Still Secretly In Love With My Enemy Today - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: 

I didn’t take Xie Huaishuang straight back to Iron Cloud City. Following the agreement I made with Ye Jingwei, we were to stay near Hengzhou for a while.

Ye Jingwei is a person who treats herself exceptionally well, choosing only the most comfortable places to live; currently, she is staying in Hengzhou. I don’t usually admire her taste, but the scenery in Hengzhou is indeed beautiful. I lived here for two months while passing through years ago, and though the courtyard has been empty for a long time, it’s livable after a bit of dusting.

On the way, we encountered a few mechanical kites that seemed to be pursuing us, but the longest any of them held our tail was barely half a minute. At the time, Xie Huaishuang’s face was a bit pale. “Have you always… always flown at this speed?”

“Hmm?” I was busy turning the control wheel. “Is it too slow?”

“…”

When the Iron Vermillion Bird finally touched down, two days had passed.

It was mid-morning when we arrived in Hengzhou. Xie Huaishuang grabbed my wrist as he jumped down, looking around left and right with great curiosity.

He had only truly moved past the backlash period at dawn, and he hadn’t slept much during the night, as the pain kept recurring. He’s always been like this—never uttering a word of complaint when he’s uncomfortable, merely leaning his shoulder slightly against mine and clutching that string of tourmalines, counting the beads over and over again to pass the time.

Yet he clearly dislikes being left alone.

I waited for him to finish another cycle of counting, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and pulled his hand toward me to make small talk: “Have you finished counting? How many are there?”

Xie Huaishuang lowered his eyelids. It took a long time for him to speak, his voice barely a whisper: “Sixty… sixty-two.”

There were actually sixty-five. He tilted his head weakly and opened his palm, asking for confirmation. I tapped twice on his hand: “You didn’t miscount. It’s sixty-two.”

When the medicine finally took effect and he fell asleep, he was still clutching the beads. Upon waking in the morning, half-conscious, he instinctively started counting again—until he suddenly sat bolt upright.

“How is it sixty-two?” He turned his head, sensing my direction, and stared at me. “You lied to me again.”

Finally, that string of tourmalines he had squeezed all night was granted a reprieve and returned to his small pouch. We hadn’t brought much: aside from the “valuables” I insisted he carry, there were only two changes of clothes and his medicine, all packed in the crate on my back.

“Where to now?”

This place was on the eastern edge of Hengzhou, called Stargazer City. It wasn’t large, but it was always bustling. Right now, the city was drowning in the blooming of peach and plum trees, with clouds of pink and red pressing heavily over every wall. The landing spot for mechanical kites was a clearing outside the city; I led Xie Huaishuang to a street corner marked by a wooden sign and waited for the iron-clad bus.

“I have a place here,” I wrote slowly in his hand while we waited. “I’m taking you there now. But it hasn’t been lived in for a long time, so we need to buy some things. Come with me this afternoon, alright?”

The market here was much livelier than the one near Linlang Pavilion. Xie Huaishuang would definitely like it.

—In truth, I was curious too. I used to think such things were a waste of time, things I shouldn’t be doing.

Hearing this, he was indeed happy. His eyebrows shot up, and he blinked a few times. “What are we buying?”

I thought for a moment. “We’ll need new pillows and bedding… mm, and bowls and plates. We should stock up on food, too. There will be many people selling plants this season; if there are good ones, we’ll buy them all.”

Then I’d place them all in the courtyard so that no matter where Xie Huaishuang stood or sat, he could reach out and touch them.

Xie Huaishuang listened intently. When I ran out of things to list, I asked, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“What… should I say?”

“What kind do you want?” I wrote quickly. “What color, what patterns for the things I just mentioned? We’ll decide on food when we get there—you can taste everything and we’ll buy what you like.”

Xie Huaishuang remained silent, merely lifting his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering occasionally.

“What are you thinking about now?”

I saw his brow furrow briefly before relaxing into a smile. He shook his head. “It’s just… I’m not quite used to this. It feels like… being in a dream.”

The swaying shadows of flowers from across the wall fell over him, sunlight dripping down the tips of his hair.

How is it that he is only “used to” the bad parts of his past? The Temple didn’t treat him as a human, and neither did Linlang Pavilion. Why should he be expected to get used to those wind-driven blades and frost-covered swords? There is no justice in that.

Xie Huaishuang is a good person. What he should be used to is spring light, purple magnolias, steaming red bean cakes, and the softest pillows.

The iron rails began to creak and groan. Before the bus came to a halt at the station, I brushed the tiny fallen petals from his shoulder and told him: “From now on, only get used to the good things.”

Xie Huaishuang’s gaze shifted. He gave a very light nod. Who knows what he was thinking, but the hand that had been resting palm-up suddenly turned over, grasping my wrist and giving it a firm squeeze.

“The best thing.”

After saying that, he increased his grip slightly, staring at me without moving. His eyes were like clear spring water cradled in blooming magnolias.

I never quite understand what this man is talking about; half the time it sounds like gibberish to me. I was busy guiding him through the crowd to squeeze onto the bus, completely unaware of what color my face had turned amidst the steam suddenly venting from the vehicle.

