Li Yuanjing's emotions had swung between extreme highs and lows. The faint glimmer of hope that had finally appeared was instantly crushed into despair. As he touched Shen Wei's icy face, his heart ached as if being sliced by a blade, bleeding profusely, plunging him into an endless abyss of cold darkness.
Shen Wei had stopped breathing.
The wind howled through the courtyard, rustling the mulberry leaves as the spring rain drizzled down, soaking the night.
"Make way, the medicine is here!" Moxun's voice rang from outside.
She rushed in, splashing through the puddles.
After a quick glance at the heartbroken Li Yuanjing, she swiftly retrieved a pill and slipped it into Shen Wei's mouth, then proceeded to theatrically administer acupuncture to draw out the poison.
Li Yuanjing watched intently, not missing a single detail.
The candlelight burned bright as they worked late into the night.
Dark, poisoned blood dripped from Shen Wei's fingertips, collecting drop by drop into a small bowl.
As the toxins were expelled, Shen Wei's faint breath gradually returned, and her pulse began to beat again.
"Good thing we had this antidote. I’ll make a couple more when I have time," Moxun said, wiping sweat from her forehead.
Li Yuanjing, as he always did, took Shen Wei's wrist in his hand.
He could no longer hear the outside world. His focus was entirely on Shen Wei—he could feel the faint but steady pulse beneath her delicate wrist.
Weak, yet stable.
That faint pulse was like a sliver of light breaking through the darkness, illuminating Li Yuanjing's world once more.
Over the past ten days, Li Yuanjing had witnessed Shen Wei slowly slipping toward death, then glimpsing her brief revival, only to watch her wither again—until finally, her breath returned.
The emotional rollercoaster had been nothing short of a nightmarish torment for him.
"Physician Moxun, has the poison in Weiwei been completely neutralized?" Li Yuanjing asked anxiously.
Moxun replied, "Most of it is gone, but traces remain. I’ll prescribe more medicine to cleanse the rest. The Imperial Consort will recover gradually."
"Thank heavens," Li Yuanjing murmured, closing his eyes in relief.
After the overwhelming surge of emotions, a metallic taste rose in his throat, and he suddenly coughed up blood.
Unconcerned, he wiped the blood from his lips and grasped Shen Wei's slowly warming hand, a relaxed smile finally gracing his face.
Shen Wei was his treasure, lost and found again. He would hold onto her tightly this time, never letting her down.
Moxun noticed the blood at the corner of Li Yuanjing's mouth.
With a sigh, she retrieved a pill from her medicine box and handed it to him. "Your Majesty, this is a heart-nourishing pill I prepared. Your worry for the Imperial Consort has strained your heart. Take this to restore your health. If she wakes and sees you coughing blood, she’ll be distressed."
Li Yuanjing swallowed the pill without hesitation.
Moxun rose. "I’ll prepare a new prescription for the Imperial Consort. I take my leave now."
She exited the consort’s chambers.
Pushing aside the beaded curtain, she couldn’t help but glance back. Under the soft glow of the palace lamps, Shen Wei’s breathing was faint but steady, while Li Yuanjing held her hand as if they were an ordinary, loving couple.
Moxun felt a pang of envy.
She muttered under her breath, "Even royalty has true love. Only that heartless dog of a State Preceptor is devoid of it."
...
...
Thanks to Sun Qingmei’s timely delivery of the antidote, the critically ill Shen Wei was saved.
Though the poison had been neutralized, Shen Wei remained unconscious.
One quiet night in Yongning Palace, the courtyard alive with the chirping of insects, Li Yuanjing sat in the study, reviewing military deployment maps under the warm glow of lanterns.
The rustling of curtains interrupted his thoughts.
Assuming it was De Shun bringing tea, he said without looking up, "Refill the cup."
The jade teacup on the desk was lifted, and steaming tea poured in, its fragrant aroma filling the study.
