Knock knock.
A low rapping sound came from outside the door.
“The medicine is ready,” Luo Shiyi said from the doorway. “Young Master Jiang, I’m coming in.”
The wooden door swung open and hazy morning light spilled into the dim room. He entered holding a bowl of herbal broth, seeing the young girl sitting by the bedside, her cheek resting in her palm. Her lowered gaze was obscured by the long hair covering her cheeks, concealing her expression. Her long eyelashes were beautifully curved, seeming to hide a trace of sadness.
Slanting sunlight fell upon the two people, and motes of dust danced in the beams, evoking a sense of tranquil golden sands and seas.
Jiang Kui had tidied up the blankets on the bed again, folding over the corners to cover half of Zhu Zi’an’s body. She had also taken out his hair tie so he could sleep more comfortably. Disheveled strands slid from his shoulders, draping over her elbow. He was sleeping deeply, his breathing steady, some color restored to his previously pale complexion, no longer looking so wan.
“Young Miss Jiang, will you feed him the medicine?” Luo Shiyi asked.
“You go ahead,” Jiang Kui replied. “I’m not good at feeding people medicine.”
“Then, Young Miss Jiang, please help prop him up.”
Jiang Kui got to her feet and sat at the edge of the bed, reaching out both hands to support Zhu Zi’an by the shoulders and slowly pushing him up to sit. His head drooped down as she lightly pressed one hand to his chest so he tilted back slightly, leaning against her body. Her other hand gently cradled his head, strands of his hair slipping between her fingers.
She felt as if she was handling a fragile porcelain doll, afraid he might shatter if she wasn’t careful.
Luo Shiyi pulled over a chair to sit by the bedside and silently fed spoonfuls of medicine into Zhu Zi’an’s mouth. Even deep asleep he drank obediently and calmly, seeming exceptionally well-behaved. After each spoonful he would promptly swallow it down, the familiarity making it mildly astonishing.
However, after each mouthful, his brow would crease tighter and tighter, until they were completely knit together. On the face that had remained tranquil the entire journey passed out in the carriage, a trace of anguish now surfaced.
“Is he in a lot of pain?” Jiang Kui asked worriedly.
“It’s fine, he’s always like this,” Luo Shiyi replied softly. “The medicine is very bitter, he doesn’t like taking it.”
Jiang Kui was startled, remembering that day in the burial grounds when Zhu Zi’an had fed her a medicinal pill coated in a layer of sugar.
So he likes sweets?
After being fed the medicine, Luo Shiyi got up to take away the medicine bowl while Jiang Kui supported Zhu Zi’an to lie back down. He let out a few light coughs in his sleep, his body shuddering violently, but he suppressed the rasping coughs to barely audible catches in his throat. It seemed like unconscious behavior.
“Foolish Zhu Zi’an,” Jiang Kui murmured. “If you’re uncomfortable, just cough it out. I’m not afraid of you making noise…usually you love pestering me so much, don’t you?”
She felt rather worried and raised a hand, wanting to check his pulse. But then she remembered when they were in the carriage and he had unconsciously muttered “Don’t touch me.”
He was sleeping so soundly, yet even in dreams didn’t want her making contact.
So her half-raised hand froze in midair before slowly retracting. She gazed at his peaceful slumbering countenance, the bright daylight spilling across his face. She watched as his tightly creased brows gradually relaxed and smoothed out.
He sank back into deep, heavy slumber.
After a long while, she finally gave up on taking his pulse, only lightly poking her fingertip into his palm.
It seemed he noticed her touch in his dreams and abruptly clasped that finger.
As sunlight poured down like drifting snowflakes she quietly closed her eyes. Amidst the tranquil and silent room she smelled the white plum fragrance on him, light and piercingly cold, like frosted blooms crystallized atop the winter branches.
Another rap sounded from outside the door.
“Young Miss Jiang, I’m coming in,” Luo Shiyi’s voice called out.
“Thank you for accompanying him, Young Miss Jiang,” he said respectfully to Jiang Kui as he entered from outside. “The young master has taken his medicine, I will bring him back to rest now. No need to see me out.”
“Alright.” Jiang Kui opened her eyes.
She extracted her finger inch by inch from Zhu Zi’an’s palm.
In fact he hadn’t even grasped it tightly but it took her a very long time to slowly slip it free.
After Luo Shiyi left supporting Zhu Zi’an, it was a while before Jiang Kui slowly stepped out from the room. Her mind was chaotic with turbulent, restless emotions churning about.
Rong’er walked over looking concerned as she asked “How is Young Master Zhe doing?”
Jiang Kui shook her head. “Still unconscious but his complexion seems a little better now–” She suddenly jerked her head up. “How do you know his surname?”
Rong’er hesitated briefly. “I recognize him… we all call him Young Master Zhe, but didn’t know he is Master Pengliu.”
So her stunned reaction upon seeing Zhu Zi’an wasn’t because he was so young, but rather she recognized his face yet didn’t know of his identity in the jianghu.
“You all… call him Young Master Zhe?”
“The people here–” Rong’er started to reply before stopping herself. “Nevermind, you can ask him to explain it himself after he wakes.”
“Alright.” Jiang Kui said softly.
She bent down and picked up the broken spear from the doorway, gathering the two pieces into her arms. She took a roll of white hemp cloth and wrapped it carefully, tying the bundle onto her back.
The white hemp cloth she had previously used to wrap the spear, along with Zhu Zi’an’s mask, were left behind under Tonghua Gate. She didn’t dare go back to retrieve them, in case she ran into the figure in black robes again – she wasn’t confident she could escape a second time.
In hindsight, the information Zhu Zi’an had received was rather suspicious…as if someone had deliberately leaked the meeting location to lure them into investigating.
