Rebirth on the Day She Was Poisoned by an Aphrodisiac - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Illness

Once the engagement was finalized, the “Six Rites” began, and the Pei Manor became a whirlwind of activity. The Empress Dowager sent experienced nannies from the palace to oversee the arrangements, while Pei Chen only concerned herself with the details of the betrothal gifts.

The middle of May brought several heavy rainstorms, and Pei Chen’s frail health finally gave way. She contracted a severe cold that spiraled into a high fever lasting three days, leaving her unconscious.

The imperial physicians changed her prescription twice, but to no avail. Everyone watched helplessly as the weight Pei Chen had painstakingly gained over the past month vanished; her cheeks grew gaunt and hollow.

The small courtyard was in total chaos. Lady Chen visited several times, making a grand display of praying to Buddha and sending medicine, playing the role of a devoted mother to perfection.

After five days of fever, Pei Chen drifted awake. Seeing her anxious maids, she struggled to sit up, but as soon as she moved, her vision went black and she collapsed back into unconsciousness.

When she finally woke again, it was the middle of the night. The sound of rain pitter-pattered against the window. She opened her eyes to see someone with dark circles under their eyes sitting by her bed. Startled, she stared, but Liyang only offered a faint smile. “You’re awake. Do you feel any discomfort?”

Pei Chen was profoundly dizzy. Her throat felt parched, her breath was weak, and her entire body was so cold she felt the literal calling of death.

Before she could speak, Liyang reached out to touch her forehead. “The fever is still high.”

Pei Chen couldn’t find her voice. she opened her eyes and closed them again, hearing Liyang’s voice like a distant melody: “Don’t fall asleep. Pei Chen… Pei Chen… Pei Chen.”

Liyang called her name three times, her voice filled with unprecedented gentleness. Having cared for children before, she didn’t panic in the face of Pei Chen’s condition. She gently roused her and signaled Bailu to bring the medicine.

In her haze, Pei Chen felt a bone-chilling cold, as if she were encased in ice. No matter where she touched, there was only frost.

She managed to part her lips, feebly whispering, “Cold…”

Liyang stiffened. She touched Pei Chen’s hands—they were shockingly cold—while her head was burning hot. For the first time, Liyang felt a surge of genuine panic. She instinctively grabbed Pei Chen’s wrist and whispered into her ear: “Drink this medicine, and you won’t be cold anymore.”

She ordered the maids to bring a hand-warmer, but she herself did not let go of Pei Chen’s hand.

The Will to Live

Pei Chen struggled to open her eyes, following the sound of that voice. Liyang was smiling at her. She was beautiful and gentle, and Pei Chen moved her lips, wanting to speak but failing. Her hand-warmer arrived, but Liyang’s hand moved past the bandage on her wrist to her forearm, her palm pressing against the skin, rubbing it gently to create warmth.

Slowly, Pei Chen felt a warm current flowing into her. Liyang helped her sit up.

“Drink the medicine. We are about to be married; you have to come and fetch me, Pei Chen.”

“Pei Chen, my wedding dress is being embroidered, and yours is too. The Empress Dowager is very concerned.”

“You cannot let the Empress Dowager down. She cares for you, she dotes on you—you cannot break her heart.”

“I see you as my other half. I want to live a good life with you. You cannot break my heart either.”

The soft, whispered words made the room feel incredibly warm and intimate. Bailu brought the soup to Pei Chen’s dry lips, pleading through tears: “Please take a sip, just one sip…”

Pei Chen shivered against Liyang. Liyang held her arm firmly, murmuring: “Pei Chen, if you die, I will die too. If you love me, you shouldn’t let me die.”

Hearing this, a surge of urgency rose in Pei Chen’s chest. The rain outside grew louder, sounding like a drumbeat against her heart. Her eyes locked onto Liyang’s profile—elegant, pure, and refined. This was the “white moonlight” of her soul.

Suddenly, joy filled her heart. The Princess is alive. She is a living, breathing soul.

Pei Chen smiled. She opened her mouth and took the medicine. Liyang let out a long breath of relief. After the first swallow, Bailu quickly offered another spoonful. Pei Chen drank seven or eight mouthfuls before her eyelids fluttered shut.

Liyang held her, gesturing for the medicine to be taken away. Pei Chen was so thin that her bones felt prominent against Liyang’s embrace. Liyang laid her down, then, in a moment of impulse, lay down beside her.

