Initially, deciding to feign unconsciousness was merely a stalling tactic to buy herself some time to come up with an excuse.
Gao Yuexing kept her eyes closed as Fu Yun carried her to the bed, wiped her body with warm water, tucked her into the silk quilt, and gently wrapped her up. She even placed a warm handwarmer in her arms. Exhaustion flooded over her, and soon her head felt heavy, and she fell asleep uncontrollably.
In a half-asleep state, Gao Yuexing felt uncomfortable. Her whole body was burning, yet she couldn’t stop shivering from the cold. Waves of heat and cold alternated, as if she were struggling in a world of ice and fire.
She knew she was sick again.
Gradually, the sound of people coming and going filled the air beside her. Although she couldn’t open her eyes, she could vaguely hear the commotion around her.
The imperial physicians from the palace had come to take her pulse.
The scent of medicinal herbs was strong, and they pried her mouth open to pour the medicine down her throat.
Fu Yun used cold water to wipe her body and reduce her fever.
Gao Yuexing’s thoughts wandered aimlessly: When I’m sick, there are so many people taking care of me. If he gets sick, alone in the Xiaonan pavilion, how unbearable must it be…
The worry in her heart spurred her to struggle to wake up no matter what.
Finally, she woke with a start from her dreams, only to find the daylight already fading.
Fu Yun was resting by the bedside, her head cushioned on her arm as she took a light nap. The deep blue goose-down canopy hung around them, enclosing them securely.
Gao Yuexing exhaled softly.
Fu Yun woke almost instantly at the sound and said, “Miss Gao, you’re awake?”
Hearing her hoarse voice, Gao Yuexing was slightly moved. “You’re sick too.”
The heavy night dew would take its toll on anyone who spent a night on the cold stone floor, let alone a delicate woman.
Fu Yun covered her mouth and nose with a silk handkerchief, her voice muffled as she replied, “This servant has caught a cold; don’t let it pass to you.”
Gao Yuexing smiled and reached out to pull her. “Neither of us is any better off than the other, so stop being so particular.”
Fu Yun turned her head to dodge and replied helplessly, “You still have the energy to joke around, so it seems you’re much better. Are you hungry? There’s bird’s nest soup warming for you outside.”
Gao Yuexing didn’t feel hungry. When one is ill, appetite often fades. However, Fu Yun didn’t intend to negotiate. She turned and went out, bringing the warm bird’s nest soup back in.
When she uncovered the pot, the rich aroma of milk instantly dispelled the bitter medicinal scent.
“Golden-thread bird’s nest simmered over low heat until tender, then topped with fresh milk from the same day, kept warm over hot water. It’s nourishing but not greasy. Eat it, and you’ll recover faster,” Fu Yun coaxed as she brought a small white porcelain spoon to Gao Yuexing’s lips.
Gao Yuexing took a sip, finding the taste rich and exquisite, clearly not ordinary fare. She asked, “Who gifted this delicacy?”
Fu Yun answered, “The Noble Consort.”
Gao Yuexing reached for her outer robe to get out of bed, saying, “I must reassure the Noble Consort so she doesn’t worry about me.”
Fu Yun quickly stopped her. “Ah, tomorrow, Miss. Don’t overexert yourself. The Noble Consort retires early; you won’t see her even if you go now.”
Gao Yuexing leaned by the window and glanced outside. Sure enough, the candles in the Noble Consort’s residence were faint, and no lively sounds could be heard. Her gaze shifted to the nearby eastern side hall, where the Third Prince’s doors and windows were tightly shut. She couldn’t tell what was happening inside.
Fixing her eyes on that closed door, Gao Yuexing asked, “When did His Highness return?”
Fu Yun lowered her voice, seemingly cautious. “Around the hour of Chen (7–9 AM). This servant heard the noise of someone returning…” After a pause, she added, “By the hour of Si (9–11 AM), His Majesty sent someone to urge His Highness to study. It was just like usual, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Last night, the matter of Li Fuqiu sneaking out during his house arrest had not reached the Emperor’s ears.
