Gu Zhao seemed to have official business today and left in a hurry, which greatly relieved Zhu Qingyu.
Her mind was too restless at the moment to treat Gu Zhao with any semblance of composure.
What she needed most now was to physically distance herself from him, using time and space to calm and dilute those fanciful thoughts swirling inside her.
But soon Zhu Qingyu realized she had relaxed far too early.
Because today, the Emperor was awake, and she had to examine him under his watchful gaze.
When she had treated him in previous days, he had mostly been unconscious. Aside from the critical nature of his condition, he might as well have been just another patient from her past.
First impressions were far too important. Because of that initial bias, even though she knew full well that the man before her held the highest power in the world—the terrifying authority to end her life with a single word—she found it hard to feel genuine awe or reverence for the Emperor from the bottom of her heart.
This was clearly a dangerous state of mind. Every day, the Emperor was surrounded by the adoration of countless subjects, all treating him like a sovereign father, holding him aloft in reverence. If she treated him differently from others, it would be easy for him to notice.
And if the Emperor felt slighted, the charge of disrespecting him as the sovereign father could easily lead to a death sentence.
Zhang Shen had been thrown into the imperial prison under that very charge.
To avoid seeming too different from others, Zhu Qingyu kept her head lowered from the moment she entered the bedchamber, lest she accidentally meet the Emperor’s gaze and commit a taboo.
When she reached him, she knelt on the footrest of his bed, just as she had on previous days, lowering her posture. Unless the Emperor deliberately craned his neck to look, he would only see the top of her head and little of her expression.
The Emperor extended his hand. Zhu Qingyu placed her fingers on his wrist to take his pulse and felt his gaze fall upon her.
Despite the assassination attempt only last night, the Emperor’s pulse was remarkably steady—the pulse of someone who had slept well and rested fully. If anything, the shock had actually helped him recover, and even the seasonal epidemic that had plagued him was almost entirely gone.
Zhu Qingyu had to admire the Emperor at this point. No wonder he was called the Son of Heaven—what a bold and unshakable heart he had.
Only last night, someone had tried to assassinate him in his very bedchamber, dying by his bedside and leaving a pool of blood across the floor.
And yet, the Emperor hadn’t been the least bit disturbed or superstitious about it. He hadn’t even changed chambers. He simply stayed in that same death scene, slept soundly through the night until dawn, recharged his energy, and even cured himself of the epidemic.
By modern standards, if beds were scarce, the Emperor could already be discharged to recover at home—he no longer needed a physician.
Her mission in entering the palace was essentially complete.
So could she take the opportunity to request permission to leave the palace? That way, she could put some distance between herself and Gu Zhao—relying on space and time to cool her chaotic emotions.
Just as she was thinking this, the Emperor suddenly tested her:
“First Madam Zhang?”
Why did he call her that?
Just moments ago, Gu Zhao had introduced her as Doctor Zhu.
How did the Emperor know?
Zhu Qingyu looked up at him almost reflexively, momentarily forgetting the rule against gazing upon the imperial visage.
The Emperor’s eyes glimmered with curiosity, wearing an expression of “I knew it.” Even the way he scrutinized her was exactly the way Madame Shao looked when gossiping with her.
One glance at the Emperor’s eager, gossipy face made it obvious he knew all about her and Gu Zhao.
When Gu Zhao said that the Emperor had granted her to him on her very first day in the capital, yet the Emperor had never met her before, it meant Gu Zhao must have asked the Emperor for her. So of course, the Emperor knew the whole story—that was only logical.
Zhu Qingyu lowered her head, struggling to squeeze out a sound as she answered with a single, difficult “yes.”
Seeing the bandage wrapped around her neck, the Emperor quickly said:
“No need for formalities. Since you are injured, spare yourself the ceremony. You were wounded saving me, so it’s fine if you don’t speak. You have saved my life twice; you have merit, and I must reward you. Zhang Jingyan previously petitioned for a title of honor for you. It was supposed to be conferred after the start of the new year, but I will grant it early now. Besides this, what other reward would you like? Take these days to think it over. When you are healed enough to speak, tell me.”
