Still Secretly In Love With My Enemy Today - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: 

Chunhua was indeed efficient. By early the next morning, she had managed to transcribe a register and sent it over secretly.

Names, ages, and every other scrap of information she could find. Since Xie Huaishuang couldn’t see, I began transcribing it again slowly into his palm. I was on the thirty-second name when I heard a sharp tap at the window.

Ye Jingwei was perched outside on the sill, a mechanical messenger bird resting on her shoulder. She wore her medicine chest on her back and looked utterly expressionless. “Is it a good time for me to come in, or should I wait?”

Normally, every time she visits Iron Cloud City, the two of us end up in a shouting match until Senior Sister Chen has to pull us apart by the collars. But today, I needed a favor. I could manage to act civilized.

I pressed Xie Huaishuang’s wrist to signal him to wait, stood up, and very politely invited her in.

“Acting so much like a human… you… are you possessed by something?” Ye Jingwei looked me up and down with a look of genuine horror. “Whatever it is, please don’t let it leave your body, okay?”

“…”

I reminded myself three times—I need her help, I need her help, I need her help—and stepped aside. “Take a look at him.”

Ye Jingwei didn’t dally when it came to professional matters. She sat down and opened her medicine chest. As she rummaged through her supplies, she asked casually, “Who is this to you?”

I was in the middle of explaining to Xie Huaishuang who had arrived. I answered instinctively: “An enemy.”

“…”

Ye Jingwei looked up, her hands freezing mid-motion. “Just to confirm: do you want me to cure him, or poison him?”

“Cure him, obviously! If I wanted him poisoned, why would I call you?” I watched her warily. “Don’t you dare play around. Treat him properly.”

Ye Jingwei spread out her needle pouch and glanced at me with a bizarre smile. “An enemy. Heh. An enemy.”

I’ve said it before: Ye Jingwei is one of the most inexplicably strange people under heaven.

Perhaps because of the contrast with Ye Jingwei, when I looked back at Xie Huaishuang, he seemed much easier on the eyes—of course, it might also be because his new clothes suited him so well.

He wore a pale green robe. Unlike his previous outfits, this one lacked those complicated decorations and cumbersome long sleeves; it was sharp and clean. He looked like a stalk of fresh bamboo, currently trying to orient himself toward Ye Jingwei’s position.

—It was a pity he couldn’t see right now, otherwise, he would definitely be interested in her medicine chest. It was the work of Senior Sister Chen, full of ingenious mechanical locks that even I hadn’t fully mastered.

“Hand over.”

Ye Jingwei placed a pulse cushion down and tilted her chin toward me. Her gaze lingered on Xie Huaishuang’s face for a heartbeat before shifting away, her fingertips landing on his right wrist.

Xie Huaishuang remained as calm and unruffled as ever. I, however, grew increasingly tense as I watched Ye Jingwei’s brow furrow. I sat beside them, not daring to move, even holding my breath.

After pressing his right wrist for an unknown amount of time, Ye Jingwei spoke again, her expression darkening. “The other one.”

She switched to his left hand. I gently lowered his right sleeve, and as my hand passed over his, I couldn’t help but pause. Xie Huaishuang lowered his gaze; his fingers curled slightly, tapping a few times against my palm, and he gave a very slight shake of his head.

I felt like I would be holding my breath until the moment Ye Jingwei spoke again.

After another long wait, she finally withdrew her hand. She didn’t speak immediately, instead sinking into deep thought, occasionally asking a few questions before returning to her silence. I couldn’t take the suspense anymore. “Can you treat him?”

Ye Jingwei’s brow knit and relaxed, then knit again. She rubbed her chin and tapped the table, staring at Xie Huaishuang fixedly. Only when I was about to stand up for the third time—and was pulled back by Xie Huaishuang grabbing my sleeve—did she speak: “I can.”

I’ve also said it before: Ye Jingwei is a rare, wonderful person.

“Can you truly cure everything? His martial arts, his sight, his hearing—can they all be restored?”

