Chapter 21: chapter 21
She held onto his shoulders with both hands.
Yue Zhiheng lowered his gaze, looking at her approaching face, and said in a soft voice, "Miss Zhan."
"Hmm?"
"Step back a bit; you're too close."
Zhan Yunwei: "..." Normally, she would have immediately retorted.
But at this moment, though Yue Zhiheng's expression was calm, she felt an inexplicable sense of embarrassment, as if he had seen through her completely.
How was she supposed to continue? She had indeed considered taking a direct approach, but as a spirit tamer with her powers sealed, she was no match for Yue Zhiheng, even in his heavily injured state.
Even if Yue Zhiheng could only move a single finger, he could easily harm her.
She dared not underestimate the Ninefold Spirit Veins, nor could she disregard Yue Zhiheng's Compassion Lotus Mark. The demon puppet pill was her only chance, but administering it wasn't as simple as a mere kiss.
At the very least, she had to ensure he ingested all of it.
This was bound to be a long and arduous process, one that seemed nearly impossible for a person to carry out. Yue Zhiheng would have to be insane to remain motionless and obediently swallow it as she fed him.
Zhan Yunwei straightened her posture, frustrated for the first time that she had absolutely no allure to Lord Yue.
Yue Zhiheng regarded her indifferently, quietly observing to decipher Miss Zhan's intentions. Though his mind was clouded, his spiritual energy reversed, and every movement felt like a knife cutting into his body, his consciousness was still intact.
Miss Zhan was nervous.
She might not even have noticed herself that when she was indecisive, her fingers unconsciously fiddled with the ties of her skirt.
Seeing her sit upright, looking aggrieved, she asked him, "Lord Yue, what happened this time? Why are you so badly injured?"
Yue Zhiheng lowered his gaze and answered calmly, "Nothing."
This wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
The Spirit Emperor's obsession with breaking through the Tenth Spirit Vein to achieve the Elevenfold Sacred Body had only deepened, his inner demons growing stronger.
Over the years, the Spirit Emperor spent most of his time in seclusion and sought someone every two years to suppress his inner demons.
Yue Zhiheng's rapid rise in just a few years was closely tied to this. His Ice Lotus Blood was more effective than any auxiliary artifact.
If not for Yue Zhiheng's exceptional talent, he would have ended up like others before him—dead, never to return.
But such matters were unnecessary to explain to Zhan Yunwei.
He lifted his gaze, looking at the girl before him. "Did you come to see me just to talk about the Third Prince?"
Zhan Yunwei guessed he wasn't willing to share, suspecting it was tied to royal secrets.
Before coming, she had prepared her response to avoid raising Yue Zhiheng's suspicions. "Mid-next month is the dynasty's Hua Si Banquet. I came to ask if our household receives an invitation, should I attend?"
Yue Zhiheng was silent for a moment.
Zhan Yunwei observed his expression and said, "Do you not know what the Hua Si Banquet is? Isn't the Second Lady also a spirit tamer?"
She was surprised. In the Spirit Realm, it wasn't unusual for commoners to be unaware of the Hua Si Banquet. But among the royal court, noble families, and immortal clans, all closely connected with spirit tamers, it was impossible to be completely ignorant.
The Hua Si Banquet invited only spirit tamers. Initially, it was a gathering for respected tamers to lead rituals and ward off evil. Over time, it evolved into a showcase for flaunting one's spiritual cultivation partner.
Essentially, it was a competition to brag about one's partner's talent, devotion, appearance, and status. Nothing was off the table.
The Hua Si Banquet was set for June 15th. Given Yue Zhiheng's current status, the Queen was likely to send an invitation soon.
It was strange, really. Though Yue Zhiheng had a rough childhood in Du'e City, the Yue family had acknowledged him in recent years. As the eldest son, how could he lack such basic knowledge?
After her explanation, Yue Zhiheng asked, "Do you want to attend?"
Zhan Yunwei sighed helplessly. "It's not about wanting to or not."
After all, it was the Queen's invitation. As the daughter of the former mountain lord, declining it required serious consideration. No court official dared to offend the Queen.
Some spirit tamers, even on their deathbeds, would eagerly attend to defend their spouse's honor.
But Yue Zhiheng casually replied, "If you don't want to go, pretend to be ill and refuse."
Zhan Yunwei said, "Doesn't Lord Yue aspire to rise to power and prominence?"
Yue Zhiheng sneered. "Does Miss Zhan think the position of Chief Steward of the Chitian Palace is secured by fawning and flattery?"
He glanced at her. "Besides, while other spirit tamers go to praise their partners, what would you go for?"
Zhan Yunwei couldn't even imagine such a scene.
