Chapter 55

The night was deep and heavy, with moonlight spilling across the ground. Outside the window, there was not a single sound.

Pei Muchi grew accustomed to the dim light within the tent. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw Qingwu standing beside the bed.

The brow that had remained tightly furrowed even through unconsciousness relaxed slightly. His weak breathing finally found a steady rhythm, and his chest began to rise and fall.

He pressed his lips together, offered her a reassuring smile, and reached out to pull her toward him.

Just as his hand emerged from the edge of the brocade quilt, Qingwu struck fiercely.

"Clack."

Her palm came down without a moment's hesitation, producing a crisp sound.

The noisy commotion within the tent instantly dropped to a pin-drop silence. The generals stood as if struck by a paralyzing curse, their eyes darting everywhere, refusing to look toward the bed.

After half a minute of quiet, eager to dispel the awkward atmosphere, they forcefully picked up their previous topic and began chatting stiffly.

Gu Hanjiang’s mouth was half-open, the response he had just choked on abruptly cut off, leaving him uncertain whether he should speak or not.

After a moment of thought, he decided it was not his place to answer Qingwu regarding the former emperor.

"Well, since Pei Yuanxi has woken up, it's no longer my place to meddle. I'll let him explain it to you."

The stray hairs at Pei Muchi's temples and forehead were soaked with cold sweat, plastered against the side of his neck, with pale dark circles remaining beneath his eyes.

An attendant soldier brought in a basin of water and a damp cloth from outside. Gu Hanjiang wrung out the wet towel, but then decided it would be inappropriate for him to tend to him. A flash of inspiration struck, and he shoved the cloth directly into Qingwu's hands.

"The poison in his system hasn't fully fused yet. If you refuse to let your divine doctor friend examine him, then him vomiting blood is quite normal. However, the other wound opened up because he exerted too much force and ruptured the stitches on his chest. In any case, you were the one who stabbed him, so you might as well take care of him."

Pei Muchi's appearance was excessively frail, resembling scattered flowers lying desolate on the ground after a night of torrential rain.

Gu Hanjiang had never seen him look so thoroughly and intrinsically desolate. His facial features tightened in a wince as he silently questioned An Qi.

Was this the very method this man had used to trick such a gorgeous young woman into his hands?

An Qi instinctively shook his head.

In the past, it was always the princess who took the initiative. Even when the master was reluctant, the princess had never lost heart.

Yet, after turning the thought over in his mind, he nodded, validating Gu Hanjiang's intuition.

His master always knew what the princess liked and would put on such an act to lure her in. For a moment, even he could not tell who was truly leading whom.

Pei Muchi propped himself up slightly, leaning half against the bedside.

Qingwu used the cloth to cup his chin, catching the bead of sweat sliding down his cheek.

A dark, brilliant spark instantly flashed across her eyes. She tossed the towel back into the water basin, and with lightning-quick reflexes, turned to grab the men's jade hairpin resting on the bedhead.

Before the ripples in the basin had even settled, she gripped the head of the hairpin and thrust it straight toward the center of the man's chest.

Seeing her movement, Pei Muchi lay lazily where he was, without even blinking, wearing the doting expression of someone entirely at her mercy.

Xizhi flashed out from the shadows, blocking her wrist.

Deprived of her internal energy, both her speed and strength were severely diminished, leaving her naturally with no room to resist.

With the first strike failing, she simply gave up.

"What is this nonsense again!" Gu Hanjiang was dumbfounded. "If you're dead set on doing this, at least stab the other side so both wounds can heal together—that would be much more convenient."

He rattled on with sarcastic remarks, while Pei Muchi, completely unbothered, curled his thin, cold lips and spoke in an extremely hoarse voice, "Very well. Consider it repayment to you."

Gu Hanjiang truly had no way of handling these two, and told Xizhi to summon An Qi back inside to tend to him.

He knew this young woman had been a princess who had never lifted a finger in her life; she certainly wouldn't know how to perform servant's work.

