“Yet he still isn’t a family member by blood, General.”
“The emperor isn’t a blood relative of his either, but Imperial Physician Lin takes His Majesty’s pulse every day. Following your logic, is His Majesty being improper as well?”
Yang Geng’s eyes bulged. “That doesn’t make sense, Great General,” he argued furiously. “How could that possibly compare to—”
“Why doesn’t it make sense?” Gu Fuzhou asked blandly. “His Majesty promoted Imperial Physician Lin himself. It doesn’t bother him that Imperial Physician Lin once married a man, but you seem to be very concerned about that, so you should relay your concerns to the emperor and have him remove Imperial Physician Lin from his position.”
“Uh…” Yang Geng had no argument ready. It was common knowledge within the palace that the emperor had regained consciousness thanks to Lin Qingyu. If Yang Geng were to submit a memorial suggesting that Lin Qingyu be discharged, it would seem as though he opposed the emperor’s good health. A censor of Great Yu wouldn’t be executed for saying the wrong thing, but at this point, no one would dare propose Lin Qingyu’s dismissal.
“Our business is our priority here, General,” Lin Qingyu said. “Let’s go.”
On the way to the main hall, Gu Fuzhou was about to lambast Yang Geng again when he heard Lin Qingyu scoff, “Dickhead.”
Gu Fuzhou froze. He thought he’d misheard. “What’d you just call him?”
“A dickhead?”
Gu Fuzhou was so shocked that he struggled to utter his next words. “How…how could you say that?”
“I learned it from you.” Lin Qingyu glanced archly at him from the corner of his eye. “So you can say it, and I can’t?”
“Naturally. Great beauties aren’t allowed to curse.”
“I won’t stop doing it,” Lin Qingyu said disdainfully.
Gu Fuzhou was beating himself up, agonized. “I led you astray.”
It was raining, so there were fewer pilgrims at the temple than usual; only a few people were praying to the golden Buddha. Lin Qingyu looked around but didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. The writer of the note had told him they’d meet at Changsheng Temple, but Lin Qingyu assumed that they didn’t intend to use the main hall for that meeting.
Just then, a young monk approached them and asked whether they wanted to offer prayers. Lin Qingyu took three sticks of incense from him.
“What are you praying for?” Gu Fuzhou asked.
Even in front of the Buddha, Lin Qingyu didn’t bother to conceal his malice. “Xiao Cheng’s early death.”
“Cute,” Gu Fuzhou said with a laugh. “But I don’t think that prayers offered in Changsheng Temple are always fulfilled.”
“Have you prayed here before?” Lin Qingyu asked offhandedly as he lit the sticks of incense.
“I have,” Gu Fuzhou replied casually. “If my prayers came true, you’d never feel unhappy.”
Lin Qingyu’s heart pounded in his chest. He looked up at Gu Fuzhou beside him; Gu Fuzhou seemed not to realize what he’d just said, because he met Lin Qingyu’s gaze, asking, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing.” Lin Qingyu dropped his gaze. “I’m going to the side hall, where I met him last time.”
Gu Fuzhou nodded. “I won’t go with you, then.” He hadn’t really gotten acquainted with Shen Huaishi while in the general’s body, and this wouldn’t be a good time to meet him. “I’ll swing by the rooms in the back and see whether Xu Junyuan is here.”
“The Imperial Preceptor?” Lin Qingyu’s brow furrowed slightly. “Are you going to tell him about…you?”
“Not that much. The most I’ll do is have him divine my fate.”
With that, they went their separate ways. Lin Qingyu walked to the side hall, which was quieter than the main hall; not a single monk kept watch over the area.
The side hall was where Lu Wancheng’s spirit tablet had been enshrined and where eternal lamps were lit for him. As Lin Qingyu added oil to those lamps, he saw a silhouette from the corner of his eye. He turned toward it. “I’m alone.”
Shen Huaishi walked out from behind a stone pillar. “Imperial Physician Lin,” he greeted Lin Qingyu woodenly.
