Chu Ruoyan was startled.
She glanced around to ensure no one was nearby, then reached out to brush past his left knee.
As expected, his left foot twitched slightly in response, though the movement was much subtler than his right foot had been.
She drew a sharp breath—could it be that he had held back when delivering the blow that day, leaving his legs not entirely crippled?
"My lady, the cold water and ice have arrived!"
Chu Ruoyan pushed aside her thoughts, quickly soaking a cloth in the cold water and placing it on his forehead. She then tucked ice packs under his armpits and behind his knees, hoping to bring down his fever.
An hour later, the imperial physicians arrived.
To her surprise, it was none other than Chief Physician Zhang himself!
Noticing the cold compress and ice on Yan Zheng, he gave an approving nod before taking his pulse. His expression darkened instantly. "Who would be so ruthless? The marquis was already injured, yet they subjected him to torture? The exhaustion has triggered a raging fever—this was meant to kill him!"
Hearing the concern in his voice, Chu Ruoyan hurriedly asked, "Can he still be saved?"
"You arrived just in time."
She exhaled in relief. "Then we leave it to you, Chief Physician Zhang."
Chief Physician Zhang, revered as the head of the imperial medical bureau, was no ordinary healer.
After a round of acupuncture, Yan Zheng's fever noticeably subsided.
"My lady, the marquis's life is no longer in danger. However, for the next few days, he must avoid further injury or emotional agitation, lest his condition worsens again."
He then retrieved a small vial from his medicine chest. "This is my 'Nine-Revolution Jade Dew Elixir.' It revitalizes meridians and restores vitality. Unfortunately, I only have this much left. Administer two pills daily to the Marquis of Anning, and his recovery should accelerate."
Chu Ruoyan hesitated at his generosity. "Isn’t this medicine too precious?"
Chief Physician Zhang shook his head. "Do not doubt me, my lady. Three years ago, during a free clinic at Huichun Hall, I was falsely accused and nearly sentenced to death. It was Heir Apparent Yan who happened to pass by and saved me. I owe the Yan family a life—this is merely repaying that debt."
So that was the connection.
Chu Ruoyan relaxed slightly, then turned her gaze to Yan Zheng’s legs. "Chief Physician Zhang, in your opinion… is there any chance my husband might walk again?"
The physician paused, then carefully examined the bones.
After a moment, his face lit up. "Remarkable! When I last treated the marquis, there was no response at the fracture site. But now, there are signs of regeneration…"
Chu Ruoyan frowned. "Are you saying there’s hope for his recovery?"
"Without a doubt. However, the left leg’s response is slower than the right, so it will take longer to heal. But at this rate, he should be able to stand within six months and walk normally within two years!"
Chu Ruoyan nodded slowly—then suddenly pressed a golden hairpin to his throat. "Chief Physician Zhang, forgive my distrust, but this matter is too critical. You must swear not to speak of it."
The physician chuckled dryly. "You’re far too suspicious, young lady. If I meant him harm, why would I have come personally? Very well, for Heir Apparent Yan’s sake, I’ll swear it: If I breathe a word of this, may I fall gravely ill with no cure. Satisfied?"
For a healer, the greatest torment was being unable to heal oneself.
Only then did Chu Ruoyan lower the hairpin and bow deeply. "My apologies for the offense."
Chief Physician Zhang shook his head, slung his medicine chest over his shoulder, and left.
Yan Wenjing, who had been holding back, finally spoke up. "Aunt, what did he mean? Can Uncle recover?"
Chu Ruoyan hummed in affirmation, then pulled him close. "Wenjing, you must never speak of this to anyone. If word gets out, your uncle’s life could be in danger."
Given the methods of the Marquis of Pingnan and Prince Yu, the only reason Yan Zheng had survived this long was likely because of his crippled legs.
A cripple could stir no trouble—but if he stood again, everything would change.
Yan Wenjing nodded solemnly.
That night, Chu Ruoyan kept vigil without rest.
Fortunately, by the early hours, Yan Zheng awoke.
In his dazed state, he felt something cool on his forehead. Reaching up, he found a damp cloth, still chilled.
Yan Zheng froze.
During his time at the general’s estate, he had suffered fevers before—each time ignored, save for the two occasions Yan Xun had discovered him and carried him to a physician in the dead of night.
But even Yan Xun had never thought to use a cold compress, let alone a freshly changed one.
His gaze drifted downward—and there she was.
Her dark hair cascaded loosely as she dozed beside the bed, exhausted.
In her hand, she still clutched the previous cloth, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over her face.
Yan Zheng stared, stunned.
No one had ever cared for him like this.
The sight left him utterly unprepared, a strange tightness in his chest.
"Ah, you’re awake…"
She roused from her light sleep, instinctively reaching to check his temperature.
For once, Yan Zheng didn’t pull away.
"The fever’s gone. I’ll fetch your medicine…"
She tried to rise, but her legs, numb from sitting too long, gave way—sending her stumbling forward.
"Careful!"
Yan Zheng grabbed her arm, but the sudden motion yanked her backward instead.
Thud!
Her head collided with his chest, jolting his wounds with searing pain.
Yet in unison, they asked:
"Are you alright?"
Silence.
Then, as if embarrassed, both quickly averted their eyes.
Chu Ruoyan scrambled up. "I’m fine. Did I hurt you?"
Yan Zheng shook his head.
"Then—then I’ll go get your medicine."
She fled like a startled hare. Yan Zheng watched her retreating figure for a long moment before finally looking away.
"Seen enough?"
At his dry remark, Meng Yang stepped out from the shadows, coughing awkwardly. "Ahem. My lord, I… saw nothing."
Yan Zheng shot him a bland glance. "Report."
Meng Yang straightened. "We’ve confirmed it—Su Nantian, the Marquis of Pingjing. His younger brother, Su Nanhe, enlisted years ago but was executed by the general for raiding villages and murdering civilians to fake military merits. Su Nantian played the righteous brother, but he’s been plotting revenge ever since."
"He somehow tracked down Ajiao, learned that you and Heir Apparent Yan would visit Wangshuang Tower during last year’s Lantern Festival, and arranged for those spoiled nobles to set the stage…"
Here, Meng Yang hesitated. "My lord, you shouldn’t blame yourself. Even if you hadn’t acted, the heir apparent would’ve lost his temper regardless."
Yan Zheng’s eyes turned icy. "But I was the one who saved her. I brought her into the Yan household."
When Meng Yang opened his mouth to argue, Yan Zheng cut him off. "Continue."
Meng Yang sighed. "Originally, no women were to accompany the troops. But Ajiao begged the madam, claiming she’d serve the heir apparent as a maid. After the heir’s wife passed, he never touched another woman. The madam, seeing Ajiao’s resemblance to the late mistress and moved by her 'devotion,' secretly took her to Hangu Pass. That’s how she got her opening."
Yan Zheng said nothing.
Meng Yang pressed on. "After escaping us, Ajiao went straight to the Marquis of Pingjing. Then…"
He trailed off.
Yan Zheng looked up at him, and only then did he grit his teeth and say, "Then the Marquis of Pingnan took her to Grand Tutor Rong's residence!"