Liyang was young and her body was naturally warm, perhaps even a bit sweaty from the tension of the night. As Pei Chen pressed against her, the shivering finally stopped.

As they lay together, Liyang studied Pei Chen’s face. In truth, Pei Xi looked quite a bit like Pei Chen—the same brows, the same stubbornness. Having spent a month with her, Liyang realized Pei Chen’s personality was also remarkably similar to Pei Xi’s.

She closed her eyes and felt the phantom presence of Pei Xi. Suddenly, she reached out and pulled Pei Chen into a tight embrace.

Pei Chen’s eyes opened. “Your Highness?”

With another person in the bed, the temperature had risen sharply. Pei Chen felt the heat and stared dazed at the person inches away. Pale and weak, she drifted between wakefulness and dreams, feeling only that she was finally warm. Pressed against that softness, she felt comfortable for the first time in days.

She was too tired to ask why Liyang was in her bed. Every breath she took was filled with Liyang’s fragrance. She drifted back into a deep sleep.

Life and Death as One

When she woke again, the room was bathed in brilliant sunlight. Baishuang wept with joy and ran to fetch the Princess.

Liyang arrived quickly. “Drink the medicine first, then some porridge.”

Having nearly lost her, Liyang was still shaken. Pei Chen only smiled. “To be remembered by Your Highness makes me feel so happy.”

Liyang was amused. “Your happiness is truly simple.”

“How did Your Highness come to be here?” Pei Chen asked.

“Bailu came to my manor seeking a better doctor. That was how I learned you had been burning with fever for days. I am sorry I wasn’t here to care for you sooner,” Liyang said guiltily.

Liyang took the bowl from Bailu and fed her personally. “The Empress Dowager was so frightened by your illness that she wanted to move the wedding date forward to ‘ward off the bad luck,’ but the Empress wouldn’t allow it. They had a huge fight. Once you’re better, you must go to the palace to comfort the Dowager.”

“I know,” Pei Chen said quietly, watching her. Hearing Liyang talk about domestic matters like this made her heart feel incredibly full. This woman was finally hers.

“I find your manor a bit strange,” Liyang said, her gaze turning serious. “Come to the Princess’s manor to recover. I have already spoken with the Empress—since we are engaged, it won’t be considered scandalous.”

“Did Your Highness find something… ‘unclean’?” Pei Chen reacted quickly. “No matter, I will handle it. Going to your manor would invite gossip, especially from the Second Princess.”

Liyang didn’t press further. Instead, she helped Pei Chen change her bandages, ensuring the wound on her wrist wouldn’t scar. “Don’t hurt yourself again,” she whispered.

The room fell silent. As Liyang rose to leave, she said: “Since you are unwilling to leave, I shall temporarily move in here. You and I are now one in life and death.”

Pei Chen froze as Liyang walked away.

One in life and death. Sharing honor and disgrace.

Pei Chen’s face turned bright red, though she was still too weak to move. She knew she had to recover. Since she was the “medicine” for the Princess, she had to live well. She was Liyang’s only cure.

The Closed Door

As the fever finally broke, the doctor sighed in relief. When Liyang returned from her official duties later that day, she made a point to visit the Buddhist hall. Unfortunately, Lady Gu refused to see her. Even after hearing that Pei Chen had nearly died from the fever, the mother did not appear.

Liyang stood outside the hall for a long time, but she was not allowed in.

She returned to find Pei Chen propped up against a pillow reading the Records of the Grand Historian. The book detailed the founding of the Great Zhou, a time when female officials were common. Today, female representation in the court was much lower, though the Princesses themselves were still a force to be reckoned with.

Liyang sat on a stool brought by a maid and ate a piece of fruit. Pei Chen watched her quietly.

“I just went to the Buddhist hall,” Liyang said.

“I’m not sad. My mother has given me all she should,” Pei Chen replied, understanding Liyang’s intent. “One day, I will uncover the secrets of the past.”

Liyang smiled. “Of course. I will help you.”

Pei Chen looked at Liyang’s profile. The Liyang of seventeen years in the future was majestic and intimidating, a woman of power. The Liyang before her now was young and tender, yet she already possessed that same innate authority and aura of purity—like snow on a mountain peak or the moon in the sky.

Except for her youth, her spirit was identical—especially that slight, indifferent curl of her lips. Pei Chen found it fascinating; even before enduring the hardships of the future, the Princess already possessed this high-born elegance that made it impossible to look away.

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