Ji Wujing propped himself up and first got out of bed to light the lamp before walking back to the bedside. He bent over, lifted a corner of the quilt covering Gu Jianli, revealing her upper body clad in only a thin, tea-colored bellyband. Because Gu Jianli had to apply medicine to the rash on her body every two hours, dressing and undressing her would irritate the rash and make her even more uncomfortable. Therefore, Ji Wujing didn’t let her wear nightclothes, only a small bellyband and short underpants.
Gu Jianli’s once porcelain-like, soft white body was now covered in rashes and scars. It not only lacked any beauty, but was even somewhat frightening.
Ji Wujing carefully inspected Gu Jianli’s arm.
“There’s nothing on the arm, where is it? Legs or lower back?” Ji Wujing said as he pulled the quilt further to expose her legs.
“No…” Gu Jianli whispered, raising her hand to grasp Ji Wujing’s sleeve, gradually tightening her grip on his snow-colored sleeve.
Ji Wujing looked up at her in surprise, seeing her red, tearful eyes.
“Crying from pain again? Can’t you show some resilience? Even Xinglou wouldn’t cry from pain,” Ji Wujing teased her.
“No…”
Ji Wujing sat sideways on the bed, his bent index finger brushing across her nose, smiling, “Gu Jianli, can you say anything besides ‘no’?”
Gu Jianli slowly said, “A scholar can be killed but not humiliated. I’d rather die standing than live kneeling…”
“What nonsense are you talking about? Are you delirious from the fever?” Ji Wujing leaned over, pressing his palm against Gu Jianli’s forehead, “It doesn’t feel hot.”
Gu Jianli looked at Ji Wujing, thinking that being sick was truly bad, even stripping her of her dignity.
Gu Jianli saw her disheveled, pale self reflected in Ji Wujing’s eyes. She didn’t like seeing herself this way, turned her head, and whispered, “I need to change my pants…”
Ji Wujing spread Gu Jianli’s legs and saw the red stain on her white underpants. Before he could speak, Gu Jianli hurriedly said, “You’re not allowed to find me troublesome! You’re not allowed to talk nonsense! And you’re especially not allowed to say annoying things to upset me!”
Ji Wujing raised his eyelids and looked at her flushed face, asking, “Anything else I’m not allowed to do?”
Gu Jianli thought for a moment and, feeling even more guilty, whispered, “You’re not allowed to look…”
Ji Wujing chuckled softly, lazily saying, “If I cover my eyes and can’t see, then I’ll have to touch blindly.”
Gu Jianli looked at him pitifully and pleaded, “Don’t bully a sick person…”
“So troublesome, I don’t want to bother anymore.” Ji Wujing drawled lazily, yawning as he lay down beside Gu Jianli, even closing his eyes.
Gu Jianli turned her face, looking at Ji Wujing’s face just inches away. She reached out and gently pushed him, not saying anything, just giving him a light push.
She had no strength, and even the light push tugged at the wound on her arm, causing great pain.
Ji Wujing opened his eyes, looking at Gu Jianli’s teary eyes. After a moment, he got up and covered her with the quilt again to keep her from catching a cold. He patted her head and said, “Wait, uncle will go boil hot water for you.”
Gu Jianli’s face blushed even deeper, her thoughts wandering. She nodded absentmindedly, but her gaze had already shifted away, not daring to look at Ji Wujing.
At this hour, everyone was asleep, and naturally, there was no hot water prepared; it had to be boiled now.
Ji Wujing left the room and headed to the small kitchen. To his surprise, he saw the study where the imperial physicians researched smallpox still lit, casting a warm yellow glow. The silhouette of a slender woman was visible against the carved lattice window. It could only be Luo Muge.
Retracting his gaze, Ji Wujing went to the kitchen, lit a fire, and set the water to boil. He then turned and went to the study.
Pushing open the study door, he leaned lazily against the doorway and said, “It’s late.”
Luo Muge, not expecting anyone to come by so late, was slightly surprised by the sound of the door. She looked up at Ji Wujing standing at the door and nodded lightly, “Senior brother, you’re still awake at this hour.”
“Boiling hot water for her,” Ji Wujing said, walking into the room.
Watching Ji Wujing approach, Luo Muge felt a mix of regret and anger. She had known Ji Wujing since childhood and was aware of his cold and ruthless nature. Yet, over the past few days, she had watched him tirelessly care for that child and Gu Jianli.
It turned out he could take care of others.
“How is the research going?” Ji Wujing asked, now at the table, his gaze falling on the book in front of Luo Muge. He glanced casually and saw the character “gu” (poison).
The book Luo Muge was reading late into the night was not about smallpox.
When Ji Wujing saw the pages, Luo Muge felt a moment of panic, but it was fleeting. She calmly said, “I’m not researching how to cure smallpox. I’m studying the poison in senior brother’s body.”
What did it matter to her how dangerous smallpox was? What did it matter if everyone in the capital died?
Luo Muge’s face was calm, her gaze steady.
These days, Ji Wujing had been coming by several times a day to check on the progress of the imperial physicians. He even personally read the medical books on smallpox. Everyone in the capital was focused on smallpox. But Luo Muge noticed that her senior brother’s complexion was worsening. He had been using acupuncture to suppress the poison several times. She knew that unless they developed an antidote for the Heart-Eating Powder, all the poisons were just temporary measures to prolong his life.