Then, he heard Shen Wei’s voice: "Your Majesty, have some spring tea."
Li Yuanjing froze.
His neck stiff as if rusted, he slowly lifted his gaze. Under the crystal palace lamp, Shen Wei stood in a pale sleeping robe, her dark hair pinned up with a jade hairpin, holding the steaming teacup with a gentle smile.
"Weiwei?" Li Yuanjing stammered in disbelief.
Shen Wei replied, "I just woke up and wanted to see you, so I came myself."
The beauty under the lamplight was like a painting—just as she had always been.
Joy flashed in Li Yuanjing’s eyes. He tossed aside his brush and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Their sleeves fluttered, the jade cup clattering to the floor, warm tea soaking the hem of their robes.
After a long, greedy moment, he realized Shen Wei was only dressed in thin sleepwear. "The study is cold—why are you dressed so lightly?"
Without another word, he scooped her up and carried her back to the bedchamber, tucking her securely under layers of blankets.
His movements were gentle—as if afraid she might shatter.
A maid brought the prepared medicine, and Li Yuanjing fed it to Shen Wei himself. Drowsiness soon overtook her, and she drifted back to sleep.
Li Yuanjing returned to the study to continue reviewing memorials. But after a while, he suddenly set them aside, picked up a lantern, and went back to Shen Wei’s chamber.
Hesitating briefly, he pressed his fingers beneath her nose—checking for breath.
Steady.
He exhaled in relief.
"Tonight, I hold the silver lamp high, fearing our reunion is but a dream."
Thankfully, it wasn’t a dream.
Heaven had eyes—his Weiwei had finally returned to him.
...
...
By late spring, Shen Wei had mostly recovered and could now move about, read, and review account books.
The servants of Yongning Palace carried out their duties efficiently. While Li Yuanjing attended court, Shen Wei, after breakfast, leaned against the bed and studied the shop ledgers.
Her eyes were sharp and clear, showing no trace of illness.
"Imperial Consort, I’ve come to check your pulse," Moxun announced, stepping through the beaded curtains.
Shen Wei gestured to the rosewood stool by the bed. "Sit."
She continued reading the ledger.
Moxun rested her chin on her hand, studying Shen Wei’s thinner face. "Imperial Consort, after all the trouble you went through to stage this grand act—what did you actually gain?"
Shen Wei glanced up from the ledger, calm. "A stable relationship that will last at least five years."
Moxun clicked her tongue. "You’re ruthless."
Shen Wei was harsh—on herself and others.
The moment she sensed Li Yuanjing’s growing distrust, she had begun plotting this "poisoned near-death" performance.
A man’s verbal apology didn’t mean he truly recognized his mistakes—often, it was just to smooth things over. Shen Wei wanted Li Yuanjing to reflect deeply, to confront his feelings for her.
Only death could serve as a wake-up call. Only loss could teach true appreciation.
Shen Wei said coolly, "Next time Prince Heng or any other man covets me, Li Yuanjing won’t dare doubt me again. If he does, I’ll just die in front of him."
Moxun gave a thumbs-up. "Impressive. But what if His Majesty had refused to save you?"
Shen Wei returned to the ledger. "If he didn’t, you’d revive me. My elder brother is in Liangzhou City. If he saw the Emperor abandoning me, he’d know the predicament the Shen family faces. I’d endure a few more years—opportunities for revenge would come."
If Li Yuanjing intended to wipe them out completely, Shen Wei wouldn’t hesitate to strike first.
Her brother commanded a formidable army, she herself controlled vast wealth, and she had heirs to secure her position—not to mention, before Shen Wei was "poisoned," she had already slipped a slow-acting toxin into Li Yuanjing’s system unnoticed.
"By the way, have you given the Emperor the antidote yet?" Shen Wei asked casually.
Moxun curled his lips slightly and lowered his voice. "I administered the antidote a few days ago. I told him it was a heart-nourishing pill—he didn’t suspect a thing."