Ye Jingwei didn’t take her eyes off Xie Huaishuang. “In his condition… I can treat him, but I can’t guarantee to what extent. How much he recovers depends on him. But if it’s him…” She pondered for a moment. “I think at least sixty percent is possible.”

Sixty percent—fine, sixty percent is still good. At least he’ll be able to see, hear, and pick up a sword. As for the rest, the world is vast; across thousands of miles, I can surely find other ways to bring back everything he lost.

I wrote her words into Xie Huaishuang’s hand. His eyes widened slightly, blinking in surprise, sparkling in the sunlight.

—When will he finally be able to see me and hear me?

“How long will it take?”

“Reconnecting the meridians won’t take long.” Ye Jingwei propped her chin in her hand. “But the recovery of sight and hearing must wait until I’ve cleared the poison. No more than two months, though the exact timing is hard to say. By the way, he’ll have to endure some hardship during this period. Some people can’t take it, but he should be fine. Just keep a close eye on him.”

I tensed up again. “What kind of hardship?”

“The poison in him is called Crane-Stop (He Ting). It’s aggressive. I must use potent medicine, and using it inevitably causes suffering. Other side effects are secondary.” She looked at me and waved a hand. “But you needn’t be so nervous. What’s unbearable for a normal person is likely nothing to him. After all, he even practiced something like Rebel Sovereign (Cuo Jun Chen)…”

“Rebel Sovereign?” Not a single word she said made sense to me.

“I didn’t recognize it at first when I saw him, but you mean to tell me you didn’t know?” Ye Jingwei looked shocked. “It’s a mental cultivation technique that allows one’s meridians to function normally for a short burst of time. The catch is that it’s agonizing to practice, and once the effect wears off, the backlash is severe. It’s rare; most people couldn’t even attempt it.”

I suddenly remembered his previous loss of control—the blurring consciousness, the drenching cold sweat.

—No wonder his meridians were clearly destroyed when I checked them on the first night, yet within a few days, he had regained twenty percent of his former power.

But why—why would he practice something that caused him so much pain?

I instinctively looked at Xie Huaishuang. He sat there properly, eyes lowered, waiting for me to translate Ye Jingwei’s words. He was idly fiddling with the jade tassel hanging from his waist, smoothing the threads, his toes tapping against each other.

“Like right now, he likely practiced it again a few days ago. He’s probably still in the backlash phase,” Ye Jingwei noted. “But he appears normal, which is why I said the pain from the medicine won’t bother him… Wait, what are you doing?”

“You—” Ye Jingwei recoiled suddenly. “What are you crying for?”

“I’m not… I’m not.” I pointed to the copper lamp nearby. “Smoke got in my eyes.”

“The… the backlash. Can you do anything for it now?”

Ye Jingwei shook her head with a frown. “I can’t. Don’t expect me to fix everything. The only way is for him to practice it less—ideally, never again. Fine, fine, whatever. I’ll leave you some Fin-Luo Pills; they’ll ease the discomfort slightly.” She immediately added, “In exchange for two self-walking clocks. The kind that chime the hour.”

“Deal.”

“So agreeable today?” Ye Jingwei rubbed her chin. “Twelve iron puppets plus the clocks… that’s enough to keep you busy for half a year.”

I shook my head and asked, “When do we start the treatment?”

“I’ll send the medicine tomorrow.” Ye Jingwei thought for a moment. “First, we replenish his depleted energy and stabilize the poison. In half a month, I’ll return to reconnect his meridians. We’ll handle the detoxification after that.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a small porcelain vial and pushed it across the table. “Take one every six hours for the next two days. It’ll make things a bit easier for him. We can reduce the dose gradually after that.”

Apart from the “Rebel Sovereign” part, I wrote down every word Ye Jingwei said into Xie Huaishuang’s hand. He nodded, then touched the tip of his nose, whispering, “Is that all? Did she… did she say anything else?”

He knew exactly what he had done. Did he think that by looking at me like that, I wouldn’t hold it against him?

