Ji Lian found the apothecary, exchanged the secret signal, and after successfully retrieving the medicine, immediately hurried back to the Prince's manor.
Carrying the medicinal herbs through the main gate, he was still somewhat apprehensive. It wasn't until he returned to the main courtyard and saw that both Cui Xi and the imperial physician had left that he finally let out a sigh of relief. He hid the portion of medicine meant for the Yong'an Prince in a cabinet before following the prescription to decoct medicine for Ye Yunting.
Ye Yunting had not yet woken. To induce sweating, he was covered with two thick brocade quilts, which were pulled up to just below his chin, wrapping him up completely, leaving only his face exposed. His complexion was still flushed from the fever, with fine beads of sweat covering his forehead and the bridge of his nose. The stray hairs at his temples were damp with sweat, clinging in strands to his cheeks.
His eyes were closed, the thick, dark lashes drooping downwards, fluttering lightly like butterfly wings. Even the eyeballs beneath his thin eyelids were quivering restlessly.
Ye Yunting was dreaming of Li Fengqi.
In the familiar main room, Li Fengqi, with his meridians completely destroyed, lay quietly on the bed. Most of the bedding had slipped to the floor, revealing a chest where the ribs were starkly visible. His breathing was already very faint, and he looked even more frail and wretched than when Ye Yunting had first seen him.
Ye Yunting took a step forward, instinctively reaching out to pull the fallen bedding back over him. However, his hand passed straight through the quilt, grasping at empty air.
He froze, staring blankly at his own palm.
Just then, the door behind him creaked open. Ye Yunting turned around to see a young man enter, followed by two eunuchs.
The young man wore a silver-white round-collared robe embroidered with clustered flowers, a Rising Clouds white jade crown on his head, and Court Clouds boots on his feet. A perfectly clear and translucent coiled dragon pendant hung at his waist, its bright yellow tassel swaying slightly with his movements.
The man seemed not to see him, walking straight to the bedside. He gazed at Li Fengqi with a complex expression for a long moment before finally speaking: "Prince Yong'an, I have come to see you."
Hearing his self-address, Ye Yunting realized with a start that this young man was actually the Emperor, Li Zong.
On the bed, Li Fengqi slowly opened his eyes. He looked extremely weak, even his gaze no longer held its former sharpness. Seeing Li Zong, his pupils contracted slightly. "What have you come for this time?" he asked hoarsely.
A eunuch brought a chair and placed it behind Li Zong, who sat down smoothly, smiling at Li Fengqi. "I have come to bring you good news, Prince Yong'an." Without waiting for a response, he continued with a pleased expression: "A fortnight ago, there was a mutiny in the Northern Frontier. Deputy Commander Zhu Wen led fifty thousand of the Black Armor Army in an attempt to rebel. Fortunately, I had prepared for such an eventuality and had countermeasures in place. The rebellion was quelled the day before yesterday. The chief conspirator, Zhu Wen, was executed on the spot. The fifty thousand Black Armor soldiers refused to surrender and were all executed and buried in mass graves."
"Pity you couldn't see the scene yourself. The corpses of fifty thousand rebels couldn't even fill ten great pits. In the end, we had to burn them all clean." He narrowed his eyes as if reminiscing. "You see, even without you, I can handle things just as well. From now on, the Northern Zhao will have no more Black Armor Army. Only my Divine Strategy Army!"
"Utterly foolish." A fire burned in Li Fengqi's eyes, yet the corners of his mouth twisted into a mocking curve. "The fifty thousand Black Armor soldiers were the elite of the Northern Frontier. Without them, who will repel the enemy when Western Huang invades? You are cutting off your own retreat."
"You are as arrogant as ever." The smile on Li Zong's face stiffened, his expression turning sinister as he stared at him. "Then just wait and see. Without you, without the Black Armor Army, I will still sit firmly upon this dragon throne."
Seeming furious, he flicked his sleeve and stormed out in a rage.
On the bed, Li Fengqi's jaw was clenched tight, his gaze fixed fiercely on Li Zong's retreating back. Suddenly, he violently coughed up a mouthful of blood.
With great effort, he half-turned his body. Veins bulged on his forehead, and threads of blood seeped from between his tightly clenched teeth, dripping onto the bed and the floor. His long hair fell in disarray behind him, just blocking his reddened eyes.
Ye Yunting was frightened by his appearance. Even though he knew it was a dream, his heart clenched painfully.
Just as he was feeling anxious, another person entered.
This person carried an aura of coldness about him, as if bearing ice and snow; even his voice was cold: "Is the Prince willing to consider my proposal?"
He took a small white jade vial, about the length of a thumb, from his sleeve and placed it before Li Fengqi. "If the Prince agrees, this antidote is yours."
Antidote?
Ye Yunting's heart gave a heavy thump, and he abruptly jolted awake from the dream, sitting upright.
Ji Lian, who had just finished feeding him medicine, was startled by the movement, his eyes widening. Then he became overjoyed, reaching out to feel Ye Yunting's forehead temperature. "Young master, you're finally awake?!"
His voice choked with tears, he said, "You were unconscious for a full day and night. I almost thought you wouldn't pull through."
Then, thinking his words inauspicious, he quickly slapped his own mouth and clasped his hands together, bowing to the four directions. "What I just said was nonsense, it doesn't count, it doesn't count."
Ye Yunting, having just woken, was still somewhat lightheaded, and his body felt sticky and heavy. He pinched the bridge of his nose, still preoccupied with the plan. "Was everything taken care of?"
"It's done," Ji Lian sniffled. "No problems."
Only then did Ye Yunting relax. But as he scanned his familiar surroundings and recalled the exceptionally vivid dream, his heart began to pound heavily, beat after beat.
