After Rescuing The Sickly White Moonlight - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

As night fell, the lamp in the temporary small pharmacy flickered. Zheng Zhili stood to the side, watching nervously as Zheng Qingyun sat submerged up to his neck in a large wooden tub.

Lin Yu, drenched in sweat from the rising steam, asked softly, “Qingyun, how do you feel?”

With his eyes closed and brows slightly furrowed, Zheng Qingyun murmured, “I’m alright… it’s just that the smell of the medicine is a bit heavy.”

Lin Yu breathed a sigh of relief. “As long as you’re okay. Is the water getting cold? Court Physician Chen said to soak in hot water for half an hour. Second Brother, why don’t you go get some rest first?”

Zheng Zhili shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll feel more at ease watching over him here.”

Zheng Qingyun felt the warm water flowing over his body. Gradually, his limbs warmed, but a strange sensation stirred in his chest—as if something were wriggling beneath his skin. He reached out to touch the spot, but felt only smooth skin; his senses seemed to be deceiving him.

His head grew heavier as the mist swirled. His lower body felt as though it were being roasted over a fire, while his upper body felt trapped in the depths of a freezing winter.

Noticing something was wrong, Lin Yu quickly grabbed his hand in the water, asking anxiously, “Qingyun? What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?”

Zheng Zhili rushed to the edge of the tub, his face pale with worry. In his panic, he completely forgot the Court Physician’s warning: the first attempt at detoxification would be agonizing, potentially leading to vomiting blood, but it would improve with subsequent treatments.

Zheng Qingyun forced his eyes open. He couldn’t quite make out the face of the person leaning over him, but he could feel the raw concern radiating from him. He turned his head slightly toward Zheng Zhili and managed a weak smile to reassure them, but a metallic tang filled his throat. A mouthful of blood sprayed out, blooming in the water like a brilliant, tragic Red Spider Lily.

Zheng Zhili moved to lift him out of the water, but Lin Yu—suddenly remembering the instructions—stopped him and urged him to fetch the silver needles.

Lin Yu’s hands shook as he poured the medicinal wine over the needles. His heart hammered against his ribs, and he accidentally spilled wine across the floor. He carefully set the needles down, then raised his hands and—slap, slap—delivered two sharp blows to his own face.

Zheng Zhili jumped. “Xiao Yu! Don’t panic! Don’t be so hard on yourself!”

Lin Yu, now sporting ten red finger marks on his cheeks, took a deep breath. His hands stilled, and his heart found its rhythm. He said calmly, “Don’t worry, Second Brother. I know what I’m doing.”

Heh, he thought, this body… it’s about time it learned who its master is.

Following the techniques Physician Chen had taught him, he inserted several needles into specific acupoints on Zheng Qingyun’s body, steadying the youth’s frame. “Second Brother, it only needs to stay for the duration of one incense stick.”

Zheng Zhili quickly lit a stick of incense and set it nearby.

In his delirium, Zheng Qingyun felt as though two spirits were battling in his mind—one of ice and one of fire. Had Lin Yu known, he surely would have joked that Qingyun was playing a real-life game of Fireboy and Watergirl.

The jade pendant Lin Yu had given him hung on a nearby rack, its verdant hue glowing under the lamplight. Zheng Qingyun didn’t know why he was thinking of it now, but he remembered his last birthday. He had received many gifts: from his parents, his grandmother, his uncles, the Crown Prince, and his brothers. He had been so curious about Lin Yu’s gift, but Lin Yu had worn a mysterious expression all day, refusing to say a word.

It wasn’t until just before bed that Lin Yu handed him a box containing a green jade pendant with a tassel shaped like auspicious clouds. He remembered Lin Yu taking it out and carefully fastening it to his belt. Under the moonlight, that soft green glow had filled his heart with warmth.

But when he heard it was a memento from Lin Yu’s late parents, he had tried to take it off in a panic. Lin Yu, however, had tied a dead knot that Zheng Qingyun couldn’t undo even until his fingers turned red.

Lin Yu had pressed his hands down and said, “Uncle Zheng gave me a second life. Qingyun, you are also a person I cherish deeply. I am sure my mother would be happy to see you like this pendant.”

Back in the present, a thin sweat broke out on Zheng Qingyun’s forehead. Lin Yu, leaning close, heard him murmuring something and moved in to listen.

Zheng Qingyun seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps asking Lin Yu: “Why am I someone you cherish?”

Lin Yu froze. Zheng Zhili didn’t notice; he was busy moving more water.

Lin Yu felt a wave of bittersweet emotion. He shifted and gently rested his chin on the top of Zheng Qingyun’s head, the youth’s sweat dampening his skin. He whispered softly, “No one can compare to you, Qingyun. You are worth it.”

He didn’t know if Zheng Qingyun heard him; he suspected not, as the youth’s brow remained tight, and he let out a suppressed moan of pain. Seeing the incense had burned out, Lin Yu carefully removed the needles, wiped them clean, and put them away.

Looking at Zheng Qingyun’s pained, crumpled face—usually so fair and clean—Lin Yu sighed. He reached into the water and took Zheng Qingyun’s hand. Before he could even close his grip, the other boy latched onto him tightly, like a drowning man grasping a piece of driftwood.

Beneath the surface, their fingers interlaced. Lin Yu felt a moment of stunned silence.