An Qi walked in and stood off to the side, whereupon Pei Muchi waved a hand. "All of you, out."

***

The restless generals had long wished to leave. Hearing this, they all cupped their fists and withdrew, save for Gu Hanjiang, who remained by the bedside. "Will you even be able to manage in this state?"

Just looking at the delicate beauty sitting on his bed—her dark brown pupils reflecting a merciless chill—she might well plunge another dagger into him at any moment.

The red mark where he had pressed her wrist against the pool's edge still lingered. His slender, distinct fingertips touched the spot, feeling the delicate and cool texture beneath his pads.

He rubbed it slowly, helping to disperse the bruised skin, while saying to Gu Hanjiang, "Go and prepare for the return to the capital. We break camp within an hour and return at full speed."

"I am not going back to the capital with you!" Qingwu threw a tantrum.

Pei Muchi's brows knitted once more, and he asked, "Then where are you going?"

He had anticipated this reaction, but he had plenty of ways to drag her back.

"Back to Peach Blossom Village, or down south to see the mountains and rivers—anywhere but back with you!" Qingwu declared decisively.

She was a former emperor's princess; having finally managed to attain the carefree days she had longed for, why would she return to those four-square palace walls? She had endured enough of them long ago.

"Peach Blossom Village? It seems Her Highness has still not given up on Du Jin."

Pei Muchi zeroed in on the words. Recalling the bustling wedding banquet in the village, his gaze involuntarily turned cold, though his tone softened as if compromising, "Wherever Your Highness wishes to go, we must first pass through Quzhou City. You might as well come with me."

With that, he cast a meaningful, lingering glance toward An Qi.

Gu Hanjiang observed his look and cast a contemptuous gaze at the master and servant.

Using such a "despicable" method against a young woman devoid of the strength to truss a chicken was truly devoid of virtue. He would never approve of it.

An Qi walked on tiptoe to the incense burner, replaced the current spice with a new one, lit it, and then carefully secured the lid of the censer.

His movements were so slight that almost no one noticed what he had stealthily done.

Qingwu intended to leave as well, but having nowhere else to go, she could only retreat as far as the sand table outside the tent and sit down there.

Shifting from a gentle press to a firm grip, Pei Muchi pulled her back, exerting just enough force that his cool, slender joints pressed small, rash-like marks into her skin.

Qingwu struggled fiercely. Pei Muchi's voice was deep: "I have no strength right now. If Your Highness wishes to leave, I cannot stop you."

His bloodless thin lips parted and closed, but Qingwu didn't care about any of that; she stood up, ready to depart.

"Be a good girl, Your Highness, and I will treat Du Jin a little better."

His tone was flat, not sounding like a joke at all.

Qingwu's departing figure stiffened.

Seeing Qingwu actually return to the bedside because of those words, Pei Muchi felt a dense, stabbing pain in his heart. It was only through his formidable willpower that he suppressed the taste of blood rising in his throat, feigning indifference while a mocking glint was deeply hidden at the bottom of his eyes.

Qingwu braced her hands against the edge of the bed, mere arm's reach away from him, yet the clenched fists he kept in the brocade quilt refused to relax. They remained tightly clenched in aching frustration, allowing the piercing, dull pain to spread through his entire body.

Just as he reached out a hand, on the verge of holding hers, Qingwu leaned back slightly and hurled the jade hairpin she had been clutching as if acting out of temper.

The hairpin struck the edge of the tent frame, bounced once, and fell to the ground, snapping cleanly into two neat pieces.

At the moment he brought up Du Jin, even Pei Muchi himself felt somewhat bewildered, unsure of his purpose in saying those words.

Yet, seeing Qingwu's complexion grow slightly cold without a trace of anger—replaced instead by a deeper calm, her pupils rippling with layers where only his reflection was mirrored, betraying no clear emotion—Pei Muchi's gaze flashed with panic. He propped up the nanmu pillow and massaged the mark he had pinched onto her wrist with his palm.

"I didn't mean it that way."

