"Shouldn't I have come?"
Chu Ruoyan caught the scent of medicine in the air and saw the wounds on his body still oozing blood. Her voice suddenly choked up: "But I came anyway."
Yan Zheng noticed the redness swelling in her eyes and instinctively tried to sit up. Chu Ruoyan hurriedly pressed him back down: "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Yan Zheng shook his head slightly: "It’s not as bad as you think..."
"You call this 'not bad'? Does it only count as serious if you die?" she snapped.
Yan Zheng gazed at her intently: "A-Yan, are you... worried about me?"
Chu Ruoyan froze, only to see the half-dead man actually managing to laugh. "So you are worried about me..."
His laughter tugged at his wounds, and he gritted his teeth against the pain.
Chu Ruoyan didn’t know whether to be furious or amused. She rummaged through the bottles of medicine, found a painkiller, and fed it to him before saying, "Don’t flatter yourself. I just came to check if the Yan Family would be left without an heir."
Yan Zheng swallowed the pill. "But Wen Jing is still alive. The Yan Family won’t die out..."
"Then consider it for Wen Jing’s sake. He’d be heartbroken if his Third Uncle died!" As she spoke, she poured a bowl of warm water. "Open your mouth."
Yan Zheng obeyed, watching as she placed a carefully carved bamboo tube into the bowl and guided the other end to his lips.
Without lifting his head, the water flowed smoothly into his mouth.
Yan Zheng took a few sips, his lips curving. "Did you make this for me too?"
Chu Ruoyan stiffened, ignoring him. Then he sighed dramatically: "If I’d known getting injured came with so many perks, I should’ve—cough—should’ve gotten hurt sooner..."
Bang!
The bowl slammed onto the table.
Before Yan Zheng could react to her icy glare, she demanded through gritted teeth: "How long are you going to keep hiding it?"
Yan Zheng blinked as she stepped forward and yanked open his bandages.
"Hiss!"
He couldn’t suppress a groan. Beneath the layers of gauze was a sword wound less than an inch from his heart—deep enough that even with medicine, it still bled.
Yan Zheng fell silent, but Chu Ruoyan’s lips pressed into a tight line.
One inch. Just a slight deviation, and he’d be dead.
Yet since she arrived, he hadn’t mentioned it, even pretending to be fine!
Her fingers brushed the wound gently. "Does it hurt?"
Before he could answer, she added sharply: "Don’t lie!"
Yan Zheng chuckled weakly. "Hurts like hell. Worse than broken bones..."
Her heart clenched. "Who did this?"
"Gu Bingzhi."
"The Chancellor’s youngest son?" She frowned. "Him? How could he land a hit on you? Where were Meng Yang and the Shadow Guards? Useless!"
Yan Zheng watched the fire in her eyes, so vivid it captivated him.
"I sent them to escort Wen Jing and Second Sister-in-law to Wolfo Temple..."
Realization dawned. He’d emptied his guard to protect them.
No wonder Wen Jing and Second Sister-in-law were nowhere in sight today.
"And the rest of your men? Are they all incompetent? How did a disgraced chancellor’s son even get near the Chief Minister, let alone stab you like this?"
Her interrogation was relentless. Yan Zheng sighed and motioned for her to lean closer.
Chu Ruoyan bent down, and his whisper grazed her ear: "I let him in..."
"What?!" She jerked upright, eyes blazing—until she saw his lips form silent words:
An Sheng is targeting the Duke of Chu.
Everything clicked.
He’d deliberately allowed Gu Bingzhi in, taken this near-fatal strike, all to sabotage An Sheng’s plans with his own blood.
While her father’s faction celebrated his injury, they didn’t realize he’d traded his life for the Duke’s.
Emotions surged in her chest, rendering her speechless.
But he misread her silence.
Don’t worry. As long as I’m alive, no one under An Sheng can touch your father.
Tears spilled over. Chu Ruoyan collapsed against his shoulder, sobbing: "You fool! Absolute fool!"
How could she ever repay such a debt?
Not with her life, not with her future—nothing would suffice.
Yan Zheng felt her tears soak his robe. His brow furrowed as he exhaled softly.
When her crying subsided, he lifted a shaky hand to wipe her cheeks.
"A-Yan, I didn’t tell you... because I didn’t want you feeling indebted."
"Politically and personally, your father must stand. So... cough!"
The fit seized him. Chu Ruoyan hastily brought water to his lips. "Enough. You need rest!"
Yan Zheng shook his head. "No time..."
His stubborn gaze held hers. She bit her lip, fighting fresh tears. "What can I do?"
"Today’s visitors..."
"Father already sent Second Sister to identify them. We’ll know who’s loyal."
He nodded, then murmured, lips nearly touching her ear: "One more thing. The Southern Barbarians seek peace... An Sheng will strike during the state banquet..."
Her breath hitched—this intelligence was priceless.
And bought with his blood.
"I understand. I’ll handle it—"
Suddenly, she leaned in, brushing her lips against his in a fleeting kiss.
"Yan Zheng, come back alive, and I’ll repay you."
She fled before he could react. Yan Zheng lay stunned, then grinned.
Repay him?
She’d kissed him.
If repayment meant that—
But a furtive figure shuffled outside the door, cutting short his thoughts.
Both recognized An Sheng’s spy. Chu Ruoyan immediately raised her voice:
"Yan Zheng! I respected the Yan Family’s loyalty, but you? You dismissed my uncle, opposed my father in court! Do you think power lets you trample justice? Mark my words—the righteous will never fall! You’ll—you’ll—"
She meant to say die by the sword again, but the ghastly wound stole her voice.
Yan Zheng seized the moment, overturning the water bowl with a crash.
"Get out!—cough!"
The eavesdropper scurried away.
Chu Ruoyan watched blood gush from his wound but froze when he mouthed: Go!
Gritting her teeth, she knew this wasn’t the time for sentiment.
Two words, barely audible:
"Stay alive."
Alive to return.
Alive for her to repay him.