She couldn't exactly praise Yue Zhiheng. Did Lord Yue have any merits to speak of? He was more ruthless, cunning, and enigmatic than anyone else's partner.
Zhan Yunwei said, "Let's discuss it when the invitation arrives." By then, she might already have left. Today was just a pretext.
Ultimately, the conversation circled back to the most challenging task.
"Lord Yue, are you thirsty? Should I pour you some water?"
Zhan Yunwei looked around the room. There was a teapot on the table, but it was completely empty. While the Chitian Palace guards ensured safety, they weren't exactly meticulous.
She turned to Yue Zhiheng. Lord Yue showed no sign of anger, appearing indifferent. "It's nearly time for medicine."
So water or no water, it made no difference.
Zhan Yunwei put the teacup down, once again realizing that apart from the mute maid, no one else in the world seemed to care for him as a family member would. He was so accustomed to this that he didn't think twice about it.
She said, "Medicine can't replace water. Wait a moment."
Zhan Yunwei went out and gave Shen Ye a few instructions. Shen Ye looked slightly guilty. "We're all rough men; we neglected this."
Not long after, soldiers of the Chitian Palace came in and replaced the teacup.
When the water had cooled to a suitable temperature, Zhan Yunwei poured a cup and brought it to him. As she looked around the simple room meant for convalescence, she found dissatisfaction in every corner.
The air in the county of Fenhe, after the rain, still carried the fresh scent of earth. Yue Zhiheng leaned half-sitting against the headboard, watching the young woman in her lotus-pink gauze dress bustling in and out, giving instructions:
Warm water. Clean towels. Thicker blankets.
She was almost exasperated as she said to Shen Ye, "Though it's midsummer and not cold, his spiritual energy has dissipated to such a degree that his body temperature must be colder than in winter. The blankets in this room are far from sufficient."
Yue Zhiheng understood he should not allow the scheming Miss Zhan to linger here any longer.
But perhaps it was the weariness and discomfort in his body, or perhaps he was truly thirsty and cold—he stayed silent, making no effort to send her away.
Zhan Yunwei, meanwhile, was quietly observing Yue Zhiheng. He seemed to be in considerable pain. Even after drinking the water, his lips remained pale, though slightly more hydrated. Occasionally, he furrowed his brow, likely enduring a recurrence of his injuries and a splitting headache.
Her thoughts began to stir once more.
Soon, Shen Ye returned with fresh blankets. Yue Zhiheng closed his eyes, frowning, seemingly waiting for the wave of discomfort to pass. Summoning her courage, Zhan Yunwei approached him again. "Lord Yue, are you feeling worse? Should I call for the medical cultivator?"
But before her hand could touch his forehead, Yue Zhiheng's eyes opened.
Her wrist was caught in his hand, immobilized. His palm was broad and calloused, likely from years of wielding that eerie whip.
By contrast, the slender wrist of the spirit tamer he held was soft and delicate, white as snow. His indifferent grip locked onto her lifeline.
The scent of ice lotus filled the canopy, mingling with the warmth of her fragrance, dizzying and intoxicating. Yue Zhiheng's severe injuries had evidently taken a toll; otherwise, he wouldn't have let Zhan Yunwei get so close.
He noticed that her gaze deliberately avoided his eyes, landing instead on his chin or his lips.
After a moment of silence, he couldn't help but ask, "Miss Zhan, what exactly are you trying to do?"
What scheme was she plotting?
Yue Zhiheng knew she was restless, but Zhan Yunwei was clever. She must also realize that even if he were barely clinging to life, without spiritual power, she couldn't cause much trouble.
Zhan Yunwei slowly shifted her gaze, meeting his eyes.
Yue Zhiheng noticed that her other hand was once again subconsciously playing with the ties of her clothing.
She didn't answer him. Instead, she leaned closer.
Yue Zhiheng's hand was icy, while the hand in his grasp was soft and warm. He watched Zhan Yunwei, her chestnut-brown eyes meeting his, and for a moment, he didn't move.
The two remained in a tense standoff. Zhan Yunwei seemed to make up her mind and was about to act when a knock came from the door.
The medical cultivator pushed the door open, entering with a casual air. "My lord, it's time for your medicine."
Yue Zhiheng caught sight of the blush spreading across the young woman's face, a trace of irritation flashing in his eyes.
Yue Zhiheng might have had an absurd suspicion, but it was so far-fetched that he dismissed it outright.
He released Zhan Yunwei's hand and said coldly, "You should leave, Miss Zhan."
Zhan Yunwei glared at the medical cultivator, frustrated at her failed attempt.
She had finally mustered her courage, and Yue Zhiheng seemed partially dazed—only for the medical cultivator to ruin the moment.