What good was it to extend his life if it couldn’t return him to his peak condition?
She wanted to see the day her senior brother was cured, free from the burden of poison and gu, fully restored to his former glory.
Gu Jianli lay in bed, staring blankly at the canopy above. Earlier today, while she was half-asleep, she overheard the imperial physicians discussing—the maid who first contracted smallpox in the residence had died today.
For the first time, Gu Jianli felt the acute sensation of death approaching. She watched her body wither and rot. Facing sudden danger, she could face death fearlessly. But waiting to die from an incurable disease felt awful. Fear, coupled with unwillingness.
She missed her father, her sister, her family, but to avoid worrying them, she had hidden her smallpox infection from them. Would she die without seeing them one last time? Die alone in the Marquis of Guangping’s residence? She really hated this place. If she survived, she would move out without hesitation.
Gu Jianli thought of Ji Wujing again, empathizing with him more deeply. He must feel the same, watching his body wither, waiting for death, powerless to stop it.
“Creak—” The door was pushed open.
Gu Jianli turned her head but did not see Ji Wujing. She paused, lowering her gaze, and saw the small figure of Ji Xinglou.
“Xinglou? Why are you here?” Gu Jianli asked in surprise.
Ji Xinglou’s bright eyes darted around, and he let out a sigh of relief, though he tried to appear nonchalant. “You haven’t come to see me next door for two days. I came to check if you’re dead.”
Gu Jianli frowned, as she had started to dislike the word “dead.” However, seeing Ji Xinglou walk over still made her happy.
“Xinglou can walk now,” she said softly, a slight smile forming on her lips.
Ji Xinglou slowly limped to the side of Gu Jianli’s bed, his steps uneven due to the severe pustules on his left leg, causing him great pain.
“You’re crying? How pathetic,” Ji Xinglou rolled his eyes.
He wanted to reach out and wipe Gu Jianli’s tears, but when he raised his hand and saw his small bandaged hands, his eyebrows furrowed instantly. The mittens on his hands were hastily sewn by Gu Jianli a couple of days ago, to prevent him from scratching his rashes.
Ji Xinglou had seen a similar mittens on the hands of a toddler, a few months old. He was not happy and frowned, “Hurry up and get better to take these off! You put them on, so you must take them off!”
Just as he finished speaking, Ji Xinglou suddenly felt dizzy and plopped down on the floor.
“Xinglou!” Gu Jianli exclaimed.
“What are you shouting for? I’m fine!” Ji Xinglou, with his mittens, tried to push himself up from the ground. But walking from the next door had drained much of his energy, and just as he raised his little butt, his leg gave out, and he fell back down.
He grumbled to himself, let out a heavy grunt, and tried to get up again.
Ji Wujing came in carrying hot water and saw Ji Xinglou with his hands on the floor, his butt sticking up as he tried to get up. Ji Wujing placed the wooden basin full of hot water by the bed and then picked up Ji Xinglou.
No matter how tough Ji Xinglou acted in front of others, he immediately quieted down once in Ji Wujing’s arms. Ji Wujing, without saying a word, carried him back next door. Ji Xinglou, lying on Ji Wujing’s shoulder, turned his head and made a face at Gu Jianli.
For the first time in her life, Gu Jianli imitated Ji Xinglou and made a face back. Ji Xinglou was dumbfounded.
Ji Wujing put Ji Xinglou on the bed, felt his forehead, and said, “Don’t run around.”
Ji Xinglou obediently nodded. He asked, “Why is she worse than me? Will she…die?”
“Be good and go to sleep,” Ji Wujing tucked him in.
Ji Xinglou stopped talking and obediently closed his eyes. He believed that Gu Jianli wouldn’t die. Beautiful people don’t die so early. He wouldn’t die early either because he was also beautiful.
Ji Wujing returned to the next room and saw Gu Jianli staring dazedly at the wooden basin beside the bed. She slowly looked at Ji Wujing and tentatively asked, “Can I not wash?”
Ji Wujing looked disgusted, “Gu Jianli, aren’t you dirty?”
Gu Jianli pouted pitifully.
Ji Wujing sat by the bed, lifted the quilt off Gu Jianli, and carefully removed her underpants, taking care not to touch the pustules on her legs.
Gu Jianli’s hands, resting at her sides, slowly gripped the bedding tighter. She sniffed, feeling that Ji Wujing’s gaze was like a form of torture. He had seen her before, but those times were just fleeting glances. This time, it was so humiliating.
Ji Wujing gently held Gu Jianli’s leg, lifting and spreading them apart carefully. With just one look, his gaze tightened momentarily before he quickly averted his eyes. He wrung out the cloth placed in the hot water and began to clean the bloodstains from Gu Jianli’s legs.
Gu Jianli couldn’t quite articulate her emotions—was it grievance, embarrassment, or humiliation? Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She picked up the silk handkerchief by the bed and covered her face with it.
Ji Wujing glanced at her and asked, “Is this the proverbial ‘covering one’s ears while stealing a bell’?”
Gu Jianli sobbed softly, “Don’t talk!”
Ji Wujing placed the blood-stained cloth into the basin to rinse it, his gaze falling on his own hands. His movements paused involuntarily. To think, Ji Zhao, who had killed countless people and whose hands were stained with blood, would one day be cleaning a woman’s behind.
