This divine physician was rather strange. He neither told them his name nor asked for payment.
He merely took back his pigeon, then asked for two jars of aged Nü’erhong wine. With an umbrella in one hand, the wine in the other, and the pigeon slung over his shoulder, he left alone.
He did not even agree when Jinbao asked to have the Embroidered Uniform Guard escort him.
“I said I was living in seclusion, so I mean living in seclusion,” he said. “This time, you lot dragged me into this mess. Consider yourselves lucky. Once I go back, I’ll move. You really think I’d let you escort me all the way there?”
With that, he carried the wine away.
After seeing him off, Jun Huailang immediately hurried to the bedside.
Xue Yan’s injuries were on his back, and he was quietly lying facedown on the bed.
He was bare-chested, with the quilt covering only his waist. The bandages wrapped from beneath his arm all the way around his waist and abdomen. They were clean and white, outlining his firm, well-defined muscles so clearly that from a distance, he looked as though he had barely been injured at all.
Jun Huailang slowly sat down beside the bed.
Xue Yan’s strong arms were completely exposed outside the covers. Jun Huailang silently looked at him for a moment. Then, as if possessed by some inexplicable impulse, he reached out and took Xue Yan’s wrist.
The steady pulse traveled through the flesh, one beat after another, reaching the pads of Jun Huailang’s fingers.
He held Xue Yan’s wrist for a long time before finally seeming to come back to himself. Only then did an expression appear on his face.
His eyes quickly reddened. Immediately afterward, tears welled up, blurring his vision.
Jun Huailang hurriedly raised a hand and wiped away the tears before they could fall.
Only now did he gradually begin to feel somewhat alive again.
That steady, powerful pulse finally pulled him out, little by little, from the icy abyss he had fallen into.
Xue Yan was fine. He would not die.
That realization finally brought sensation back to Jun Huailang’s nerves, which had been numb for so long.
He sat there, staring at Xue Yan without blinking.
And the hand holding Xue Yan’s wrist unconsciously tightened around his palm.
Rough and warm, it was no longer as cold as before.
Just then, Jinbao knocked on the door.
“Your Highness,” he said. “The Duke of Yongning and Magistrate Shen have both arrived.”
Only then did Jun Huailang suddenly come back to himself and release Xue Yan’s hand.
Jinbao pushed open the door.
Outside were his father, Magistrate Shen, and a group of local Yangzhou officials. Standing beside them was a young man—it was Shen Liufeng.
None of the officials dared enter and disturb them, so they remained standing at the doorway. Jinbao stepped aside, and only the Duke of Yongning and Magistrate Shen entered.
Shen Liufeng followed behind them, limping.
“This truly has caused His Highness and Your Highness an enormous amount of trouble!” Magistrate Shen said in anguish the moment he entered. Even someone as smooth and worldly as him could not say anything else at this moment. He merely pulled Shen Liufeng forward and said, “This subordinate has deliberately brought my good-for-nothing nephew here to offer our apologies!”
If something had really happened today, whether it was Xue Yan or Jun Huailang who had been injured, it was not something he could afford to bear responsibility for.
Especially Xue Yan.
Never mind if some life-threatening accident had actually occurred—even if Xue Yan had not returned completely unharmed this time, and had merely lost a finger, Magistrate Shen would still have been unable to escape responsibility.
This was the imperial son most beloved and highly regarded by the current Emperor.
By this time, Jun Huailang had finally regained some semblance of normalcy, though his eyes were still red.
“It’s all right. This isn’t something Liufeng could have anticipated either.” He forced a smile, then his gaze fell upon Shen Liufeng.
“What happened to Liufeng…” He looked at Shen Liufeng’s leg.
A look of shame appeared on Shen Liufeng’s face. “It’s nothing serious. It happened when I went to look for the divine physician… The mountain road was slippery, and I fell off my horse. The divine physician already examined me just now. He said it’s nothing serious. I just need to stop running around like this and stay home for a few more days.”