Gao Yuexing murmured, “I did come at the right time…”
Her voice was so soft that Fu Yun didn’t catch it and asked, “Miss Gao, what did you say?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head and didn’t repeat herself. Instead, she gently closed the window and shifted the topic. “Sister Fu Yun, could you do me a favor? Find the white fox fur the Emperor gave me. I’d like to use it to make a jacket.”
Fu Yun recalled the white fox fur and, following Gao Yuexing’s instructions, retrieved it from the cabinet. After measuring it, she smiled and said, “This fox fur gifted by His Majesty is truly rare—not only is the fur pristine, but it’s also perfectly intact. Cutting it would be a pity, but leaving it uncut might result in a poor fit.”
Gao Yuexing grinned. “No problem, make it larger. I’m bound to grow.”
Fu Yun stroked the fox fur. “Let me handle it. This kind of small task isn’t worth sending to the Palace Embroidery Bureau. Those people have a habit of delaying things and adding layers of fees, bleeding us dry.”
Gao Yuexing said, “Thank you.” After a moment of thought, she added, “Make the waist loose; that way, it’ll be warmer.”
Fu Yun agreed and carefully wrapped up the fox fur to store it.
Since Gao Yuexing had slept much during the day, she had regained some energy by nightfall. Lying in bed, she couldn’t fall asleep.
She urged Fu Yun to rest early.
Fu Yun, already ill and having slept poorly the previous night, had spent the entire day caring for Gao Yuexing. Exhausted in both body and mind, she finally let her guard down and fell into a deep sleep, deeper than ever before.
Gao Yuexing slipped through the outer room, making sure not to make a sound that might disturb Fu Yun.
She walked into the courtyard and headed straight for Li Fuqiu’s eastern side hall. Without knocking or calling for anyone to announce her, she pushed the door open directly.
Creak—
Half the lamps in the eastern side hall were extinguished, leaving the room dim. The furnishings inside were already somber, and at night, the atmosphere was even more chilling. Facing the door was a black sandalwood chair. The steady drip of the water clock echoed. Li Fuqiu, awake in the middle of the night, was sitting in the chair. At the sound, he raised his head, staring at Gao Yuexing with a cold, expressionless face.
Gao Yuexing’s hair was loose, and she was simply draped in a cyan crossed-collar robe. The moonlight streamed behind her from the courtyard, illuminating her back as she faced the dim light inside. Though there was a distance between them, at that moment, Li Fuqiu felt as though he could see the oppressive force in her gaze with startling clarity.
They stood in silent confrontation for a few moments. Then, Gao Yuexing lifted her skirt with one hand and stepped across the threshold.
Li Fuqiu’s fingers resting on the armrest twitched slightly. Something unknown rolled across the floor with a clatter, heading toward Gao Yuexing’s feet.
She stopped it with her foot, preventing it from rolling any further.
Looking down carefully, she found it was a horsewhip, as thick as three adult fingers, its surface sticky with blood, leaving dark red marks on the green bricks.
Li Fuqiu gritted his teeth and spat out her name one word at a time, “Gao, Yue, Xing—you’re nothing like a six-year-old child.”
Gao Yuexing’s eyes remained fixed on the bloodied whip. She smiled faintly and replied in a soft, delicate voice, “Then what kind of thing are you?”
He, too, was nothing like an ordinary ten-year-old child.
When they first met, Gao Yuexing had assumed he was just a spoiled brat. But over time, she realized this wasn’t the case. She had been quietly observing him, and it seemed he was trying to suppress himself. Yet in his very bones and blood, there was an unrelenting madness screaming to be unleashed.
He was a madman.
Why does a person go mad?
Most often, it’s because of pain, because of obsession.
Who was Li Fuqiu? The son of Noble Consort Zheng, the one and only apple of the Emperor’s eye.
What could still cause him pain?
The madman now coldly asked, “Where were you hiding last night?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “I met that child you said crawled out from underground.”
Li Fuqiu dragged out an elongated “Oh,” his tone mocking. “—So you were scared sick, huh!”