Judging by the lightness in the Emperor’s tone, the Empress Dowager must not have dared to tell him about Consort Tan yet, fearing it might affect his recovery.
She wondered if the Emperor could still be so cheerful when he found that he himself was caught up in the gossip.
As the Emperor was speaking, a eunuch entered to report:
“Your Majesty, the Eldest Grand Princess requests an audience.”
Hearing that it was his aunt, the Emperor’s expression turned somewhat troubled:
“Summon her.”
When the Eldest Grand Princess entered, she first paid her respects and asked after the Emperor’s health.
For an imperial relative of such high standing, even the Emperor treated her with deference. Looking up directly was out of the question, so Zhu Qingyu kept her head lowered as she bowed in greeting.
Though she couldn’t see the Eldest Grand Princess’s expression, her voice conveyed a tone of proper reverence toward the Emperor—why, then, did he seem troubled?
After only two brief inquiries about the Emperor’s condition, the Eldest Grand Princess stepped straight to his bedside and said bluntly:
“Since the Emperor has been blessed with great fortune and is fully recovered, the epidemic in the northern frontier cannot tolerate any further delay. I am taking the physician with me. Please issue the decree immediately.”
Before she even finished speaking, the Eldest Grand Princess reached out and grabbed Zhu Qingyu by the arm.
Zhu Qingyu was still wondering which physician the Eldest Grand Princess meant when she was suddenly pulled off her feet and nearly stumbled into the Princess.
The Eldest Grand Princess, though shorter than her, exuded enormous authority. She had even come to see the Emperor dressed in her riding gear. With no further words, she urged,
“I have already arranged carriages and horses. We will depart now, heading back to the northern frontier. I came especially to bid you farewell.”
This aggressive, roundabout-free approach was familiar to the Emperor, who was already some distance behind her, shouting somewhat frantically:
“Aunt, you’ve got it wrong! She is Doctor Zhu, a dependant of the official Zhang from the Jiangning Imperial Silk Manufactory—not a court physician!”
The Eldest Grand Princess stopped, turning to look doubtfully from the Emperor to Zhu Qingyu:
“A dependant of the Zhang family? Just now, I saw her taking your pulse. When you fell ill, was Doctor Zhu treating you?”
The Emperor was so flustered that he scrambled off the bed:
“She treated me, but—”
Having received a direct answer, the Eldest Grand Princess was satisfied. Even before the Son of Heaven, she had no patience for “buts,” and replied:
“Since Doctor Zhu treated the epidemic, I request that Your Majesty appoint her as a court physician. Since Administrator Liu proved useless, let Director Zhu take office immediately to rescue the soldiers and people of the northern frontier from the disaster. Administrator Liu’s official seal and appointment documents are still in the north. Director Zhu can directly succeed him. As for her official robe—it can be made in the north. Please issue the imperial decree.”
Zhu Qingyu had thought the Empress Dowager was decisive enough, but after meeting the Eldest Grand Princess, she realized there was always someone even more so.
Because of her throat injury, she never managed to utter a single word throughout the entire ordeal and was simply whisked out of the palace by the Eldest Grand Princess.
Even when she found herself holding the imperial decree appointing her as a court official, sitting in the Eldest Grand Princess’ carriage as part of the convoy heading north, with the imperial edict of appointment already in hand, Zhu Qingyu still hadn’t quite snapped out of the shock.
Coming back to her senses, Zhu Qingyu simply resigned herself to lying down in the carriage and began to sleep.
The epidemic in the northern borderlands had been raging for months now, weighing on the minds of every healer.
Yet, the world is full of healers. In the past, her words carried little weight—she was not called upon to go, nor would anyone have listened to her.
Now that it was her turn, she naturally should go.
Moreover, the northern border lay thousands of miles from the capital. Tackling a large-scale plague would take no less than several months.
There could be no better physical distance than this.
After such a vast separation in space and so long a stretch of time, that unsettling, improper flutter of the heart from last night would surely vanish with the wind and dissolve into thin air.
As if it had never existed at all.
