Lin Qingyu nodded woodenly.
“Speaking of which, you’re the son of the head imperial physician in the Department of Imperial Physicians, and the student of a famed master,” the marquess said. “You should be quite skilled medically.”
Lin Qingyu’s chest tightened. Yes, he was skilled medically. He should’ve been curing the sick and healing the wounded, but now he’d been trapped in the back of a manor as a law-abiding male wife. And the man responsible for trapping him here was continuing to speak. “Physician Zhang is taking care of Wancheng’s health, but you can look after him as well. Don’t waste your medical skills.”
The marquess of Nan’an also served as the minister of revenue, so he had much to attend to. After a few more words, he left.
Lady Liang gave Lin Qingyu a jade bracelet. “This was part of the dowry I brought from my own home. I wanted to give it to Wancheng’s son in the future, but now…” She paused and smiled. “Forget it. You can keep it.”
Lin Qingyu understood exactly what she meant. She had exerted an enormous amount of effort to give Lu Wancheng a male wife, yet she still remembered to resent his inability to bear her son’s children. As Lin Qingyu had expected, each member of the marquess of Nan’an’s family was more vexing than the other. Only Lu Wancheng was somewhat bearable.
Returning to Lanfeng Pavilion, where Lu Wancheng lived, Lin Qingyu casually tossed the brocade box containing the jade bracelet to Fengqin.
“Young Lord, the young marquess still hasn’t woken up,” she told him. “Is he really all right, sleeping for so long…?”
Lin Qingyu paused on the way to the study. “I’ll take a look.”
Rather than wanting to check on Lu Wancheng himself, Lin Qingyu wished to feel the sick man’s pulse, which supposedly was seldom discernable. Lin Qingyu knew a few things about Physician Zhang, who had taken Lu Wancheng’s pulse the previous night; he was indeed famed as a doctor with true talent and knowledge. It would be a pity if Lin Qingyu didn’t get a chance to feel the newly powerful pulse that even Physician Zhang had marveled over.
Lin Qingyu entered the inner room where Lu Wancheng still slept in the same position as earlier. He stood next to the bed and looked down at him. In truth, Lu Wancheng didn’t look much like his parents. His features were much more delicate than the marquess’s and marchioness’s.
Lin Qingyu rolled up his sleeve, extending his index and middle fingers. Before he could feel Lu Wancheng’s pulse, though, someone grabbed his hand. “What are you doing so sneakily, Lin Qingyu?” asked a casual voice.
Lin Qingyu’s hand froze. “Let go.” He was afraid that if he used even a small amount of force to break free, Lu Wancheng—whose body was in such a fragile condition—would faint.
Lu Wancheng let go. His eyes were still closed, but the corners of his mouth lifted upward. “Don’t be so nervous. I don’t like men, so you needn’t be so on guard.”
Lin Qingyu’s eyes widened. “You don’t like men?”
“No. I know that homosexuality is popular in the Great Yu Empire, but not everyone is a cut-sleeve.”3 Lu Wancheng opened his eyes. “What about you? Do you like men?”
Lin Qingyu’s words got stuck in his throat. It had been a month since he was ordered into this marriage, yet nobody had ever asked him that question. He would be forced to marry this man regardless, so what did his sexuality matter? “I…don’t, of course.”
Lu Wancheng covered his mouth and coughed a couple of times. “Then you must feel incredibly wronged entering into a warding-off marriage,” he said sympathetically.
Lin Qingyu’s expression turned dark. “Of course. Wouldn’t you feel wronged too, if you were me?”
“That’s why I said I would compensate you.”
“Easier said than done. What will you compensate me with?”
“My inheritance.”
Lin Qingyu snorted. “Yet I have to fight for that.”
“What other compensation do you want?” asked Lu Wancheng. “As long as it’s not too troublesome, I’ll give it to you.”
Lin Qingyu wanted to take the exam for the Imperial Academy of Medicine. He wanted to leave the marquess of Nan’an’s residence. He wanted to do as he pleased. However, he knew those things were almost impossible. The emperor had allowed for their marriage, so even if Lu Wancheng agreed to a divorce, the emperor would also have to approve.
Lin Qingyu went quiet for a second, then said, “Give me your hand.”
Lu Wancheng covered his wrist with his other hand. “Hm? What’re you going to do?”
“Feel your pulse,” Lin Qingyu replied impatiently.
“You should have just said that.” Lu Wancheng lifted his hand, partly revealing his wrist. “Go ahead, Physician Lin.”
A basin of charcoal was burning in the room, and Lu Wancheng was wrapped in the quilt; still, his wrist felt cold. Lin Qingyu frowned as he took his pulse.
Lu Wancheng’s general health had improved, but the root of his illness hadn’t been cured. Lin Qingyu did feel the sudden breath of life that Physician Zhang had mentioned, but Lu Wancheng’s body was like a bottomless pit slowly engulfing that breath. Unless the root cause of his disease was eradicated, Lu Wancheng still wouldn’t live more than half a year.
And the root cause was incurable.
“Is there hope for me?” Lu Wancheng inquired, noticing Lin Qingyu’s dark expression.
“Why would you think that?” asked Lin Qingyu.
“Because you look unhappy,” Lu Wancheng said, appearing unconcerned. “If I were you, I’d hope for my husband’s death to come faster.”
Lin Qingyu couldn’t help asking, “Do you not care for life and death at all?”
“There’s nothing to care about,” Lu Wancheng replied, smiling. “The heavens determine my fate, not me. Don’t worry, my widow. It will happen soon.”
Lin Qingyu couldn’t find the words to respond.