I Did Not Become Empress On Purpose - Chapter 7

After seeing Bai Yueying off, Bai Ruofeng felt a wave of dizziness and a throbbing discomfort in his head.

Perhaps it is just stuffy in here, he thought to himself. He called for someone to open the windows for ventilation and went to bed early to rest.

During the night, Bai Ruofeng felt an oppressive weight on his chest, a breathless sensation that neither rose nor fell, but stubbornly occupied his lungs and danced wildly in his throat.

He struggled to awaken. As he managed to half-sit up, the invitation scroll flashed before his eyes, accompanied by fragmented silhouettes and muffled, incessant murmurs. It felt as though a thick membrane separated him from the voices, which seemed to be shouting at him from a vast distance.

Bound within a spider web, unable to move or speak, he listened for a long time before finally deciphering what the voice was crying out: Second Brother!

Bai Ruofeng snapped his eyes open, realizing he was truly awake this time. His forehead was freezing, covered in a slick layer of cold sweat that trailed all the way down his drenched neck.

How could this be? He gasped for air. Despite being buried under heavy quilts, he felt freezing cold. His legs, usually devoid of strength, now throbbed with a numbing pain that was steadily creeping up to his upper body. The pain seemed to radiate from his very marrow, carrying a bone-chilling cold that caused his calves to tremble uncontrollably.

Gripping the quilt, Bai Ruofeng took deep, greedy breaths, curling in on himself to endure the pain. As the agony gradually subsided, he immediately tried to sit up, his mind solely focused on calling for help. However, his body was weak and limp, his head heavy and feet light; all his strength had been siphoned away, making merely sitting up an immense struggle.

In a daze, he heard himself calling out for Tang Yan. After a couple of weak shouts, his voice faded until he could not even hear himself. A moment later, a sudden flash of clarity hit him, and he realized the name on his lips was no longer Tang Yan, but Yueying.

Why on earth was he calling out for Bai Yueying? They were neither close nor familiar; was this body simply dreaming about what it thought of during the day?

Bai Ruofeng had only a brief moment to ponder. A thick, metallic stench of blood drifted to his nose. Lowering his gaze, he watched drop after drop of blood splatter onto the brocade quilt, the stark, bloody red jarring to the eyes.

He weakly wiped his thumb across his lips, feeling the sticky residue of blood on his fingertip.

Although he did not know what was happening to him or what he was about to face, alarm bells were ringing fiercely in his mind. Mustering the very last shreds of his consciousness, he fought to scream Tang Yan’s name, putting every ounce of effort into a shout that sounded like a roar of sheer fury.

Just before darkness swallowed him, he saw Tang Yan sprint frantically through the door and rush to his bedside.

When he opened his eyes again, the bed hangings he saw no longer belonged to the marquis estate. The surroundings were blindingly bright, filled with dazzling gold and jade.

Where was this? Bai Ruofeng took a moment to recover. Before he could even process his thoughts, a violent wave of nausea surged from his stomach. He leaned over the edge of the bed and instantly retched up a mouthful of black blood.

The taste of rust flooded his mouth, and even his breaths smelled of blood.

“Ruofeng! You are awake? Where does it hurt?”

A familiar voice reached his ears from nearby, and his blurry vision finally sharpened. Bai Ruofeng saw Fang Youcheng’s anxious face and the hand gently wiping the blood from the corner of his lips. Closing his eyes briefly, he reopened them with a touch more clarity. “My legs hurt, Brother Cheng, my legs hurt.”

“Divine Doctor, quickly, examine him!” Fang Youcheng practically shoved a man forward as he made room. Only then did Bai Ruofeng notice a middle-aged man holding fine needles, standing nearby alongside Tang Yan and other servants holding basins of warm water and towels.

Before Bai Ruofeng could say a second sentence, the world spun wildly, and he fainted once more.

He struggled, only catching a fleeting glimpse of Fang Youcheng catching his hand before passing out again.

