it according to established procedures. We physicians only concern ourselves with prescribing and administering the medicine. As for the suppliers, purchase prices, and origins of the raw materials, those matters fall outside my responsibilities.”
Lan Ningcheng nodded slightly and asked no more questions.
“His Highness has yet to regain consciousness. Please leave this pill here for now. Once His Highness wakes, if he truly suffers from trembling and restlessness, I will ask you to come and examine him personally. As for the prescription, please prepare another copy, noting the medicinal ingredients, quantities, and preparation date, and keep it as part of the medical records for this treatment.”
The imperial physician naturally had no suspicions. He immediately bowed and agreed.
“That is only proper. His Highness holds a noble status, and all diagnoses and medications must be recorded. I shall have the pharmacy prepare the records as soon as I return. If Lord Lan wishes to consult the old texts, you may also submit an application to the academy.”
“Thank you for your trouble, Imperial Physician.”
Lan Ningcheng escorted the imperial physician to the door.
Once the heavy doors closed, he turned around. Xiao Ying was still lying on the bed, fast asleep.
Lan Ningcheng returned to the desk and let his gaze fall upon the prescription. He silently turned the two characters “Calming Pill” over and over in his mind.
Originally, he had merely been exercising his customary caution and wanted to ask one more question on His Highness’s behalf. Who would have thought that a calming medicine would appear once again?
If he had not already known that crimson marrow was suspicious, perhaps he would have personally helped the imperial physician administer this medicine to Xiao Ying…
He could not help inwardly mocking himself again. His Highness had been right. Nowadays, the moment he heard the words “calming medicine,” he became instantly alert.
And he had even managed to pry open a hidden crack in the history of a medicinal name that had been changed four hundred years ago.
The elderly imperial physician did not know the deeper significance of the matter. It did not necessarily mean he had deliberately brought out the Calming Pill. He was merely following standard procedure.
He might not even have been able to explain when the name crimson marrow and its processing regulations had first come into use. He was simply following the old practices that the Imperial Medical Academy had maintained for many years, preparing medicine according to the prescription.
But to Lan Ningcheng, the medicinal name itself was not the only thing worth investigating.
Four hundred years ago, why had this mineral medicine been renamed?
Who had proposed the newly added processing step, and when had it been incorporated into the pharmacopoeia?
If the original prohibitions were still part of the laws and regulations, on what grounds had crimson marrow been granted approval for medicinal use?
More importantly, since the pharmacopoeia had gradually stopped recording the prohibitions found in older texts over successive generations, had those warnings originally passed down alongside the medicinal ingredients simply been overlooked, or had someone deliberately prevented later generations from seeing them?
For Lan Ningcheng, who had an unfailing memory and could accurately map out connections between old court cases and networks of historical records in his mind, this had already provided a clear trail to follow.
Four hundred years ago…
His mind brought up the old case recorded in Xiao Ying’s investigation notes.
Four hundred years ago, the Su clan had been exterminated for the crime of treason. And in the historical records of that period, the Sheng clan had appeared alongside the Su clan.
Whether these two matters were related remained undetermined.
He would first have to investigate the revision records of the pharmacopoeia from four hundred years ago, compare the differences between the old texts and the current pharmacopoeia, and then trace the origins of the newly added processing step and the circumstances under which crimson marrow had obtained approval for medicinal use.
He would also have to investigate all the prohibitions that had gradually disappeared from the pharmacopoeia.
If these changes had indeed taken place during the same period as the extermination of the Su clan, then the Sheng clan was certainly not merely another family mentioned alongside the Su clan in the history books.
Lan Ningcheng slowly gathered up the prescription. His gaze quickly swept over the medicinal names, dosages, and preparation date recorded on it. Every single stroke of ink on the paper was precisely imprinted in the depths of his mind.
Lan Ningcheng reached out and carefully put away both the prescription and the celadon bottle.
He took a clean white cotton cloth, soaked it in warm water, and wrung it out lightly. Then he returned to the bedside and gently wiped the dried moisture from Xiao Ying’s lips.
When the cloth touched them, Xiao Ying’s lips moved almost imperceptibly, as though instinctively trying to draw in that trace of moisture. His eyelashes trembled a few times, but in the end, he could not open his eyes and sank back into deep sleep.
Beneath the dim yellow lamplight, Lan Ningcheng quietly gazed at Xiao Ying’s pale, slender profile. A dark glimmer passed through the depths of his eyes.
◇◆◇◆◇
The night grew deep. From a distance, the Temple of Heaven echoed with the faint sound of patrolling guards’ boots and the howling of the wind.
It was not until the second quarter of the Hai hour, deep into the night, that the quiet figure on the bed finally stirred slightly.