Gao Yuexing didn’t take it to heart and didn’t bother with any pointless rebuttals. She picked up the horsewhip on the ground and wandered around Li Fuqiu’s eastern side hall. Eventually, she found someone curled up beneath the bookshelf in the inner chamber.
It was an elderly servant woman. The exposed skin on her arms and the back of her neck bore fresh marks from the horsewhip. Trembling, she raised her head to glance at Gao Yuexing, only to lower it again quickly.
Gao Yuexing found it strange. In the palace of Consort Dowager Hui, this woman endured a beating without making a sound.
Li Fuqiu barked, “Get out.”
The old servant obediently got up and crawled away without a moment’s delay, retreating along the wall. Before leaving, she thoughtfully closed the door behind her.
The door opened and shut.
The light flickered on and off.
Li Fuqiu finally deigned to leave his black sandalwood chair and walked toward her. “Hey, can you tell me what it felt like to see that person last night?”
Gao Yuexing asked, “Are you curious?”
Li Fuqiu nodded openly. “I am curious.”
Gao Yuexing countered, “I’m curious too. Can you tell me first, what was it like for you to see that lady last night?”
The distance between them narrowed as they stared each other down.
In the end, neither was willing to back down first.
Gao Yuexing left the eastern side hall, her face tense. She had confirmed her suspicion.
Earlier, Gao Yuexing had intentionally referred to the woman from last night as “Lady” (娘娘).
Li Fuqiu hadn’t corrected her.
Thus, the woman in white was likely a consort in the palace.
But what business would a consort have dressing up as a ghost and lingering in the Xiaonan Pavilion?
On her way back to her room, walking along the eaves, Gao Yuexing caught a glimpse of a figure silently waiting at the door of the eastern side hall. She stopped and took a closer look. It was the elderly servant from Li Fuqiu’s quarters.
She always remained by Li Fuqiu’s side, her presence almost imperceptible.
Her posture was submissive enough, and her silence sufficient.
Gao Yuexing merely gave her a passing glance but made a mental note of her.
That late-night probing felt like a brief clash, and the two of them tacitly refrained from stirring the waters for a few days.
After a rainfall, the last remaining crabapple blossoms in the palace withered. The petals sank into the muddy earth, the weather grew noticeably colder, and even while seated in her bedroom, Gao Yuexing could hear the piercing wind.
On such a night, the Third Prince quietly snuck out of Jingmen Palace again.
He had barely taken a few steps past the palace gates when he suddenly sensed something was off and abruptly turned his head.
Gao Yuexing followed at a distance, neither too close nor too far. When discovered, she didn’t hide, maintaining an air of unflinching composure. She wore a slightly oversized short white fox-fur jacket. On the frame of a six-year-old girl, it appeared somewhat clumsy, but her movements were unaffected.
Li Fuqiu stood still and waited for her to catch up.
When Gao Yuexing reached his side, they walked shoulder to shoulder.
Li Fuqiu gave her a disdainful glance. “Your clothes are too conspicuous. What were you thinking, wearing white at night? Aren’t you afraid the palace guards will catch you?”
Gao Yuexing said nothing. Without a word, she removed the fox-fur jacket and held it in her arms. Beneath, she wore only a thin single-layer garment. The wind pierced through, making her look freezing just to behold.
Li Fuqiu, in a rare moment of civility, said, “You should put it back on.”
Gao Yuexing ignored him, stubbornly clutching the jacket in her arms.
The distance to the Xiaonan Pavilion was considerable.
Li Fuqiu led the way, deftly avoiding any patrolling guards who might cross their path.
Amid the silence, Li Fuqiu suddenly spoke. “Do you know why I asked the Emperor to give you to me?”
Gao Yuexing replied softly, “I don’t know.” Her voice was so faint it sounded almost like a sigh.
With his hands clasped behind his back, Li Fuqiu continued as they walked. “That day, outside the Wenhua Hall, I shot you with an arrowhead molded from wax. I thought you’d cry in fear, faint, or, at the very least, embarrassingly kneel and beg for mercy. But you didn’t. When you looked at me, your gaze made me suddenly feel… we are quite alike.”