They were looking for the other side, while the other side was also looking for them.
Jiang Kui really wanted to discuss this with someone, but Zhu Zi’an was no longer by her side.
When would she see him again?
Jiang Kui borrowed a bamboo hat to obscure her features. She bid farewell to Granny Rong and Doctor Shen before stepping out of the small courtyard.
The noisy din from outside came pouring in like boiling water. Carriage wheels, footsteps, shouts and calls, the ringing of blacksmith hammers – the lively sounds gathered and swelled in Changlegang, rising and falling in waves.
The aromatic scent of freshly-made sesame cakes mingled with the heat from the blacksmiths, wafting all the way to Jiang Kui’s nose. Her mood lightened considerably.
The plain-clothed maiden slipped silently through the small alleys. The hustle and bustle here obscured her silhouette.
Ten years ago, Changlegang was not what it was today.
In Chang’an City, the northwest section was considered noble while the southeast was seen as lowly.
The Imperial Palace stood in the north, with the Imperial City to its south. Surrounding these were the manors and estates of prominent officials and nobles.
Further out in concentric circles, to the northwest were the residences of wealthy families, while the common folk lived in the southeast.
Located in the southeast of Chang’an City, Changlegang used to be the most filthy and destitute den of vice.
In this corner of the jianghu within Chang’an City, there had been two beggar gangs, known as the Southern and Northern Beggars. The group that had chased Jiang Kui below the Eastern Tower last time was the Northern Beggars, whose territory covered the relatively more prosperous north. Another force was called the Southern Beggars, who were constantly active in the impoverished and chaotic south.
Ten years ago, Changlegang stood at the intersection between the Northern and Southern Beggars’ spheres of influence. Gang conflicts and turf wars happened constantly, with people often left dead in the streets and blood spattering the roads. In those days, just passing through Changlegang without paying attention could result in losing one’s head.
Back then, Jiang Kui had still been a little girl, following her master through the jianghu and arriving at this lair of night ghosts.
Using a single long spear, her master had fought fiercely in Changlegang for three days, massacring the violent thugs and killing all evildoers, before finally establishing one rule here: no more bloodshed or killing would be allowed in Changlegang.
Ten years on, her master’s might still held sway. Changlegang had become a haven for all walks of life, while the Northern and Southern Beggars gave this place a wide berth, leaving behind a peaceful sanctuary.
Jiang Kui was no longer that tiny girl who could barely lift a spear, having also killed before. After her master’s retirement, she had been safeguarding this little township. The Northern Beggars chasing her last time was mainly because she had snatched territory from them and incorporated it into Changlegang.
Thus Changlegang was like a second home to Jiang Kui. Her days here were more akin to real life.
She kept up the sickly facade at the General’s estate during the day, but donned her green robes and bamboo hat to roam the jianghu and defeat all challengers by night. Come morning when the drums sounded through the streets, she would return amidst the mundane world of mortals.
Over the past decade, she had passed through the steaming vapors countless times, occasionally buying a pastry or begging a swig of wine, listening to neighborhood chatter and the rhythmic clanging from the blacksmiths.
Today, Granny Rong had said the locals here knew Zhu Zi’an and addressed him as Young Master Zhu.
Did Zhu Zi’an come to Changlegang often too?
If he came here frequently, why had she never seen him before?
With a splash, Xie Wuyan opened his eyes.
Curls of white mist unfurled upwards. He found himself awake in a pool of hot water, temporarily unsure of the hour or even year.
The incense brazier smoked with sandalwood, its scent mingling with that of the medicinal herbs in the pool to assail his nose. He felt as if he had woken from an extremely long dream, one where a subtle fragrance had clung to him while cool strands of hair had tickled his eyelids, and he had gripped someone’s hand tightly.
That person was the one he had yearned for, for so many years. Only in dreams did he dare reach out.
“How long have I slept?” Xie Wuyan asked softly.
Behind a bamboo screen knelt a youth in white robes. Head bowed, hands resting respectfully on his knees, a low wooden table stood by his side bearing a pot of tea and ceramic cup.
“Not too long this time, less than half a day,” Luo Shi’yi answered. “Master Bu yang has already been, he helped regulate your breathing and is currently waiting for you in the main hall.”
“When did I fall asleep?” Xie Wuyan asked again.
“Around the second watch I believe.”
“What happened?”
“After leaving Tonghua Gate, Young Master Jiang escorted me in bringing you to Changlegang and meeting with Doctor Shen. Doctor Shen needled you and gave me a fierce scolding before going to decoct medicine for you. Young Master Jiang accompanied you for a while without saying much before leaving. ”
“She didn’t…”
“She didn’t notice anything amiss,” Luo Shi’yi supplied. “Don’t worry, Your Highness.”
“That’s good then.” Xie Wuyan gave a few low coughs.
“Your Highness, please don’t do this again in the future,” Luo Shi’yi said as he kept his head lowered. “Doctor Shen was furious today. When Master Bu yang found out, he was also very angry.”
Silence reigned from behind the screen for a long while after this admonishment. Only the sounds of gently lapping water could be heard as clouds of steam billowed out continuously from the medicinal pool.
Luo Shi’yi waited for a long time, but there was still no response. Growing anxious, he suddenly raised his voice, “Your Highness!”
Xie Wuyan blearily heard the call through his stupor and managed to crack his eyelids open a sliver.
“It’s nothing,” he tiredly replied. “I just…want to sleep a little longer.”
The room grew quiet again. Surrounded by the smells of herbs and sandalwood, he soon slipped back into fuzzy dreams. Someone held his hand gently, not letting go for the longest time.
That person called out to him softly, “Foolish An’an…”
Author’s Ramblings:
Little Xie’s alter ego is close to being completely exposed! (Why does this guy even have a double identity…)
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