Xiao Ying slowly opened his eyes.
The scene before him was blurred and indistinct. The only thing he could make out was the tiny solitary lamp on the desk, its weak yellow light flickering gently.
Amid the shifting, mottled lamplight, he stiffly moved his eyes. First, he saw Lan Ningcheng sitting in a straight-backed wooden chair diagonally across from him, keeping watch beneath the light. Only then did he notice the unfamiliar, cold interior of the room.
The memory of the warm, metallic sweetness surging into his throat just before he collapsed came flooding back, making his temples throb with pain.
Xiao Ying’s brows drew tightly together, and a deep sense of frustration rose in his heart.
He had never expected to collapse twice in just two short months.
The first time had been the serious illness after falling into the water. This time, the debts he had accumulated over four years had finally come due.
And at such a critical moment…
The first thing his mind calculated was how long it would take him to recover from this collapse, and how much time he had left.
He tried to move his arm, only to discover that his entire body was cold and weak. His fingertips trembled uncontrollably with an unbearable quiver. Cold sweat trickled from his temples, dampening his sideburns, while waves of weakness and nausea rose uncontrollably in his chest and stomach.
Even a slight turn of his head sent overwhelming dizziness and ringing in his ears crashing over him like enormous waves.
Lan Ningcheng noticed the movement on the bed immediately.
He stared at Xiao Ying’s utterly bloodless face. After a long while, he quietly let out a breath and broke the silence.
“Your Highness certainly made quite a spectacular collapse today… one that stirred up the entire court.”
Xiao Ying’s voice was weak and hoarse, carrying a hint of helplessness.
“…Stop making sarcastic remarks. Just tell me directly… what is the situation now?”
Seeing that His Highness had just returned from the gates of death, yet the first thing he did upon opening his eyes was worry about the state of affairs, Lan Ningcheng did not know whether he should be angry or laugh. In the end, the heaviness and bitterness in his heart turned into a quiet sigh.
He gathered his thoughts and reported in a solemn voice:
“After Your Highness vomited blood and collapsed, His Majesty ordered the imperial physicians to do everything in their power to save you. He also instructed that you be moved to this quiet chamber at the Temple of Heaven to recuperate, with physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy taking turns to examine and treat you. In addition… His Majesty specially permitted Consort Wan to come and visit you.”
Upon hearing this, Xiao Ying’s gaze paused slightly. After a moment of silence, he asked hoarsely, “Mother Consort… came?”
“Her Highness came this afternoon and stayed for about half an hour before leaving,” Lan Ningcheng replied.
Xiao Ying had wanted to nod, but at present, he no longer had the strength even to move his head.
He understood what it meant that Father Emperor had permitted Mother Consort to come to the Temple of Heaven.
But at this moment, his battered body left him no strength to think deeply about it.
What filled him with the greatest guilt and heartache was that once again, he had made his mother, confined in the deep palace, worry over him and shed tears.
Father Emperor’s permission for her to come was both a favor and a torment.
For a consort who usually lived in seclusion to set foot in the Temple of Heaven meant facing the gazes of the entire court and enduring all the speculation and gossip. These were burdens she should never have had to bear.
But since it had already happened, all he could do was try his best to make amends.
“Mother Consort… send someone to inform her. Tell her that I’ve woken up and that she needn’t worry…”
After speaking so many words in one breath, Xiao Ying’s breathing grew labored, and a faint cramping pain came from his upper abdomen. He closed his eyes and rested for several breaths before asking softly again, “The residence… has the news been sent there?”
Lan Ningcheng’s expression paused briefly before he replied, “I’ve already sent word to the residence. If anyone asks, they are to say that Your Highness is recuperating.”
With his eyes closed, Xiao Ying spoke slowly as he gave his instructions.
“…The residence must give everyone the same explanation. Say that I have long suffered from an old stomach ailment, and that recently, my diet became irregular because of my workload handling state affairs. Combined with the exhaustion from the grand ceremony, it damaged my stomach lining and caused a sudden episode of vomiting blood. After treatment by the imperial physicians, the bleeding has stopped, but I still need to rest and be observed. As for those within the residence…”
He paused to catch his breath. A hidden thought flashed through the depths of his eyes.
“Within the residence… just say that my old stomach ailment has flared up. There’s no need to mention the details, and absolutely do not mention how dangerous the vomiting of blood was.”
Lan Ningcheng understood perfectly well. This “within the residence” naturally referred to the person far away at Wangchen Cove.
Xiao Ying did not want Wu Jiuling to worry, nor did he want the other man to become entangled in this chilling political maelstrom out of excessive concern for him.