This time, he fell into a long-forgotten dream. Faces of unfamiliar people flashed rapidly by, both intimate and entirely foreign. Bai Ruofeng vaguely saw Fang Youcheng, the two of them arguing fiercely before he himself stormed out and slammed the door.

He saw a young man, seemingly Duan Qingzhang, silently seeing him off from a long pavilion.

He also saw… he saw a slender back amidst a mountain of corpses and a sea of fire, wearing the uniform of a foot soldier, yet possessing the unmistakable frame of a woman.

The woman was carrying him on her back, her right hand using a spear as a crutch as she desperately crawled out of a mass grave, her left hand supporting his senseless legs. She kept calling his name, each word weeping blood: “Second Brother, do not sleep! Do not sleep, do not go to sleep. I beg you! Please do not close your eyes, just hold on a little longer, just a little longer, I am taking you home.”

The woman turned her head, her dirt-smeared face a blur. He strained his eyes, tried to get closer, yet could never make out her features.

The ringing in his ears grew louder and more chaotic until, reaching a crescendo, a deafening ding echoed everywhere. Everything in the dream rapidly reversed, crumbling into fine dust and scattering away. His mind went entirely blank, his senses drifting in a daze, unable to recall a single thing.

All that remained was his wildly racing heart, thump, thump, thump, each beat louder than the last, echoing like explosions in his ears as the dream dissolved into a sea of red.

The more he struggled to open his eyes, the heavier his eyelids felt. His mind, which had been murky for so long, finally cleared like parting storm clouds as his senses returned, bringing with them a growing lucidity. He heard voices conversing and recognized the speaker.

That voice seemed to know this body better than he did.

“His legs were injured during the winter of last year. Half a month ago, upon returning to the capital, he was ambushed; his carriage overturned, and he was caught in the rain, which led to a high fever. Although the fever eventually broke after he was brought back, he remained unconscious. The imperial physicians examined him at the time but could find no cause. Not only has he lost his memory, but his legs are completely paralyzed. Aside from his old injuries, no other ailments were found on his person…”

After constant effort, Bai Ruofeng finally managed to open his eyes. Even while his vision remained blurry, he reached out and tightly grasped the lapels of the person standing with their back to him.

He was absolutely certain the person in front of him was Fang Youcheng.

Fang Youcheng’s voice faltered, and he turned around. Seeing him awake, a wave of profound relief washed over him from the depths of his heart, and sheer joy erupted in his eyes. “You are awake?!”

“What happened to me?” As soon as Bai Ruofeng spoke, his voice was so hoarse he could not even hear his own words.

Yet Fang Youcheng seemed to understand, or perhaps he simply guessed. He gently helped him sit up and brought a cup of warm water to his lips.

“How do you feel now? Any better?” Fang Youcheng asked only after he had finished two cups of warm water.

“Much better, do not worry. But Brother Cheng,” Bai Ruofeng said, patting the back of Fang Youcheng’s hand to reassure him. Despite his pale face, he still managed a weak laugh. “Your dark circles are so heavy.”

If he could still joke, then the problem could not be too serious. Fang Youcheng let out a sigh of relief and could not help retorting, “Dark circles are far better than you collapsing without a word and scaring people to death!”

Bai Ruofeng did not reply, looking curiously at the haggard middle-aged man sitting by the bed. The uncle was shivering like a quail, his tall frame somehow managing to look pitiful, weak, and utterly helpless.

A glint of light flashed across the uncle’s neck, and Bai Ruofeng narrowed his eyes. Struggling to sit up straight, he finally saw that a sharpened longsword was pressed against the uncle’s throat, catching the sunlight from the window. Following the blade backward, he saw the person holding the sword was none other than Tang Yan.

Bai Ruofeng’s heart gave a violent lurch at the shocking sight. Having just woken up, he certainly had not expected to be greeted by such a thrilling scene.

“Who is he?” Bai Ruofeng turned to Fang Youcheng.

Fang Youcheng personally brought over a bowl of hot congee and set it on the table. Hearing the question, he replied without even looking up, “He is the Divine Doctor. I specifically sent people to invite him here to treat you.” Despite calling him a Divine Doctor, his tone carried not a shred of respect, as flat as if he were introducing some ordinary nobody.

