The night was deep, and the sleeping chamber in the side hall of the council room had long since been darkened.
Zhu Qingyu had experienced a day filled with both great sorrow and joy. Busy from dawn till dusk, she was utterly exhausted. When she washed up earlier, she had nearly fallen asleep standing.
So, after laying out the bedding, Zhu Qingyu took Gu Zhao’s pulse one last time, wished him good night, blew out the lamp, and the moment she lay down under the covers, she slipped into a deep sleep.
Sharing the same room but half a room apart, Gu Zhao lay awake in bed, unable to fall asleep.
He turned his head to look at Zhu Qingyu on the small couch by the window. She was curled up under the quilt, her figure barely more than a silhouette in the faint moonlight filtering through the window.
His heart was filled with restless confusion, endlessly turning over the words she had just said. What exactly did she mean?
Was he overthinking it?
Perhaps he was reading too much into it. After all, she did say she was a bad sleeper — that was true.
But she had taken the initiative to kiss him, and he had kissed her back. She hadn’t resisted at all. It was so obvious—how could he be imagining things?
The weak moonlight slipped through the window, casting her outline on the small couch. Gu Zhao’s thoughts drifted. The wind by the window was strong; sleeping there must be uncomfortable. Tomorrow, he’d have someone move the couch further inside.
The painkillers he’d taken before bed were gradually taking effect. As Zhu Qingyu had said, they contained a sedative.
Under the influence of the medicine, Gu Zhao’s scattered thoughts couldn’t be gathered back. He drifted into a hazy sleep.
The combination of the drugs and his injuries even broke through the biological clock he had maintained for years.
When he woke again, dawn was just breaking outside the window. The small couch was empty except for the neatly folded quilt — she was gone.
From the outer room came Zhu Qingyu’s voice:
“When he wakes up, remember to send someone to Nanny Zhao to get the decocted medicine. Also, don’t forget to change the external medicine for him. Make sure he gets plenty of rest and sleep. If he suddenly develops a high fever, come find me immediately.”
Who was she talking to?
Wasn’t she supposed to stay with him the whole day?
Who was she leaving him with?!
Was a patient’s care really only for one day?!
Gu Zhao was so furious his heart nearly exploded. Worried sick, he even forgot about his injuries and tried to sit up. But he moved too abruptly, pulling at the wound, and let out a miserable cry before collapsing back down.
Zhu Qingyu had been in the outer room, handing over Gu Zhao’s care to Xie Ze.
Recently, the military camp had largely stabilized. Xie Ze’s usual task of daily patient statistics had returned to normal, so he no longer needed to watch over things constantly.
Since Xiong Kun was also injured and needed rest, and the other guards under his cousin’s command weren’t as attentive as Xiong Kun, Xie Ze had volunteered to take care of the patients.
The two were in the middle of their handover when they heard Gu Zhao’s agonized shout from inside. They rushed in immediately.
Zhu Qingyu was even faster than Xie Ze. She reached Gu Zhao’s bedside with a face full of urgency and asked:
“What’s wrong? Has the wound split open? Let me see.”
Gu Zhao looked at her with a pitiful expression:
“You’re leaving? Leaving me with someone else?”
Zhu Qingyu still treated him like a child. Hearing him say that, she patiently reasoned with him:
“I’m not leaving you to others. Xie Ze will be with you during the day. I’m quite busy during the daytime—this morning, some patients who have recovered are about to leave the military camp. I have to see them one last time to make sure they’re all okay before they’re discharged. The ICU still has many patients; I was delayed yesterday and couldn’t attend to them all, so I have to check on them today. General Sun also has several severely wounded soldiers, all of whom fought alongside you in the recent battle. I must visit them today as well. Probably in the evening—I’ll be back then.”
He was, after all, just one among many patients to her.
Sure enough, her concern for him was nothing more than that of a doctor for her patients.
