Chapter 30
JIANG SUIZHOU SPENT MUCH of the carriage ride back to the residence stone-faced and obviously displeased.
He hadn’t expected Chen Ti to be so desperate to suck up to the emperor and Pang Shao that he’d stoop to such shameless tactics.
Inviting Huo Wujiu to view some flowers was just a pretext; his real goal was to make up for the show of disgrace the emperor had suffered at their hands during the banquet. Truly, he’d do anything to ingratiate himself with the emperor.
After all, Chen Ti had always been one of Pang Shao’s followers. He wasn’t a high-ranking minister, so he rarely had the opportunity to stand out in front of the emperor. Jiang Suizhou rejecting his invitation had inadvertently given Chen Ti the perfect opportunity to delight the emperor.
Sure enough, the emperor agreed without hesitation, giving Jiang Suizhou no chance to refuse. He even promoted Chen Ti on the spot, granting him a lucrative position.
Everyone at the banquet rejoiced, except for Jiang Suizhou, whose previously feigned icy fury had turned much more genuine.
By the time the palace banquet ended, the rain outside poured relentlessly. Powerful winds surged about the carriage, the brocade curtains flapping noisily and allowing a few droplets to seep through and find their way inside.
In just a short while, half of Jiang Suizhou’s shoulder was soaked, but he seemed oblivious, his cold gaze fixed on the window.
Although this palace banquet hadn’t been a trap per se, these people were eager to make him and Huo Wujiu their entertainment for the evening. While it had been impossible to avoid becoming a spectacle, let alone evade all the hidden arrows, being manipulated by such an obsequious sycophant left Jiang Suizhou feeling profoundly bitter.
Most importantly…what about Huo Wujiu?
He no longer needed to fear incurring Huo Wujiu’s wrath, but he’d grown accustomed to being conscientious toward him. This matter had nothing to do with him, really, but Jiang Suizhou still felt irritable and restless.
A cold gust of wind streamed in, causing him to shiver.
His throat itched, a cough forming inside his lungs.
Just then, something soft and heavy was draped over him. The warmth of another person’s body carried within instantly enveloped him.
Startled, he looked up to see Huo Wujiu sitting silently beside him. He was no longer wearing his cloak.
“You…” Jiang Suizhou trailed off.
He began to remove the cloak so he could return it to Huo Wujiu, who was now a bit too lightly dressed for the weather.
However, he was immediately interrupted.
“You just recovered from your illness,” Huo Wujiu said.
“Huh?”
Jiang Suizhou clutched awkwardly at the cloak. Huo Wujiu turned his head a little to look at him properly.
“Keep it on,” he said.
Jiang Suizhou nodded and pulled the cloak tighter around himself.
Before his transmigration, he’d been strong and healthy for over twenty years, so he often forgot how sickly he had now become. Surprisingly, Huo Wujiu seemed to remember it better than he did.
Huo Wujiu watched as Jiang Suizhou obediently snuggled into his cloak. Then he reached over and tucked the edges in neatly before turning back, satisfied.
Jiang Suizhou looked at him.
Something didn’t look right about his complexion. His lips had been pale when they arrived, and now they looked even more ashen.
“…Aren’t you cold?” Jiang Suizhou ventured.
Huo Wujiu scoffed lightly and glanced at him askance. “You call this weather cold?”
This was nothing compared to winter in Yangguan, where the snow would fall so heavily throughout the night that it would pile up and block the entrances to their tents. They had to dig and kick their way through just to get out.
His subtle sideways glance and arched eyebrow revealed a rarely shown youthful, almost playful side to him. It was similar to the air he’d put on in the hall earlier, but without the aggression. It definitely retained a hint of the same pride, though.
Jiang Suizhou couldn’t help but chuckle softly and ensconce himself further within the cloak about him.
“Fine. As long as you’re not cold,” he said.
When Huo Wuijiu saw Jiang Suizhou smile, his gaze faltered. He quickly looked away, but not without glancing back a couple more times.
In the dim light of the carriage, Jiang Suizhou didn’t see that the robe draped over Huo Wujiu’s legs was already soaked through from the rain. The moisture seeped into his wounds, sending a sharp, stabbing pain deep into bone, so intense that he couldn’t stop his legs from trembling.
But the movement of the carriage concealed this too.
It was better that Jiang Suizhou failed to notice these things.