“If you invited him, then why is there a blade pressed to his neck?”

Fang Youcheng frowned, finally casting a glance at the rigidly seated Divine Doctor. “If he cannot save you, then he is merely a fraud who has deceived the world. I would have no choice but to ensure he never wakes up to harm anyone else again.”

If it were not for Fang Youcheng, Bai Ruofeng would never have realized his own life was so valuable. He looked back and forth between Fang Youcheng and the Divine Doctor, feeling both deeply moved and completely terrified to make a single move, unable to speak for a long moment.

Because he had no strength in his legs, he was currently just propping himself up. Fang Youcheng helped shift him backward to lean against the headboard, allowing his tense back to finally relax.

“Brother Cheng, I am fine now,” Bai Ruofeng hurriedly urged. “Tang Yan, put the sword down quickly. Brother Cheng was just joking; do not actually hurt the Divine Doctor!”

Tang Yan obediently lowered the blade and stood aside.

With the blade removed from his neck, the Divine Doctor let out a massive sigh of relief, nervously wiping the cold sweat from his brow. It was called an invitation, but in reality, he had been kidnapped while picking herbs on a mountain, stuffed into a carriage, and rushed all the way here. Before he could even take in the glittering splendor of the imperial palace, a sword was at his throat.

At the time, Fang Youcheng, his back to the physician, had finished wiping the sweat from the comatose patient, risen from the bedside, and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The skepticism in his eyes upon seeing the doctor’s disheveled state was obvious. In their very first exchange, the man had delivered two heavily threatening sentences:

“You are the Divine Doctor?”

“Save him. If he dies, you will not live either.”

With the blood of dragons and the marrow of phoenixes, this man of supreme royal birth treated human life like mere grass, truly utterly ruthless.

No wonder his master used to drag him around wandering the four seas. This time, having disobeyed his master’s orders in an attempt to settle down, he was caught within a few days. The Divine Doctor thought bitterly to himself, uttering insincere words aloud: “I am fine, I am fine, this commoner is fine.”

He stood up and walked over to ask, “How does the young master feel now? Where does it hurt? What did you eat previously? What did you do? When did you start feeling unwell? Do you have any old ailments? Please detail everything so that this commoner can prescribe the correct remedy.”

As the Divine Doctor inquired, Bai Ruofeng was accepting the bowl of congee handed to him by Fang Youcheng. Looking down, he saw the faint reflection of his haggard face in the surface of the congee, indistinct but clear enough to show his head covered in fine silver needles, making him look exactly like a hedgehog.

A chill ran down his spine, instantly killing his appetite. He set the bowl aside and forced himself to focus elsewhere.

Hearing the questions, he glanced at the sky outside. It was already daytime. He tried hard to recall. “Last night, my younger sister and I had dinner. The dishes were all light and plain, nothing unusual. We chatted for a bit, and then I went straight to sleep.”

“In my drowsy state, I started experiencing chest tightness and nausea, followed by waking up from a nightmare covered in cold sweat. My legs were in agonizing pain, and after smelling a very thick scent of blood, I lost consciousness.”

The Divine Doctor examined his face. Bai Ruofeng watched the doctor’s expression, hoping to gauge the severity of his condition, but the weathered face revealed absolutely nothing.

The Divine Doctor then rolled up his sleeves and gestured for him to pull back the quilt. “Have you experienced these symptoms before?”

“No,” Bai Ruofeng obediently replied, cooperating fully with the physician. Pausing to think, he added, “Since I regained my memory, this is the first time I have fallen ill like this.”

Fang Youcheng had previously outlined Bai Ruofeng’s situation, and now the Divine Doctor simply gave an assenting hum while slowly pressing his hands along various spots on Bai Ruofeng’s calves. “Now, please tell me truthfully what you feel: is it lighter, heavier, painful, or completely numb? You must tell me everything.”

“Alright.”

After finishing the examination, the Divine Doctor looked deeply perplexed. “The imperial physicians told me your legs were crippled. Yet you clearly still have feeling!”