The medical cultivator coughed awkwardly, a little embarrassed himself.
He was just an old man who had seen Lord Yue lying alone in this room on previous visits, without anyone to look after him. Everything relied on Yue Zhiheng's formidable constitution.
Today, out of habit, he had entered unannounced, never expecting to interrupt something like this between the lord and his lady.
Zhan Yunwei wasn't planning to leave. She simply stood under the eaves, waiting for the medical cultivator to finish treating Yue Zhiheng.
After all, her reputation was already in tatters. She was determined to rescue Zhan Shujing and the others, no matter what it took.
When the treatment was done, Yue Zhiheng lay deep in thought, frowning. The medical cultivator, mindful of his professional duty, said, "Although the Chief Steward's body is recovering quickly, certain activities are still ill-advised. I understand my lord has recently married—there's plenty of time ahead."
Yue Zhiheng glanced at him, faintly amused.
But his affairs were not for others to comment on, so he closed his eyes coldly, saying nothing.
The medical cultivator assumed his silence meant stubbornness and sighed, thinking of the beautiful lady just now.
As he left, he saw Zhan Yunwei still waiting outside and couldn't resist advising her as well.
"Madam, the Chief Steward needs proper rest."
Then, he heard her ask thoughtfully, "Can he walk right now?"
The medical cultivator paused, puzzled by the question. Did she need him to walk? He gave her a reproachful look and said, "It's best for him to remain lying down and avoid exertion."
So, he could walk.
That was enough.
The two stood outside for a while. When the medicine was ready, the medical cultivator turned to Zhan Yunwei. "Would you like to take it to him, Madam?"
Zhan Yunwei thought this was finally a useful gesture and nodded, taking the bowl of medicine.
When she entered, Yue Zhiheng was no longer sitting upright but lying down to rest. She had noted the sound of the medical cultivator's footsteps and stood in the cool breeze outside long enough for her scent to dissipate.
Instead of approaching immediately, she circled the screen and found Yue Zhiheng's bloodstained robes from earlier.
She hadn't lingered around the room all day for nothing. When she spotted the immobilization talisman, her eyes lit up.
At first, Yue Zhiheng thought the medical cultivator had returned with the medicine, but he quickly sensed something was off.
Though the footsteps sounded similar, the figure was much lighter. He instantly guessed who it was.
Miss Zhan was certainly putting in the effort today.
Yue Zhiheng couldn't help but speculate: what was Zhan Yunwei trying to do? Was she planning to kill him or harm him? Did she bring something to aid her? It didn't make sense—Shen Ye would've caught it during his inspections.
He waited for a while, sensing that Zhan Yunwei was rifling through something, likely the clothing he had changed out of.
A faint sneer tugged at his lips. Miss Zhan was clever, but she didn't know his constitution was unique. The talisman, once stained with his blood, had already lost its efficacy.
He kept his eyes closed, deciding it was better to let her lose hope quickly rather than let her dwell on it day and night.
After a moment, she approached.
The sound of air shifting reached his ears, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Zhan Yunwei swiftly pressing the talisman onto his forehead.
"…" Yue Zhiheng remained still, his heart turning cold. Was she finally making her move?
The young woman leaned closer, her gaze carrying an unusual hint of guilt. "Lord Yue, forgive me."
The two fell silent for a moment.
She didn't notice the cold mockery in his eyes, and he didn't notice the faint blush tinting her ears.
There was no need for an apology, Yue Zhiheng thought. There were far more people trying to harm him than just her. Her actions today simply made everything seem redundant and absurd.
His hand, resting atop the embroidered quilt, silently formed a spell seal. He would see for himself what Miss Zhan was capable of.
As Yue Zhiheng watched her, he saw her place both hands on his shoulders and slowly lean down.
Outside, the rain-softened earth in Fenhe County began to stir, the soil loosening as something sprouted. The faint hum of insects accompanied the night.
As his hand lifted, ready to intercept her, something softer touched his lips before he could act.
The insect chorus faded into silence, and he felt momentarily light-headed. The faint fragrance of lip balm transferred from her to him, carrying a subtle sweetness that melted in the space between their lips.
It was a hesitant, clumsy, exploratory touch. Gentle and tentative, it lingered briefly before retreating.
Every sense seemed to sharpen, tinged with a shiver of unease.
His hand trembled slightly. He should have instinctively pushed her away, but instead, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
He had already figured out what it was, but in the fleeting hesitation of a moment too late, it no longer mattered.
The night stretched on, long and silent. His hand fell back down, gripping the quilt.
It felt like a sigh or perhaps self-mockery.
The process took longer than he'd expected. After what felt like an eternity, Yue Zhiheng closed his eyes.