Taking off the cloak and wrapping it around Huo Wujiu’s legs might have eased the pain, but he couldn’t bring himself to let that frail rabbit shiver in the cold. Pain was something Huo Wujiu knew how to endure. However, if the Prince of Jing fell ill again and developed a fever, he’d suffer quite a bit. Moreover, he’d likely have to take more of that bitter medicine he so loathed. He might even cry about it a little.
In any case, Huo Wujiu had managed to draw a charming smile from Jiang Suizhou just now. That made it worthwhile.
✦ ✦ ✦
Jiang Suizhou slept lightly that night.
After returning to his room, changing his clothes, and lying down, he remained preoccupied with the day’s events. As he pondered, the sound of the heavy rain outside lulled him into a tenuous and hazy sleep.
He was awakened by the sound of something small falling to the ground.
Beyond the bed curtains, the dim glow of a night lamp was periodically overpowered by flashes of lightning outside the window. When Jiang Suizhou looked toward the window, he saw a tall silhouette struggling to sit up from the bed, apparently straining to pick something up.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Suizhou asked groggily.
Huo Wujiu didn’t respond.
Jiang Suizhou hurriedly got out of bed, slipped into his shoes, and walked over to the daybed.
By the time he reached him, Huo Wujiu finally seemed to notice that Jiang Suizhou was awake. Huo Wujiu’s brows were tightly furrowed as he looked up at him.
“Did I wake you?” Huo Wujiu asked, his voice low and hoarse.
A thin layer of sweat coated his forehead, dampening the hair at his temples. His complexion was pallid enough to set off alarm bells in Jiang Suizhou’s mind.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Suizhou repeated, now with more concern.
Huo Wujiu raised a trembling hand to rub his temple. He seemed almost dazed from pain.
Jiang Suizhou had never seen him in such a state—not even when he’d been newly released from prison, covered with infected wounds and burning with fever.
“Where does it hurt? I’ll have Meng Qianshan call a doctor!”
Huo Wujiu shook his head.
“It’s nothing, just the rain. Makes my legs ache a bit.”
He seemed unaware of how wretched he looked at that moment. Despite his misery, he was still trying to tough it out.
“My medicine fell to the floor,” he added. “Just help me pick it up.”
At the mention of medicine, Jiang Suizhou leaped into action. He bent to retrieve a small bottle that had fallen just a few steps away and handed it back to Huo Wujiu. It was fortunate that the bottle seemed to be crafted from a sturdy material and hadn’t shattered from the impact.
Huo Wujiu’s hand trembled as he slowly tipped out a pill. He swallowed it, then tucked the bottle into his robe and closed his eyes, ready to lie back down.
It seemed he was planning to go back to sleep.
Jiang Suizhou was stunned.
“What kind of medicine is this?” he probed.
Logically, before being captured, Huo Wujiu couldn’t have known that his legs would be broken, so why would he have been carrying medicine for his legs on him?
Huo Wujiu frowned and opened his eyes again.
He was in so much pain that his head was spinning. His vision was swimming, and he couldn’t even feel his own trembling, but he still knew the culprit behind this torment.
It was, of course, his damaged meridians. This kind of pain was unavoidable on rainy days, particularly in the humid climate of Jiangnan. It was far from pleasant, but it wasn’t life-threatening. He assumed it would ease once the rain let up, and so he intended to endure it in silence.
And yet the Prince of Jing acted as though this were a matter of life and death. Huo Wujiu himself didn’t think it was a big deal, so why was the prince so worked up?
“It’s medicine that won’t kill me,” he answered wryly.
The corners of Huo Wujiu’s mouth twitched slightly. Though his voice was hoarse, his tone was nonchalant.
However, Jiang Suizhou’s eyes widened when he heard this.
You’re in that much pain, and you’re taking random medicine? You’re just asking for trouble!
“Nonsense!” he blurted, then turned and rushed out of the room. “Meng Qianshan!”
Huo Wujiu was slumped on the daybed. He faintly heard Jiang Suizhou’s anxious voice amid the ringing in his ears.
Tsk, so much fuss over nothing.
“Really making a mountain out of a molehill…” he muttered to nobody in particular.
It was rather annoying for Huo Wujiu to be doted on like this. Still, for some reason, the tiniest of smiles crept its way onto his face.