Before Bai Ruofeng could ask further questions, Fang Youcheng cut straight to the point: “Can it be cured?”

Startled by his intense gaze, the Divine Doctor jumped. “Yes! And the chances of success are very high.”

Hearing that the legs could be cured, Fang Youcheng’s trust in the doctor increased slightly. His tone softened as he pressed, “Then what is the cause of his amnesia?”

The designated time having passed, the Divine Doctor stood behind Bai Ruofeng, carefully removing the fine needles from his head. “As it stands, the leg injury might have been caused by previous trauma to the young master’s head. The head is crucial; it governs all the organs in the body. As for the amnesia, it can be severe or mild, but for the young master to have forgotten everything so completely is truly unheard of by this commoner.” He pondered, unable to offer a definitive answer. “Perhaps we will need to observe him further.”

Bai Ruofeng tried to describe his symptoms. “Every time I have a nightmare, I feel like I remember a lot of things, but when I wake up and try to recall them, I cannot remember the details.” He furrowed his brows tightly. “It is like there is a membrane blocking everything.”

“Do not worry.” The Divine Doctor walked over to the table, where Tang Yan quickly prepared paper and ink.

Picking up a brush, the Divine Doctor stared at the paper in deep, agonizing thought, looking as though his hair was turning white from stress. “From now on, you will need acupuncture once every two days. Furthermore, in conjunction with the prescription I will write, taken three times a day… Hmm, aside from the legs and the amnesia, the young master’s pulse is also extremely chaotic and his body frail; he requires careful recuperation.”

“You were feeling unwell?” Fang Youcheng, assuming the other had simply been forcing himself to endure earlier, furrowed his brows tighter. “Why did you not say anything? You have been bouncing around all day, I could not see a hint of discomfort, turns out you are just a paper tiger. If you do not see a doctor, do you expect the illness to cure itself?”

“Who was bouncing around?” Bai Ruofeng, realizing he was being misunderstood, chuckled. “I did not feel any discomfort anywhere, and besides, the imperial physicians did not diagnose anything previously. This incident truly came about suddenly and strangely.”

“Tch.” Recalling that bunch of useless quacks at the Imperial Academy of Medicine, Fang Youcheng’s face darkened. “Those useless fools.”

The Divine Doctor finished writing the prescription, blew the ink dry, rubbed his trembling hands together, and looked toward Fang Youcheng, attempting to interject into their conversation. “Umm… could we summon the imperial physicians so I can brief them on the details?” Only by handing things off could he make his escape.

His eager anticipation was plainly written on his face; how could Fang Youcheng fail to notice? But there was no way he would let the Divine Doctor go so easily. With a domineering tone, he ordered, “The imperial physicians here are useless. You will move into the marquis estate. You can leave once he is fully cured. Rest assured, once the deed is done, you will not lack for gold, silver, jewels, fertile lands, and fine mansions.”

With a master displaying such a temper, he would not want to work under him no matter how much silver was offered! Hearing this, the Divine Doctor nearly choked on his own breath and fainted. “No, no!”

“Hmm?” Fang Youcheng had not expected anyone to dare defy him, and cast a chilling, casual glance his way.

Swallowing his pride, the Divine Doctor offered an excuse, “My disciple is still young, I cannot leave him alone at the apothecary. Furthermore, I left in such a hurry that I have not settled my household affairs.”

Fang Youcheng turned to Tang Yan. “Did you hear that?”

Tang Yan replied, “Understood.”

Did this conversation mean they were agreeing to let him leave? The Divine Doctor’s brain, usually reserved solely for medical matters, had never turned so quickly in his life.

Yet the seemingly honest and simple-minded guard declared, “Whether it is the Divine Doctor’s disciple or his belongings, I will immediately dispatch men to uproot the Divine Doctor’s entire nest and move it to the marquis estate overnight, ensuring not a single blade of grass is left behind.”

This master and servant pair had hearts blacker than pitch! The Divine Doctor felt his vision go dark.