…

Ye Jingwei arrived in the evening.

Xie Huaishuang was sitting nearby, cradling a small potted plant and studying it. Sensing movement, he looked up.

I set down the broom in my hand and smiled at her. “Physician Ye.”

Ye Jingwei, medicine chest on her back, immediately took a step back. “No… are you actually possessed?”

“…”

“I shall treat you with this level of politeness from now on,” I told her, maintaining my smile. “Get used to it.”

Ye Jingwei’s expression twisted slightly, as if she’d swallowed ten overly sweet candies at once. She set her chest down and glanced at Xie Huaishuang, saying word for word: “All because I cured your ‘enemy’?”

I nodded. Before I could speak, she pointed a finger at me. “Shut up, you.”

Xie Huaishuang, oblivious to the “violence” I was enduring, even offered Ye Jingwei a smile before setting the peony down.

“Physician Ye?”

Ye Jingwei’s expression softened slightly. She pulled over a chair, sat down, and stared at Xie Huaishuang for a moment before pressing her fingers to the right wrist he offered.

“You used the medicine from last time after all?”

“Yes.” I knelt down beside Xie Huaishuang, watching her hand on his wrist. “Thank you.”

Ye Jingwei’s gaze flickered toward me and back. She pressed her index finger down a bit firmer and gave a light chuckle, her tone ambiguous. “Birds of a feather, truly… Left hand.”

Are Xie Huaishuang and I “birds of a feather”?

His gaze was fixed on the peony he’d set aside, but thinking I wouldn’t notice, he let his focus drift half an inch to circle around my shoulder. I wondered what he was thinking.

Ye Jingwei was much faster this time. She withdrew her hand and began packing her things. “Satisfactory. It seems he’s been well cared for. It’s a bit late now, the hour isn’t right. I’ll come tomorrow morning to reconnect his meridians. Consider it a bit of time I’m leaving for you.”

“Leaving time for me?” I lowered Xie Huaishuang’s sleeve. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” Ye Jingwei stood up. “Reconnecting meridians isn’t like glueing something back together. He’ll need to sleep for a while—why that face? Not long, just half a month.”

“Half… half a month?”

“Yes.” Ye Jingwei nodded. “In meridian reconstruction, one must not have stray thoughts or disrupted breath. It’s quite painful, so it’s better to just let the patient sleep through it. That’s how my master did it. Let’s get this straight: I’m only responsible for the needles and the prescriptions. Feeding him medicine and regulating his breath every day—I’m not touching any of that.”

Xie Huaishuang couldn’t hear anything, so he just stood there quietly. I turned to ask Ye Jingwei: “Tomorrow morning… what time?”

“Quarter past the hour of the Dragon (7:15 AM).” Ye Jingwei swung her chest over her shoulder. “I’m off. Don’t forget my iron puppets. I need at least two before next month; I have a use for them.”

Her footsteps were light as she walked down the stone-paved street. Her blue silhouette vanished around the corner. I closed the courtyard gate and let Xie Huaishuang hold my wrist as usual, leading him back inside.

“What did Physician Ye say?”

“She praised you for being obedient this time, saying you’re recovering better than before.” I wrote in his hand. “She’s coming tomorrow morning to reconnect your meridians.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Xie Huaishuang was surprised, his eyes widening, but his expression was mostly filled with joy, his lashes fluttering.

Thinking that he would be able to hold a sword again made me happy too. Half a month—as Ye Jingwei said, it wasn’t that long.

Yes, I told myself again, it’s not that long. Just the moon rising and falling, and rising again a few times. Back at Iron Cloud City, I used to count many cycles of the moon just for a chance to see the Priest of the Temple. It’s only…

…But half a month still feels so long. Why am I thinking like this now?

“But you’ll… you’ll have to sleep for a while. For half a month,” I told him. “You’ll be fine after one long nap.”

“Half a month?”

“Half a month.” I couldn’t help it as I wrote; my right hand paused very lightly against the side of his face. “I threw the Temple’s people off our trail. This place is safe for now. I’ll be right here by your side; I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It was better for him to sleep through it. Waiting—especially waiting in a state of uncertainty—is a grueling thing. I would do the waiting for him.

Xie Huaishuang stared at me, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Then you’ll have to wait all by yourself for that long.”

So he also felt that half a month was a long time. See? It wasn’t just my problem.

“Have I not waited for you enough times already?” I slowly smoothed his brow flat again. “Once more won’t hurt—besides, why didn’t I see a hint of guilt in you back then when you were making me wait?”

Xie Huaishuang went silent, his eyes shifting elsewhere.

“How long will the peonies stay in bloom?”

As expected, he changes the subject when he feels guilty. I looked at the plant; the new leaves were just beginning to cradle the buds, so the flowering season was still far off. I told him: “These can bloom for a full month. When you wake up, they’ll still be at their best.”

Xie Huaishuang nodded and knelt back down to study the roses next to the peony.

I thought he had moved past the issue and was considering what to cook for dinner—silver ear soup or red bean porridge—when I suddenly heard him whisper:

“If I had known sooner… I would never have made you wait all that time.”

The broom I had just picked up slipped from my hand again, landing amidst the swaying shadows of the spring evening flowers.