Shen Huaishi sported the roughly spun clothes usually worn by commoners. He appeared disheveled, his unshaven face streaked with ash and his eyes bloodshot. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Where have you been these last few days?” Lin Qingyu asked.
Shen Huaishi seemed to not hear his question. As if uninterrupted, he continued, “Thank you for informing me about the truth behind the Tianyu Sect’s destruction, Imperial Physician.”
“Were you behind Xiao Cheng’s severe injuries?” Lin Qingyu pressed.
Something flickered in Shen Huaishi’s eyes at the mention of Xiao Cheng, but he still didn’t answer the question. “Please help Zhu-dage settle down in Xu Prefecture and give him a chance at a quiet life.”
“What about you? Where will you go?” Lin Qingyu said. “The Tianji Guard will inevitably try to track you down—can you evade them?”
The corners of Shen Huaishi’s mouth lifted into a forced smile. “Are…are you worried about me?” He hung his head. “No one aside from my family has ever cared about me. If I didn’t continue selling myself short, Imperial Physician Lin, would you come to see me as a friend?”
“Perhaps,” Lin Qingyu murmured.
A glimmer of light flashed in Shen Huaishi’s eyes; then they quickly dimmed once again. “It’s too late now, unfortunately.”
Lin Qingyu didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he pulled a box of pills he’d prepared from inside his sleeve. “Take this.”
“What are these?”
“Pills that’ll help you feign death. You can use them to escape when necessary.”
Shen Huaishi accepted the box. “Thank you. Well, then…” He looked intently at Lin Qingyu. “I’ll take my leave.”
As Lin Qingyu watched Shen Huaishi’s receding back, he asked, “Did you miss that night? Or did you show him mercy?”
Stopping in his tracks, Shen Huaishi shook his head in silence, then strode out of the side hall. Even when he left, he hadn’t given Lin Qingyu an answer.
Lin Qingyu stood there alone for a while before leaving as well. He spotted Gu Fuzhou under the eaves, staring pensively at the gauzy curtain of rain.
Droplets trickled down from the eaves, shattering on the mossy stone steps. The crisp sounds snapped Gu Fuzhou out of his trance. “Are you done? Did you meet with him?”
Lin Qingyu nodded. “He told me some pointless drivel.” He paused. “Well, not really. At any rate, he should be leaving the capital soon.”
Gu Fuzhou laughed. “When Xiao Cheng wakes up, he’s totally going to search for him. Shen Huaishi runs, and Xiao Cheng chases—but they’re both between a rock and a hard place.”
“You think Xiao Cheng will wake up?” Lin Qingyu snapped, displeased.
“Regardless of what happens to Xiao Cheng, we should prepare for the worst-case scenario.”
“The worst-case scenario is that he survives and remains crown prince. We couldn’t do anything to the emperor either in that case.”
The emperor obviously lusted after Lin Qingyu. He might tell the young physician to stay and satisfy him in bed any day now. It wasn’t just Gu Fuzhou who needed to remarry—it was Lin Qingyu too.
“We’ll have to start planning our remarriage,” Gu Fuzhou said, then double-checked, “Do you really not want to take me as your bride, Qingyu?”
Lin Qingyu considered it. “No.” Even if he had wanted to, a fifth-rank court physician taking a first-rank great general as his bride would boil down to a provocation aimed at the imperial censors.
Gu Fuzhou refused to relent. “Really? Even if you’d die if you didn’t?”
Lin Qingyu hesitated. “Mm.”
Gu Fuzhou couldn’t figure out what Lin Qingyu meant by that. “So are you willing to be my bride? You can’t be. You found wearing bridal robes and makeup demeaning, didn’t you?”
“Even if it’s demeaning, I’ve already worn them twice,” Lin Qingyu said blandly.
“Twice?” Gu Fuzhou asked in surprise. “Why twice?”
Lin Qingyu froze momentarily, then let out a quiet laugh. “I got it wrong.”
“Qingyu?” Gu Fuzhou was confused.
When Lin Qingyu wasn’t sneering, his smile was gentle and serene. And for some reason, Gu Fuzhou thought Lin Qingyu also looked wistful in that moment.