Qingwu neither fought him off nor paid him any heed, deliberately giving him the cold shoulder.

Pei Muchi leaned forward slightly, an elusive, crisp scent of bamboo overcoming the heavy medicinal smell that filled the room, flooding all of Qingwu's senses.

Another beauty trap.

Qingwu turned her head away, unconsciously revealing a stretch of jade-white neck.

***

Pei Muchi pressed his nose against her earlobe, rubbing against her with a hint of ingratiating persistence.

Draped in an exceptionally sheer lounging robe, his long, ink-black hair cascaded down his back, with strands tangling into his partially unfastened collar.

His pitch-black eyes shimmered with moisture. By any measure, he cut a fragile, pitiful figure, devoid of any lingering dominance.

"Is Your Highness ignoring me?" His complexion remained poor, and just as he was about to slide down along her powdered neck, a sudden surge of blood rushed up, and he began to cough violently.

Pei Muchi quickly distanced himself from Qingwu, casually hooking the handkerchief from her waist to cover his thin lips.

Specks of blood like red plum blossoms fell upon the corner of the cloth. Unbothered, he curled it within his palm and placed it by the pillow with a composed expression.

With his lips stained crimson, his skin was set off to look as white and flawless as jade.

It was Qingwu who, upon seeing the fresh blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, asked, "Didn't the military physician say nothing would happen in the short term? Why are you vomiting blood again?"

Pei Muchi began to cough violently once more. By the time he finally managed to suppress it, he looked on the verge of collapse.

He lowered his gaze to conceal the overflowing tenderness within, his voice sounding genuinely aggrieved.

"You deliberately brought up your affairs with Du Jin to anger me."

His tone was lingering, carrying a distinct trace of grievance within his words.

When Qingwu looked up again, the distance between them had been closed once more. His dark eyes were limpid, his thin lips pressed together, and his gaze slowly drifted down from the corner of her eye to settle upon her lips.

Qingwu used the back of her hand to block his line of sight and scooted a few inches outward.

"Your Highness spent months roaming freely with Du Jin, and have grown so terribly indifferent." Pei Muchi lingered at her side, pressing close to her.

Qingwu's tone was icy. "You were the one who brought up Lingyu's name in the first place; why blame it on me?"

"Because Your Highness would humble yourself and endure for Du Jin's sake."

Qingwu felt helpless, yet the aching numbness in her hand seemed genuinely eased by his massage; the moment he stopped, the pain returned.

The ache in her wrist and the dizziness in her head converged into one, and her voice carried a clear warning: "Stop tangling yourself in nonsense."

Was she forbidding him to speak further?

Pei Muchi froze. He truly retreated slightly, leaning against the bedpost, and wiped away the residual blood from the corner of his mouth with a look of mild distaste before extending both hands toward her.

"Then Your Highness, hold me."

He lowered his brow as though pleading.

Qingwu stared at him coldly, as if waiting to see what other tricks he had up his sleeve.

A tightness gripped Pei Muchi's chest. Feigning composure, he propped himself up to embrace her, intending to pull her entire body into his arms and crush her deep into his flesh and bone.

Yet the strength in his arms as they landed around her had dwindled to a negligible fraction, merely wrapping lightly around her waist.

From a distance, it would have appeared as though he were resting his entire upper-body weight upon Qingwu.

"Aren't you sleepy?" Qingwu noticed his spirits were low, as though he were forcing himself just to speak with her.

Oddly enough, her own head was spinning as well, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

Looking at his pale complexion and the faint traces of blood on his lounging robe, she had no wish to bicker with him over such childish matters, intending only to wait until he recovered somewhat to question him about the events beneath the city wall that day.

Yet the things before her eyes seemed shrouded in a layer of mist. No matter how hard she blinked, she could no longer see clearly through the haze.

Pei Muchi tied the sash of his inner robe, pulled her into his embrace, and began stroking the cascade of loose hair flowing down her back, soothing her just as one might lull a young child to sleep.

Qingwu finally closed her eyes, resting obediently and quietly against his chest.