He pushed aside the heavy brocade quilts, slowly put on his shoes, and got up to head towards the inner chamber.
Ji Lian grabbed hold of him anxiously. "Young master, you've just woken up; you mustn't catch a chill."
Ye Yunting's whole body felt weak and sore. Held in place, he couldn't move for a moment and could only negotiate gently. "I need to see the Prince about something urgent."
The events in the dream felt too real. He had only seen the emperor from afar a handful of times, yet in the dream, his features were crystal clear.
And the person who came later was unmistakably Grand Tutor Han Chan.
Han Chan's aura was too distinctive. Ye Yunting had actually only seen his back from a distance, but that icy, transcendent demeanor made him certain of the man's identity in an instant.
The Northern Frontier rebellion, Zhu Wen's death, the execution of fifty thousand Black Armor soldiers... and finally, that vial of antidote Han Chan produced.
Aside from the antidote, every single event beforehand matched Ye Yunting's memories from his past life.
In his past life, Ji Lian had once said before his grave that after something happened to Prince Yong'an, his trusted aides, upon hearing the news, intended to fight their way back to the capital to save him. However, the emperor seemed to have been prepared, dispatching a hundred thousand Divine Strategy troops to ambush and intercept them halfway. Zhu Wen died, and the Black Armor Army was completely slaughtered.
Later, when Li Fengqi made a comeback, the Black Armor Army he led was actually a rebuilt force. The original elite Black Armor Army had long been wiped out.
The dream aligned perfectly with his past life. Ye Yunting's chest heaved, his temples throbbing.
Was what he saw just a dream, or something that had truly happened in his past life?
He had to confirm it.
Ye Yunting pushed Ji Lian aside and staggered with large steps into the inner chamber to find Li Fengqi.
Hearing the footsteps, Li Fengqi opened his eyes to see Ye Yunting stumbling over, bracing his hands on the bedside, leaning down to stare fixedly at him. "Was the one who poisoned you Han Chan?"
Li Fengyan's eyes flickered with surprise, which he quickly concealed. He scrutinized Ye Yunting's sickly face, his expression rippling with emotion. "Why would you say that?"
Although he had harbored suspicions, how could Ye Yunting know?
Ye Yunting felt dizzy, his forehead covered in cold sweat. Unable to support himself, he slumped down, practically collapsing onto Li Fengqi. Gasping for breath, he said, "The Emperor might move against the Black Armor Army. If you have a way, Your Highness, you must send word to the Northern Frontier as soon as possible. Tell the Deputy Commander not to act rashly."
The fifty thousand Black Armor soldiers were the elite among elites. They were not only Li Fengqi's backing but also the Northern Frontier's bulwark.
If the events from his dream were true, then Ye Yunting had to find a way to prevent history from repeating itself.
"I know," Li Fengqi said, looking down at him. "I have already ordered trusted men to send the message. But right now, all the courier stations and checkpoints are heavily guarded. It's difficult to get information out."
"It must be soon," Ye Yunting urged, gripping Li Fengqi's wrist tightly. "Otherwise, I'm afraid it will be too late."
Since Li Fengqi had already anticipated this, then in his previous life, he must have also sent word to the Northern Frontier. Yet, whether the message failed to arrive or something else went wrong, Deputy Commander Zhu Wen had still raised his troops.
Ye Yunting's chest heaved violently, his breath hot from his mouth and nose. His whole body felt weak and sore, the dizzy sensation making it impossible for his eyes to focus. Half-closed, he lay against Li Fengqi's chest, his voice faint as he repeated once more, "It must be soon."
His burning cheek pressed against Li Fengqi's chest. Li Fengqi had no more time to ponder the reason behind this sudden warning and quickly called out loudly for Ji Lian to come in.
When Ji Lian entered, he saw Ye Yunting's flushed face—the fever had spiked again.
In a hurry, he was about to pick him up and carry him to the outer chamber, but Li Fengqi stopped him. "Let him sleep here. He's still ill. The daybed is too narrow and not suitable for him to rest properly."
The door to the outer chamber would inevitably be opened and closed, letting in drafts. Comparatively, the inner chamber was indeed more suitable for recuperation. Hearing this, Ji Lian didn't hesitate. He carried the unconscious Ye Yunting and laid him down on the other side, then fetched new bedding to cover him properly before going to get medicine to feed him.
Li Fengqi watched from the side, only able to see the young man's fragile profile. His fine, long brows were knotted, his eyelashes fluttering restlessly, as if he were struggling to wake up.
Despite being gravely ill, the first thing he did upon waking was to remind him to send word to the Northern Frontier.
A wave of indescribable emotion washed over Li Fengqi's heart. After a long moment, he finally said to Ji Lian, who had finished feeding the medicine, "After dark, prepare a bucket of hot water for me. Add one packet of the medicinal herbs fetched earlier."
Yesterday, with Ye Yunting's high fever refusing to break and Ji Lian fully occupied tending to him, Li Fengqi hadn't hurried to detoxify.
But Ye Yunting's words just now had reminded him: the crisis in the Northern Frontier was not yet resolved. He needed to move faster.
Late at night.
An intense medicinal odor filled the room. The pungent smell of herbs mixed with warm steam, making the very air feel thick and stagnant.
Frowning, Ye Yunting opened his eyes blearily, searching for the source of the acrid smell. Then, he saw Li Fengqi soaking in a wooden bathtub.
Li Fengqi's upper body was bare, submerged from the neck down in a dark brown medicinal broth. His eyes were tightly shut, his thick, dark brows fiercely knitted together. His hands, gripping the edge of the tub, dug into the wooden sides. The veins on his arms, flushed red from the steam, bulged prominently, as if he were enduring immense pain.