She even put him last on her list, spending her daytime hours on others, leaving only the evening for him.
Gu Zhao felt even more upset inside, but everything she said was reasonable. If he got angry, it would be unjustified. So he could only say gloomily:
“Oh, then make sure you eat on time during the day, and don’t overwork yourself.”
Seeing him agree, Zhu Qingyu said:
“Well then, I’m off. I’ll come see you tonight.”
Gu Zhao turned his head away, refusing to look at her, his face brimming with unspoken grievances, letting out a soft “oh.”
After Zhu Qingyu left, unable to shake her worry, she kept looking back every few steps.
Gu Zhao had already turned back, watching her retreating figure with eager eyes. When she finally turned away, he quickly looked away, though he didn’t say a word, his entire posture radiating: I’m lonely, I’m sad, I’m cold, I’m wronged, I’m understanding, and I won’t say it out loud.
A good mood is the best medicine against illness.
Unable to bear seeing him like that, Zhu Qingyu added:
“How about I come back to have lunch with you?”
Gu Zhao suddenly turned around, a genuine smile finally lighting up his face, full of anticipation:
“Alright, I’ll wait for you.”
Seeing him smile, Zhu Qingyu smiled back:
“Then I’m off. Don’t be upset, rest well.”
Meanwhile, Xie Ze, who had been quietly observing the whole scene from behind, stroked his chin thoughtfully. After Zhu Qingyu left, he pulled up a stool and sat by Gu Zhao’s bedside, whispering mischievously:
“Cousin, maybe it’s just my suspicious mind, but I can’t help feeling there’s something going on between you and Lady Zhu.”
After Zhu Qingyu left, Gu Zhao’s good mood evaporated, and he sank back into gloom:
“There’s nothing between us.”
Xie Ze breathed a sigh of relief:
“Alright, alright, I must have overthought it. Cousin, I was just babbling nonsense just now, don’t take it to heart.”
Gu Zhao, unsure if he was speaking to Xie Ze or just muttering to himself, said:
“I want to marry her, but she doesn’t agree. That’s why there’s nothing between us.”
Xie Ze thought he’d misheard:
“Huh? You want to marry her? But doesn’t Lady Zhu already have a husband?”
Gu Zhao shot him a glance:
“She and her husband aren’t really husband and wife. And what about you? You have an engagement with Second Miss Wen, so why are you chasing after First Miss Wen?”
When the topic turned to himself, Xie Ze finally understood:
“No wonder I wondered why you’d make a trip all the way to the northern border just to buy military medical supplies. Turns out, it’s for Lady Zhu.”
Gu Zhao’s heart ached. He couldn’t act, couldn’t go to her, so he wanted to find someone who shared his pain—Xie Ze—to vent to. So he said:
“Xie Ze, we are both castaways wandering the ends of the earth.”
Xie Ze didn’t agree with this and immediately contradicted him:
“Not at all, not at all, cousin. That was in the past. You and I can no longer whisper the same words. As the saying goes, ‘Sincerity can move even the hardest stone.’ The Eldest Grand Princess has been moved by my sincerity and has already agreed to my engagement with the eldest daughter of the Wen family. I’ve even written to my mother, asking her to come to the Northern Frontier to formally propose.”
His own failure was certainly disheartening, but seeing others’ happiness was even more painful.
Clearly, they had run away together to escape unwanted marriages and find their true loves. Xie Ze had already achieved what he wanted, but Gu Zhao had made no progress at all.
Gu Zhao’s frustration grew. Among all the happy couples in the world, why couldn’t there be just one for him?
Feeling too upset, Gu Zhao turned away, not wanting to speak to Xie Ze for the moment.
But Xie Ze remained oblivious, continuing to chatter on:
“Don’t be discouraged, cousin. I’m sure Lady Zhu has special feelings for you. How could she possibly say no? Maybe you’re just reading too much into things. Why don’t you ask her directly to clear things up?”