I wanted to interrogate him, but the moment I raised my finger, he habitually opened his right hand and spread his palm across my knee. I stared at him for a long while, but in the end, I only squeezed his hand and held it.

—I really will [repay him later].

Ye Jingwei didn’t waste another second. Having given her instructions, she packed her things to leave. As she stood up, she glanced back at me. I thought she had more medical advice, but I only heard her laugh again.

“An enemy. Heh. An enemy.”

…

As soon as Ye Jingwei left, Xie Huaishuang tugged on my sleeve, wanting me to continue with the register.

I was busy examining the Fin-Luo pills she left behind. I poured one out; it was a deep red and smelled intensely bitter.

“What is that?” Xie Huaishuang had clearly smelled it too and leaned closer.

I looked at him, silently chanting speak calmly, speak calmly, speak calmly. I set the vial down and pulled his hand toward me.

“She said this will make you feel a bit better.” I saw his expression grow strained. I paused, then continued writing: “Rebel Sovereign, was it?”

Xie Huaishuang stiffened visibly, his fingertips curling.

“She’s an expert; you couldn’t hide it from her. Why did you practice that?”

He was back to his old ways, pressing his lips together and saying nothing. I didn’t intend to push him too hard—practicing that technique was punishment enough. If I pressured him further, what kind of person would I be?

I let him think in peace. I checked the temperature of the tea and touched the cup to his lips to signal him to drink. He snapped back to his senses, recoiling almost by instinct.

He froze, then sat back rather stiffly, shaking his head. He reached out to take the cup. “It’s not… I’m just used to it.”

Used to—used to what?

Xie Huaishuang held the cup, his eyelashes trembling. He whispered: “Before… people would often force wine down my throat. I’d choke… I just didn’t react in time just now.”

After saying that, he took the bitter pill and swallowed it with a tilt of his head. His brow furrowed slightly and then quickly relaxed.

I placed a piece of Liao-Flower candy in his hand. He blinked in confusion, but as he crunched on it, his eyebrows lifted slightly. For the first time, I felt that my habit of carrying candy was a good one—I used to find it embarrassing and only carried it in secret.

But that was the only good thing. Everything else was terrible. Rebel Sovereign was bad, Crane-Stop was bad, the forced wine was bad—it was all bad.

Xie Huaishuang chewed the candy seriously for a long time. Suddenly, he looked up and smiled at me.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t that painful.” He said softly, “My heart is clear; therefore, these things don’t count for much.”

Heart is clear—how can one maintain such clarity and transparency between the inner and outer self?

Ye Jingwei said the Fin-Luo pills would cause drowsiness. As soon as he took it, I pressed him back onto the bed. Leaning against a soft pillow, he sat across from me, his back as straight as ever, his long hair falling smoothly.

“Then why practice Rebel Sovereign? To destroy Linlang Pavilion?”

Xie Huaishuang was silent for a moment, then nodded, then shook his head.

“At first, yes… but later, not entirely.” His eyelashes lifted, those deep green eyes unfocused but staring at me earnestly. “You’ve done so much for me… I didn’t want your efforts to be in vain. I wanted to duel you—as you said, a fair and square duel. This was the only way I could think of.”

I was stunned.

I had considered the Linlang Pavilion factor, but I truly hadn’t expected this reason. To… to fulfill my wish?

Outside the window, the spring breeze brushed against the curtains and bead strings, swirling the light gauze like mist. My heart felt both light and heavy as I stared blankly at Xie Huaishuang—a quiet little statue of a deity in the spring light.

“It wasn’t just for Linlang Pavilion. You are also… very important to me. Very important.” He continued, “I did it willingly.”

I didn’t know what to say. I only looked at him for a long time. What could I say?

The Fin-Luo pills were surprisingly fast-acting. Before I could think of a response, Xie Huaishuang was already leaning against the pillow, his eyes gradually closing, his breathing shallow.

Following an instinct that came from nowhere, I took his hand and slowly pressed it against the side of my face.

What could I possibly say?