Jun Huailang nodded.
“Is His Highness all right?” the Duke of Yongning asked.
Jun Huailang said, “The divine physician said there’s nothing serious anymore. We just have to wait for His Highness to wake up.”
The Duke of Yongning nodded.
He had never been a man of many words, but now he instructed Jun Huailang, “His Highness risked his life to save you this time. You must remember this favor firmly.”
Jun Huailang nodded.
“Did the divine physician say when His Highness will wake up?” Magistrate Shen hurriedly asked.
Jun Huailang shook his head. “Not yet. My lord, there’s no need to worry. I’ll stay here and watch over His Highness until he wakes.”
The Duke of Yongning nodded approvingly.
Jun Huailang could see what he meant from his expression. He meant that he had done the right thing, and that he should repay such kindness with gratitude.
Jun Huailang lowered his eyes.
He could not bring himself to say that what he was thinking now had nothing to do with repaying a favor.
He simply wanted to stay by this person’s side. He wanted to watch him wake up. That was all.
——
Candles were lit in the room.
Because Xue Yan needed peace and rest, the officials did not stay for long. They took their leave and returned to the government office.
For a while, only Jun Huailang and a few servants remained in the room.
Jinbao’s hands were both occupied at the moment, so he had two more servants stay behind to attend to them. He directed the group to serve Jun Huailang some tea, then went to arrange some food.
It was already midnight. Jun Huailang had left the house at dawn and still had not eaten anything.
But when the food was brought over, he only ate a few bites before having them take it away again.
Jinbao could vaguely sense that if his master did not wake for several days, His Highness the Heir probably would not be able to eat for several days either.
So he did not urge him much. Once night had fallen, he refilled his tea and added more oil to the lamp, then led several young servants out.
Just before closing the door, Jinbao looked inside once more.
At this moment, Jun Huailang sat quietly beside the bed, his black hair falling loose around him, his body as graceful as a jade tree. Even his solitary silhouette was so pleasing to the eye that it looked like a painting.
The group walked a short distance away.
One of the young servants who had been attending them all day gathered his courage and asked Jinbao, “Eunuch Jin, why were you smiling just now?”
Jinbao glanced sideways at him. “When did I smile?”
Another young servant followed up, “Just now, when you were closing the door.”
Jinbao paused, then shot them a sidelong look. “Don’t ask about things you shouldn’t.”
These youngsters were so dull they did not even know when to refill the tea, yet they actually wanted to understand what was going on here?
His master had hurried all the way from Chang’an to Jinling, then followed them to Yangzhou. Wasn’t it all for that one person?
And even after all that, he did not even dare touch that person with a single finger. All his affection was stuffed down into his stomach. In the entire world—even the Emperor himself—who else could receive such treatment?
Yet that person happened to be a celestial immortal from the heavens.
Looking at him, it was obvious that he treated his master well, but he treated everyone the same way. He looked upon everyone with a compassionate heart.
He would always stand high above in the heavens, looking down upon all those below.
To someone ordinary like Jinbao, this person was naturally one of the very best people in the world. But toward his master, it was different.
His master insisted on falling for him—a person who stood high above, distant and unreachable.
How could a mortal dare to love an immortal?
Therefore, sometimes Jinbao rather pitied his audacious master.
But today was different.
Although his master had suffered a life-threatening injury and taken a trip through the gates of hell, Jinbao had seen that spotless, otherworldly immortal pulled down from his altar by his master.
There was no longer that layer of misty compassion in his eyes.
He had begun shedding tears for a mortal.
——
Jun Huailang sat beside the bed.
Afraid that he would be bored, Jinbao had even placed several books beside him.
But he could not read a single word. The books remained untouched, and whenever the tea beside him grew cold, someone would replace it, yet he did not even touch his lips to it.
He simply sat quietly beside Xue Yan’s bed.
Time passed so slowly, yet Jun Huailang was completely unaware of it. He only watched that sharply chiseled profile and quietly lost himself in thought.