Zheng Zhili watched from the side, feeling slightly helpless. To him, these two seemed to share a single soul, surrounded by an invisible barrier that no one else could penetrate.

“Should I add more water?” Zheng Zhili asked.

Lin Yu tested the temperature and nodded. “Yes, add a little.”

Half an hour later, Lin Yu carefully helped Zheng Qingyun out, wiped him dry with a fresh cloth, and helped him into his clothes. Zheng Zhili used a towel to wring the water from his hair. Once it stopped dripping, they tucked him into bed. Although it was spring, the nights were still chilly, and because of Qingyun’s condition, a small charcoal brazier burned in the room.

Zheng Qingyun, exhausted after being moved about, finally lay in bed with a weary face. Zheng Zhili had already departed. Lin Yu poured a cup of water and let it cool. Seeing him sit by the bed, Zheng Qingyun reached out to touch Lin Yu’s hand resting on the edge.

Lin Yu looked down and clasped their hands together. Zheng Qingyun’s sleepy voice drifted up: “Brother Xiao Yu, I’m thirsty.”

Lin Yu helped him sit up and held the cup to his lips. After drinking his fill, Zheng Qingyun slid back under the covers, squinted comfortably, and patted the empty space beside him.

“Rest quickly, Brother Xiao Yu.”

Rest? My foot.

That was the inner monologue of Liang Yi’an.

Earlier that morning, his mother, the Empress, had called him to the palace and dropped a metaphorical bombshell that was still echoing in his mind.

“Do you like that Zheng boy?” her voice rang in his ears.

How had he answered? “Mother, I don’t know.”

The Empress had looked at him with tearful eyes. Her son—the current Prince and future Emperor—destined to be a wise ruler, how could he love a man? Though he might be confused about his feelings, she, as a veteran of the heart, could see exactly how he felt.

She had held him and wept silently before saying, “In ten days, at the Hundred Flowers Banquet, let Mother look for a wife for you, alright? If you like her, you… you live well with her. If you don’t, we will look for other girls. My child… don’t make your future path too difficult for yourself…”

Liang Yi’an had waited a long time before replying, “Alright.”

Did he like Zheng Yanzhang? He had never thought about it from that perspective. He didn’t even know if he liked men or women. His parents had kept him away from such distractions to ensure his focus; his chambers were devoid of pretty maids, and even those of a similar age were rare. While he occasionally discussed such matters with others, it was as if he hadn’t “awakened” yet; he simply had no interest.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Maybe after some time, it will be better.

While Zheng Qingyun was undergoing his medicinal baths and waiting for his brother, Zheng Yanzhang was facing some troubles of his own.

He sighed, looking helplessly at the strange boy who was stubbornly refusing to budge from the front of his carriage.

The boy had been found fainted by the roadside. Yanzhang, out of the goodness of his heart, had given him food and intended to leave once he woke up. Instead, the boy had woken up, seen Yanzhang, and refused to leave.

Yanzhang tried to reason with him. “Young Master, I truly have urgent business. I am going home, and it is inappropriate for me to bring a stranger along.”

The boy snorted. “My name is A’chengyu. Now we aren’t strangers, right?”

Yanzhang felt a headache coming on. “Fine. Then what do you want?”

A’chengyu scrambled up, letting go of the carriage wheel. “I want to follow you! I have no parents, and I would have died if you hadn’t saved me. Since you’ve done a good deed, finish it! I can even be your servant.”

Yanzhang’s headache worsened. “Little brother, if you are a free citizen, you absolutely cannot be my servant. Besides, I don’t have a habit of picking up people from the road. If you have nowhere to go, I will find you a place to earn a living. How about that?”

A’chengyu shook his head. “No. I like you, so I’m following you. I don’t know anything about being a ‘free citizen’ or not, I’m just sticking with you. Please, take me with you!” He even started rolling around on the ground.

A scholar meeting a soldier—logic is useless, Yanzhang thought. He couldn’t do it; his upbringing wouldn’t let him leave a dying person behind. He eventually relented and let the boy onto the carriage.

A’chengyu’s light brown eyes sparkled. He took the inch and climbed right into the carriage where Yanzhang was sitting. Looking at the boy as he peered around, Yanzhang realized he didn’t look like he was from the Rong Kingdom.

“You aren’t from Rong,” Yanzhang noted.

A’chengyu nodded. “My father was, but my mother wasn’t. I got separated from them and wandered here.”

“How old are you?”

A’chengyu thought for a moment. “Sixteen, maybe? I don’t remember clearly.” He looked at Yanzhang. “What about you? I don’t even know your name.”

“My surname is Zheng, and my name is Zheng Yanzhang. I am traveling south to see my brothers.”

“Oh,” A’chengyu replied. He grabbed Yanzhang’s cup and downed the tea. “So you’re Zheng Heng’s son.”

Yanzhang’s gaze sharpened. “You know my father?”

A’chengyu smirked. “Who hasn’t heard of the exam fraud case? But you’re quite impressive, catching the culprit so fast and becoming the Top Scholar. Does this mean I’ve found myself a powerful backer?”

Yanzhang composed himself and emphasized, “I told you, you don’t need to be my servant. If you have your household registration, I can find you a future.”

“Tch,” A’chengyu muttered. “Stuffy.”

“One more insult and I’m throwing you off,” Yanzhang said calmly.

A’chengyu was instantly as quiet as a mouse.