“Your Highness need not worry. I understand,” Lan Ningcheng replied.
Xiao Ying slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside before adding, “If anyone comes asking… reply according to the imperial physician’s explanation as well. The bleeding has stopped, and a few days of rest should be enough for me to recover. There’s no point in saying anything more about the other matters…”
After giving his instructions, Xiao Ying breathed faintly. His throat felt dry and painfully raw.
Seeing this, Lan Ningcheng reached for the slightly warm sugar water that the imperial physician had specifically instructed them to prepare. He scooped up a little with a small white porcelain spoon and gently brought it to Xiao Ying’s lips, feeding him a tiny sip. Then he took a cotton cloth and carefully dabbed the corner of his mouth dry.
The small amount of warm water eased the dryness and burning in his throat and soothed the hollow nausea in his stomach. Xiao Ying slowly let out a breath of relief.
As the lamplight shifted, Xiao Ying inadvertently caught sight of the dressing wrapped around the back of Lan Ningcheng’s right hand. A small patch of dried blood had seeped through its edge.
Xiao Ying’s gaze settled on it. In a weak, hoarse voice, he asked, “Your hand… what happened to it?”
Lan Ningcheng’s movements paused. He lowered his eyes to glance at his right hand, then withdrew the cloth and replied expressionlessly,
“Does Your Highness really have no idea how I injured this hand?”
Xiao Ying was slightly taken aback.
The hazy memory of someone desperately rushing forward to break his fall at the moment he collapsed suddenly surfaced.
Knowing that he was in the wrong, he was momentarily at a loss for words.
In the end, he could only say weakly, “…I was at fault.”
Lan Ningcheng put away the cotton cloth. His voice was low but exceptionally stern.
“Your Highness should pay more attention to yourself. I will naturally make all the necessary arrangements without leaving a single detail unattended. But Your Highness… no matter how you choose to strategize and maneuver politically in the future, you must never again treat your own life and body as bargaining chips that can be casually sacrificed.”
A faint, exceedingly weak bitter smile appeared at the corner of Xiao Ying’s lips.
“I don’t want to either. The grand ceremony was almost over, and I was about to finish everything and withdraw safely… Who knew Father Emperor would suddenly intervene and summon me at the very last moment?”
Lan Ningcheng stared at him and asked coldly, “Does Your Highness realize that today you almost truly ‘withdrew safely’ from this world?”
Xiao Ying: “…”
Hearing such sharp and cutting words from a chief steward who was usually so rigid and proper, Xiao Ying felt a wave of helplessness.
Why was it that after struggling so hard to wake up, the first thing he heard was such a scathing lecture?
Could it be… that his condition had truly been that dangerous?
Unfortunately, another overwhelming wave of heaviness washed over him. His head felt as though it were filled with lead, and his eyelids weighed as much as a thousand catties.
Xiao Ying managed to murmur half a sentence.
“…I’ll listen to your lecture… later… Let me… sleep a little longer first…”
His voice gradually weakened. It was unclear whether he had simply run out of strength and slipped back into deep sleep.
Lan Ningcheng watched the person on the bed fall silent once more, remaining motionless for a long time.
He rose and walked to the desk, slightly adjusting the wick of the oil lamp to make it brighter. Then he used scissors to trim away the charred wick. The yellow lamplight spread another half a foot, lengthening the shadow of his solitary night watch and casting it across the mottled wall.
Looking at the figure on the bed, whose brows remained tightly furrowed even in sleep, Lan Ningcheng could only let out a deep, helpless sigh.
This man had woken up without even asking how close he had come to death’s door. The only things he ever worried about were schemes, countermeasures, and tying up loose ends.
He truly had no idea what to do with Xiao Ying…
◇◆◇◆◇
The nights at Wangchen Cove were always exceptionally quiet.
This secluded place, hidden away from the bustle of the world, was cut off from the undercurrents of the imperial court and the noise of the mortal world.
A warm horn-shaped wind lantern burned inside the room, its soft yellow glow casting Wu Jiuling’s shadow across the mottled bamboo blinds.
He was seated at his desk, carefully studying the rare and ancient books that Xiao Ying had collected for him.
However, whenever the night grew deeper and passed into the Hai hour, Wu Jiuling would unconsciously stop turning the pages, quiet his breathing, and prick up his ears to listen carefully for sounds coming from the direction of the rear garden.
On previous nights, Xiao Ying had always liked to sit beside the Xuanhua Waterside Pavilion and drink. Whenever the mood struck him, the ethereal, melodious sound of his konghou would drift through the corridors and trees, floating faintly into this study.
But there had been no music last night.
