Gazing at Zhuo Qing's hand resting upon Lou Xiyan's chest, Lou Xiwu could no longer tolerate such impropriety at a moment like this—Zhuo Qing audaciously touching her brother—and she nearly screamed, shouting, "What do you think you're doing, you ugly woman?! Let go at once!"
Ignoring Lou Xiwu's shrill protests, Zhuo Qing met Lou Xiyan's deep, penetrating eyes and murmured softly, "Lou Xiyan, relax. Breathe in time with me. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…"
Lou Xiyan furrowed his brow—what was she doing? The suffocating sensation in his chest seemed to ease slightly as he sat up. Watching her earnestly match his breath with forceful inhalations and exhalations, warmth blossomed within him, and he gradually loosened his grip. Yet, his hand never fully released hers.
Everyone stood dumbfounded, observing Zhuo Qing guiding Lou Xiyan's breathing. None had ever witnessed such a method of treatment before. Strangely enough, after several deep breaths following his sitting up, though Lou Xiyan still struggled to breathe, it no longer felt as though every breath drained his very life force.
After a few breaths, Zhuo Qing shot a cold glare at Yang Mu and hissed, "Keep tending to your treatment. Why are you watching me?"
Yang Mu finally snapped back to reality, stammering, "Oh, oh," as his subordinates hastened to resume acupuncture.
After a burning incense stick's time passed, through the combined efforts of the imperial physicians and Zhuo Qing, Lou Xiyan appeared somewhat improved. His breathing grew steadier, though his complexion remained pale.
Yang Mu withdrew the needles, wiping the fine beads of sweat from his brow with his sleeve, secretly exhaling in relief. It had been a perilous moment—fortunately, the young lady had employed a remarkable technique; otherwise, the consequences would have been dire.
"Master, the medicine has arrived." A medicine boy cautiously entered, carrying a bowl of pitch-black decoction.
Before the medicine reached the bedside, Zhuo Qing was already assailed by the pungent aroma of traditional herbs—thankfully, she had studied Western medicine, for this ghastly scent alone was enough to nauseate her. She tried to cover her nose but felt Lou Xiyan's grip tighten gently on her wrist. Looking up, his slender eyes gleamed faintly with coldness. She recalled he had collapsed earlier—did he despise traditional medicine as well? Or was there more to it?
Yang Mu accepted the medicine bowl and approached the bed. Mo Bai stepped forward with a cold tone: "Imperial Physician Yang, allow me."
Fearing any further mishap, Yang Mu hesitated whether to administer the medicine himself. Then a clear, serene voice with a faint smile rang out: "Imperial Physician, you've been exhausted all night. Perhaps you should rest nearby for a while. When the other imperial physicians arrive, you'll have plenty to attend to. Leave this matter to us for now."
Though considerate in tone, the words carried an irresistible authority. Yang Mu looked up to see the lady sitting composedly on the bed, utterly free of pretense, one hand tightly held by Lou Xiyan. No wonder she had been so confident—she had Lou Xiyan's unwavering support!
Suppressing his gaze, Yang Mu handed the medicine bowl to Mo Bai and bowed, "Very well. I shall take my leave then. Call me if you require anything."
"Very well." Zhuo Qing barely registered the title of "lady," nor did she notice the faint, knowing smile tugging at Lou Xiyan's lips.
"Brother." Lou Xiwu, kneeling lightly by the bed, bit her lip, striving to hold back tears that nevertheless spilled uncontrollably.
Gently raising his hand, Lou Xiyan tenderly wiped away the tears at her temple and softly said, "I'm fine. Xiwu, I have something to discuss with the young lady. You should step outside."
"Mm." After casting a glance at Zhuo Qing, Lou Xiwu said no more and obediently withdrew.
Mo Bai also retreated behind the screen, leaving only Lou Xiyan and Zhuo Qing seated face to face in the spacious inner chamber. Lou Xiyan's breath came and went unevenly, his tunic slightly open, revealing a well-built chest and faintly visible abdominal muscles. His dark hair was loosely tied back, strands hanging down.
Zhuo Qing admitted the sight was captivating, but was she being too forward staring so openly? Yet if she didn't look, would it wound his pride? She gazed unabashedly until their eyes met—those sly, slightly upturned eyes—and she cleared her throat awkwardly.
"You should speak little and rest more now. If anything arises, we can discuss it once you feel better."
"I want to ask you for a favor." Raising the arm still clasped by Lou Xiyan, Zhuo Qing replied briskly, "Speak, but can you please let me down first?"
Did she feel awkward too? Lou Xiyan smiled inwardly. He had never seen a woman watch a man so intently, so eagerly.
Finally releasing her hand, Lou Xiyan allowed Zhuo Qing to rise and jump off the bed. She promptly gathered a few pillows, placing them beneath his waist to help him recline.
Watching her busy at his side, Lou Xiyan's voice dropped low as he softly said, "I've been ill for years. The imperial physicians have tried countless treatments with no improvement. Your method just now seemed effective. I hope you'll stay by my side to care for me."
"That was merely emergency aid. I don't truly know how to treat you properly." She had studied Western medicine—cutting open corpses was no problem—but curing illness was not her specialty, especially without medical equipment.
"That's alright. Your help in my darkest moments is enough." His low sigh stirred an inexplicable discomfort in Zhuo Qing. He was more suited to be vigorous and spirited. Yet Lou Xiyan was truly strange—was he feigning illness? Impossible, given the episode just now. If he truly suffered, why resist medicine? There had to be some hidden secret, but she cared little to uncover it; her focus was on finding Gu Yun.
Having made up her mind, Zhuo Qing ceased dwelling on Lou Xiyan's motives and replied calmly, "Fine, I'll stay, but I want to see my sister within a month."
"Agreed." That was but a small matter to him.
"Then it seems we have an accord." Taking the medicine left by Mo Bai, Zhuo Qing did not approach Lou Xiyan but went to the window, regretfully saying, "Ah, the medicine's cold now. Its potency will diminish. Better wait for the imperial physicians to prepare a fresh dose."
Without hesitation, she poured the entire concoction into a potted plant by the window.
With her back to him, she leisurely tended the plant. Lou Xiyan's gaze deepened, realizing she was far smarter than he had anticipated.
Setting down the pot, Zhuo Qing prepared to leave when outside the room, Jing Sa's cold, aloof voice suddenly announced, "Master, His Majesty has arrived."
The emperor was here?
Lou Xiyan whispered, "Mo Bai."
Mo Bai entered the chamber, and after a few whispered words, Lou Xiyan sprang up, seizing Zhuo Qing's hand to lead her out. Puzzled, she wondered what was happening. What did the emperor's arrival have to do with her? Why were they so tense? Was she a liability?
They had barely reached the screen when the sounds of greetings erupted outside.
"Long live the Emperor! Long live! Long live forever!"
Clearly, the emperor was just beyond the courtyard. Mo Bai had no choice but to escort her back inside. Zhuo Qing rolled her eyes. The house was vast, yet nowhere to hide!
"No need to greet the emperor!" A brusque, commanding male voice echoed as the door was thrown open. Simultaneously, the previously bright candles inside were gently extinguished by Mo Bai's flick of the sleeve, leaving only a single faint light burning.
Mo Bai pressed Zhuo Qing against the screen before she could react, placing a tray in her hands. Quick, urgent footsteps sounded nearby.
She looked up to see a tall figure swiftly approaching—his back to her, face unseen. He wore a dark gray long robe embroidered with golden dragons and auspicious clouds at the cuffs, understated yet resplendently luxurious, exuding an aura of commanding nobility.