In stark contrast to the chaos ensuing in the palace, Gu Fuzhou’s residence was the picture of calm serenity.
The breeze carried the faint fragrance of lotus leaves, accompanied by the crisp sound of morning dew dripping from fresh bamboo leaves into the pond. Beside the pond sat two reclining chairs shielded from the sun by a canopy.
When Lin Qingyu had come to deliver medicine to Gu Fuzhou, the general was fishing while lying supine in a chair, looking as though he was having the time of his life. A bowl of iced red grapes freshly ladled up from a well had been placed within his reach.
“Imperial Physician Lin.” Gu Fuzhou removed the straw hat on the other chair. “After the journey here, you must be feeling the heat. Come, sit down and have some fruit.”
Taking a seat, Lin Qingyu looked at the crystal-clear water droplets on the grapes, then pinched one grape between his fingers. “My short-lived husband liked iced food during summer as well.”
Gu Fuzhou paused in the middle of chewing.
Lin Qingyu pretended he didn’t notice. “Unfortunately, he was sickly and unable to stomach such cold food. Last year, he ate a few chilled grapes he was craving, and he fell so sick that he almost lost his life.”
Gu Fuzhou let out a low chuckle. “Uh…that’s rough.”
“If he could ever live a life in which he had a strong, healthy body, he’d probably eat a few more grapes during summer to satisfy that craving.”
“I presume he would,” Gu Fuzhou said. “They say the more sorely you lack something, the more intensely you crave it. Perhaps, right after reincarnating, he’d wolf down all those foods he wasn’t able to eat before until he was stuffed.”
Lin Qingyu finally realized why Gu Fuzhou had insisted that he watch as the general lifted those stone dumbbells.
Idiot.
Lin Qingyu looked on as Gu Fuzhou popped grape after grape into his mouth. “It’s easy to gain weight if you eat fruit at night,” he remarked. “You’ll have to double your training today, Great General Gu.”
Gu Fuzhou wilted. “I am training. Fishing is a sport too.”
“Are you moving?”
Gu Fuzhou rotated his wrist. “Yes.”
“People in their thirties gain weight the moment their control lapses slightly, unlike younger people,” Lin Qingyu warned. “You’re fit and muscular right now, General, but imagine if all that muscle on you got flabby. Aren’t you afraid that it’d keep you from getting married?”
Gu Fuzhou stayed silent for a long time. Aggrieved, he covered his face with his palm. “Stop right there, Imperial Physician Lin. I’ll go lift some weights later.”
As they spoke, the fishing rod started to shake. Gu Fuzhou’s eyes lit up, and he reeled his fish in with practiced efficiency.
“I didn’t understand why my father loved fishing so much, but now, I suddenly understand it. This is much more fun than playing cuju or dakyu, isn’t it?” he marveled. “You don’t get tired, either.”
“You were orphaned as a small child, General. Where did this ‘father’ come from?” asked Lin Qingyu.
Gu Fuzhou smiled mysteriously. “What do you think?”
“No idea,” Lin Qingyu replied blandly.
“This father I mentioned is of course my godfather—your father.”
Lin Qingyu nodded obligingly. “My father does like fishing.” He looked at the tiny loach Gu Fuzhou had spent half a day fishing for, then rose from his chair. “When you’re done with everything here, General, you can pay your respects to my late husband at my residence.”
Gu Fuzhou’s eyes lit up again, more brightly than when that loach had taken the bait. “I will.”
Xiao Cheng had yet to respond to the military officials’ protests, although they’d gone on for two days. It was evident that the crown prince would be a domineering dictator who never took no for an answer. At this point, this conflict wasn’t merely about whether the guards around Gu Fuzhou should be recalled; rather, the incident concerned every military official in Great Yu. If Xiao Cheng was capable of such tyranny as crown prince, then military officials would surely be in even direr straits after he ascended to the throne.
When Lin Qingyu walked past Qinzheng Hall, he saw a bustling throng of people in front of the entrance, on the verge of barging in. However stubbornly Xiao Cheng refused to budge, he’d soon be forced to.
Directly after his shift, Lin Qingyu headed to the Imperial Academy of Medicine. Ever since his father was demoted and Gu Fuzhou fell under investigation, many of Lin Qingyu’s colleagues at the academy gave him disdainful looks and didn’t bother to hide them. Previously, they’d only discussed his private life behind closed doors, but now they did it loudly in his face. They lacked the guts to do anything else, fortunately, so Lin Qingyu usually pretended they didn’t exist.
✦ ✦ ✦
Under the tutelage of the miracle physician from the South, Lin Qingyu had begun to practice breeding rudimentary gu. One night, he stayed in Qiancao Apothecary to work on that.
Past midnight, he heard someone pull open a drawer of the herb cabinet. Having a vague notion of who the intruder was, he walked in the direction of the noise. It was the person he’d expected.
“Guard Shen,” he greeted the man.
Shen Huaishi tucked his arms behind his body, his gaze darting around the room. “Imperial Physician Lin.”
“Did you get injured again?” Lin Qingyu asked, giving the shadow guard a once-over.
“No,” Shen Huaishi said, looking shifty.
“If not, why are you here?”
Members of the Tianji Guard often got themselves injured. On top of that, Shen Huaishi had to carry out most of his missions in secret, which made it inconvenient for him to request the services of an imperial physician. When wounded, he came to Qiancao Apothecary for medicine to treat his external injuries.
Still, Lin Qingyu didn’t know of any other shadow guard who was permitted to enter and exit the academy as he pleased. He’d heard that the crown prince himself had granted Shen Huaishi this special privilege.
When no words came out, Lin Qingyu held his palm flat. “Give it to me.”
Shen Huaishi didn’t reply.
The shadow guard should have had nothing to fear; Lin Qingyu was merely an imperial physician unversed in martial arts who couldn’t have withstood even a single strike from him. Yet, when subjected to Lin Qingyu’s stony glare, Shen Huaishi ended up handing over what he held—a small tin of ointment.
Sniffing it just once, Lin Qingyu knew instantly what the ointment was for.
Lin Qingyu stalked over to yank Shen Huaishi’s collar open. Seeing red marks all over the other man’s collarbones, he demanded coldly, “Is he always so rough with you in bed?”
Shen Huaishi took two steps back, covering his neck as a blush crept across his cheeks. “Imperial Physician Lin, you…!”
“Come over here.” Lin Qingyu returned to his desk and withdrew a silver needle from his medicine chest. “Give me your hand.”
Shen Huaishi followed him, despite his confusion. Lin Qingyu pierced the skin on his fingertip, and fresh blood flowed into a special dish. Lin Qingyu observed it for a while before saying in surprise, “There’s no trace of gu in your body, unexpectedly.”
“Why would you think there would be?” Shen Huaishi asked.
“The crown prince treats you so badly, yet you’re deeply infatuated with and unshakably loyal to him. Beyond the presence of gu that can induce infatuation, I can’t think of any explanation for that.”
Shen Huaishi smiled bitterly. “Imperial Physician Lin, why do you always…look down on me?”
Lin Qingyu gazed at him. “It’s not that I look down on you—it’s you who looks down upon yourself.”