Because Xiao Ying had entered the fasting chamber as usual to abstain from alcohol and purify his mind.
There was no music tonight either.
Today was the grand ceremony at the southern suburbs to pray to Heaven for victory in war. Judging by the time, the ceremony should have ended long ago, and Xiao Ying ought to have returned to his residence. Although Xiao Ying had once smiled and promised him that he would gradually overcome the alcohol addiction he had suffered from for so many years, Wu Jiuling knew perfectly well that a chronic affliction and dependence accumulated over so long could not be easily cast aside overnight.
For some reason, his mind was unsettled tonight. An inexplicable sense of unease kept stirring in his chest.
Wu Jiuling put down the book in his hands, turned his head slightly, and called softly, “Ai Qin.”
Ai Qin, who had been waiting outside in the corridor, heard him and pushed the door open. He stood respectfully before the desk.
“What does Young Master need?”
“Has His Highness returned to the residence?” Wu Jiuling looked directly at him, his voice calm.
Ai Qin’s figure stiffened slightly. His long eyelashes lowered, but he kept his voice steady.
“In response to Young Master, a message just came from the main courtyard. His Highness returned to the residence some time ago and is currently resting in the main courtyard. I heard that he stood for a long time during today’s grand ceremony and was somewhat uncomfortable in the stomach and spleen. Chief Steward Lan has already summoned the residence physician to examine his pulse and prescribe medicine to regulate his condition. They say a few days of rest should be enough for him to recover.”
Wu Jiuling quietly studied him.
His past experiences at Shuyu Pavilion and in the streets, where he had witnessed every kind of human warmth and coldness, had given him the ability to easily detect even the slightest irregularities in another person’s words and actions.
Ai Qin’s almost imperceptible hesitation just now, his evasive gaze, and his overly smooth and complete response had already exposed the concealment behind his words.
If it were truly nothing more than an ordinary stomach ailment, why would he go to such lengths to downplay it?
…Something dangerous must have happened to Xiao Ying during today’s grand ceremony.
At this thought, Wu Jiuling felt a wave of bitterness in his chest.
If Ai Qin had been ordered to keep silent, the person who had given that order could only have been Xiao Ying or Lan Ningcheng.
If Xiao Ying had specifically instructed them to hide the truth from him, was it because his physical condition had already deteriorated beyond repair?
Or was he simply unwilling to make Wu Jiuling worry along with him?
Countless questions swirled in his heart, but here in this secluded place, there was not a single person who could give him a truthful answer.
After a few breaths, Wu Jiuling did not press him for an explanation. He merely nodded slightly.
“I understand. You may leave and get some rest.”
“This servant takes his leave.” Ai Qin answered before withdrawing and carefully closing the door.
Once the door was shut, the room fell silent again.
Wu Jiuling’s gaze returned to the book on the desk, but the words on the page where he had stopped could no longer enter his mind.
After a long while, he gently closed the book and pushed it aside.
The fingers resting on the edge of the desk quietly tightened.
…Even if he learned the truth, what could he do?
From beginning to end, he had done nothing but accept Xiao Ying’s meticulous protection and kindness.
He had not expended even the slightest effort himself. It was Xiao Ying who had mobilized an enormous network of connections to help him find his long-lost younger sister. It was Xiao Ying who had settled him in Wangchen Cove, this top-secret and secure haven, and even invited a teacher to instruct him in historical records…
And what about himself?
Back when he was at Shuyu Pavilion, he had at least been able to protect himself by observing people’s hearts and discerning lies.
But now, faced with the royal turmoil and the dangers of the imperial court that Xiao Ying carried on his shoulders, his own meager intelligence seemed utterly inadequate.
Was he destined to remain trapped in this small corner of the world, like a dependent with no purpose of his own, waiting day after day for that figure dressed in purple to return?
Outside the window, the night was so thick that it seemed impossible to dissolve. In the distance, the pines and cypresses rustled in the wind, their sounds surging like waves.
A ruthless and heart-stopping thought suddenly flashed through his mind like a bolt of thunder—
What if, one day, the storm in the imperial court came crashing down… and Xiao Ying never returned?
Wangchen Cove was like a refuge completely cut off from the world. Was he destined to be nothing more than someone standing outside the harbor, waiting for the storm to pass?
The night wind slipped through the window lattice, making the flame of the horn-shaped wind lantern on the desk flicker repeatedly. Its light danced between brightness and darkness across the bamboo blinds and walls, enveloping Wu Jiuling’s slender figure.
He quietly stared at the unsteady flame. The confusion and unease that had originally filled his eyes were completely suppressed, replaced by a cold, quiet determination gradually gathering beneath the lamplight.