The wick slowly burned, and before he knew it, it had left a long strand of ash in the lamp.
Just then, Jun Huailang heard a faint movement from the bed.
He hurriedly looked over and saw Xue Yan frown and let out a soft, uncomfortable groan.
Immediately afterward, he was about to turn over.
Jun Huailang quickly raised a hand and pressed down on his bare shoulder.
His palm met a mass of firm, vigorous muscle.
“Your Highness, you mustn’t turn over!” he said hurriedly.
He had not drunk any water for a long time, and his voice had already become hoarse beyond recognition, something even Jun Huailang himself had not noticed.
Xue Yan, who had been about to turn over, was pressed back down by him. He frowned, then opened his eyes.
“What did you call me again?” His voice was deep, still carrying a hint of weakness.
Jun Huailang’s eyes were red, and he could not help smiling.
“Xue Yan, you finally woke up!” he said, reaching for the teacup beside him.
“How are you? Does it hurt badly?” Just as Jun Huailang was about to get him some water to drink, he belatedly realized that his tea had long since gone completely cold.
Remembering Jinbao’s earlier instructions, he was about to stand up. “I’ll go get Jinbao to bring the medicine from the stove for you.”
The divine physician had said earlier that once Xue Yan woke up, he was to take the medicine according to the prescription, three times a day, without missing a single dose.
He had only taken two steps when Xue Yan spoke from the bed.
“Come back.”
Jun Huailang stopped and turned around.
He saw Xue Yan slightly prop himself up and raise his head to look at him.
He had always been handsome, possessing the deep, refined features unique to people from the Western Regions. At this moment, his black hair fell loose around him, his complexion was somewhat pale from his injuries, and his expression was languid. Those amber-colored eyes shone brilliantly beneath the lamplight, while his long eyelashes cast a shadow across his face.
With his movements, the contours of his shoulder and arm muscles became even more distinct, carrying smooth, fluid strength, like a languid leopard.
“Come here,” he said.
Jun Huailang walked back to the bedside as if bewitched by something.
Then Xue Yan raised his hand, took hold of his wrist, and tugged him down into a crouch so that they were looking at each other at eye level.
“Let me see. Are you hurt anywhere?” Xue Yan asked.
Jun Huailang shook his head.
Xue Yan looked him over from head to toe, and a smile appeared on his face.
“Good.”
He wore a smile, his voice hoarse and languid, filled with an innate sensuality.
For no reason at all, the tips of Jun Huailang’s ears grew warm.
“What time is it?” Xue Yan asked again.
Jun Huailang said, “There’s still an hour before dawn.”
Xue Yan hummed. “Have you eaten?”
Jun Huailang nodded again.
Xue Yan raised his eyes to look at him. Because he was lying facedown on the bed, his line of sight was lower than usual, and when he raised his eyes, even the ends of his brows lifted with them.
Those sharp, sword-like brows, under the dim yellow lamplight, unexpectedly took on a hazy, tender softness.
His gaze fell upon Jun Huailang’s cracked lips.
“You’re lying,” he said. “Where’s Jinbao? Have him prepare some food. I’ll watch you eat.”
Jun Huailang lowered his eyes somewhat bashfully.
“…I just don’t feel hungry.”
Xue Yan said, “Then I’m hungry. You’ll eat with me.”
Jun Huailang hummed and was about to get up.
Just then, Xue Yan raised a hand and pressed down on the back of his neck, pulling him back down.
His movement was somewhat awkward. At this moment, he almost seemed to have half-embraced Jun Huailang within the crook of his arm.
“…What is it now?” Jun Huailang asked somewhat stiffly.
Xue Yan stared at him and smiled. His eyes sparkled brilliantly, and a faint dimple appeared beside his lips.
“When did you put this on?”
His hand moved downward and gently picked up the wolf fang that Jun Huailang had forgotten to put away and which was now hanging from the front of his robe.
“It looks pretty good.”
Xue Yan’s voice was hoarse, saturated with laughter.