Chapter 27: Administering Medicine

Chapter 27: Administering Medicine

Ying Shi could never forget the fragments of her childhood.

Those ethereal, almost dreamlike yet identical scenes of her younger years.

Her father was an extraordinary man, a handsome and dashing scion of a noble family. In those days, numerous women wished to marry the young master of the Ruan family in Chen Commandery.

The Ruan master was scholarly and ambitious. At eighteen, he entered the imperial court as an official, carrying on the legacy of his ancestors. His career soared smoothly, and by his early twenties, he had become an envoy with an imperial staff.

He traveled to various regions on behalf of the court, building alliances with heroes from all walks of life. Later, he became sworn friends with Liang Ji's father, leading to a betrothal between their families.

In the third year of Yuanhe, her father was promoted to the position of Deputy Governor of Pingzhou. However, due to frequent border conflicts in Pingzhou, shortly after taking office, he encountered a rebellion. Her father died defending the city, and her mother, steadfast in her devotion, followed him in death by taking her own life.

Their sacrifice and deep love for each other became a legend often recounted, evoking admiration and respect.

Yet, for Ying Shi, they were merely cruel—what kind of parents would abandon their young child?

Ying Shi was only about three or four years old, perhaps even younger, an age when she remembered nothing.

She could not recall even the slightest memory of her parents.

All her impressions and hearsay about them came from others.

When she was young, Gui Niang often told her how much her parents loved her.

"The firstborn daughter, a pearl in the palm."

"Your father would hold you every day before leaving, reluctant to let go. They say indulging a child is like killing them, but your father wouldn't listen."

"And my mother? Was she good to me?" Young Ying Shi would ask, her lips curling into a smile, her eyes full of hope as she looked at Gui Niang.

Gui Niang would smile and say, "Of course, she carried you for ten months and endured a day and night of labor. How could she not be good to you? But your mother wasn't as indulgent as your father. If your father was the kind parent, your mother had to be the strict one, or else you would have been utterly spoiled."

Little Ying Shi, round-faced and round-headed, would always giggle when Gui Niang spoke of her parents, closing her eyes and imagining them still by her side.

Sometimes, Ying Shi harbored profound bitterness towards them, resenting their heartlessness. She didn't want a heroic father or mother.

She would have preferred her father to be a peddler or a humble servant, even a coward who fled in the face of danger, as long as they were alive.

Not like this, with the three of them parted by death.

They left behind their names and reputations, but left her to endure hardship alone in the world.

Yes, Ying Shi felt she had suffered greatly. She never knew what it was like to be loved by her parents.

Gui Niang cherished her deeply; without a mother, Gui Niang became her mother.

But it was never quite the same as a mother-daughter relationship.

Gui Niang's affection was often hidden, mindful of their hierarchical relationship. She would never act in a way that was inappropriate for her status.

When Ying Shi was young, she didn't feel different from others, nor did she feel she lacked anything. Life was fine in its haphazard manner.

But that year, when Ying Shi saw her aunt holding her newborn cousin, smiling with tender affection.

She realized that the same aunt who had been so strict with her, never allowing her to make a single mistake when teaching her manners, could also be so affectionate, gently nuzzling her cousin’s cheeks.

Even if her cousin's drool stained her new clothes, even if her cousin wasn't particularly good-looking and wailed incessantly, her aunt couldn't bear to scold her even once.

Whenever her uncle came back from court, he would lift her cousin high in the air.

That’s when Ying Shi suddenly realized what it felt like to have a father and mother...

Her aunt wasn’t her mother, and her uncle wasn’t her father.

She could only sneak a peek at the happiness of other families from the shadows.

Later, as Ying Shi grew older, she stopped thinking about these things that made her unhappy.

She was fixated on marrying Liang Ji as soon as she could.

She refused to envy others anymore.

Surely, she could have her own happiness...

Surely, if her parents had not passed away, she would have been no less happy than anyone else...

...

Her illness struck suddenly, and by midnight, she was burning up with fever.

The sudden fever was a bad sign. The house physician was called, but he could not enter the inner chamber to diagnose her. He could only ask the maids about her symptoms from outside, then quickly wrote a prescription and instructed the maids to brew the medicine and bring it in.

Even in her sleep, Ying Shi gritted her teeth, her body drenched in cold sweat. She couldn’t swallow any medicine and kept mumbling nonsense.

The maids were terrified by her condition, and even the house physician had never encountered such a situation.

Even Chun Lan and Xiang Yao wondered if the lady had run into a ghost in the cave that day and lost her soul!

The garden was in an uproar. If it weren’t for the emperor’s eye and the duke’s residence, Gui Niang would’ve gone out at midnight to try soul-retrieving rituals.

They could only strip her outer clothes and keep wiping her down with a wet cloth.

The curtains trapped the heat and humidity.

In her haze, Ying Shi thought the noise around her was deafening.

A familiar scent drifted to her nose, cool as an autumn breeze, dispersing the heat from her body.

Someone slipped through the gauzy curtains and leaned over her—

She lay on a soft, fragrant silk mattress embroidered with delicate wisteria, covered with a quilt of begonia red, water green, and smoke-colored satin in five colors. The soft, bright colors were a stark contrast to her usual plain clothes, almost merging with her youthful, graceful body and beautiful face.

The hand reaching for her was bony but surprisingly strong. The fingers pinched the cheeks of the girl lying on the fragrant pillow with closed eyes, squeezing the soft flesh of her cheeks, causing her face to ache terribly.

Ying Shi was extremely uncomfortable. She let out a muffled groan, trying to move her chin to break free from the grip, but she couldn’t resist the increasing force.

Her full lips were pressed together, her face flushed, and finally, a gap appeared between her teeth.

In the next moment, warm liquid was gently poured into her mouth.

The medicine dripped into her mouth, most of it sliding down the corners of her lips.

It was bitter, astringent...

The sleeping girl frowned tightly. She hated this taste, hated it so much...

She tried to shut her mouth, but the person held her cheeks open, no matter how hard she struggled. In her dazed state, Ying Shi could only use her tongue to desperately press against her lips and teeth, refusing to let the medicine pour in.

As always, no matter how it was poured in, the medicine was mercilessly spat out, not a drop left.

She certainly had the knack for it.

Failure followed failure.

She simply couldn’t drink it, not a single drop.

He patiently fed her spoonful by spoonful, only for her to spit it all out.

She was feverish, her consciousness slipping further into haze, her face flushed, yet her skin was pale, strikingly white in the dimly lit room with only a few candles burning.

Even the blue veins at her temples and the faint pink at her neck were starkly visible.

In the next instant, the man was relentless, his cool fingertips pressing against her scorching lips, gliding over her teeth, smooth as grains of rice, his hand continuing inward until his fingertip pushed aside her resisting tongue, pressing against her teeth.

Liang Yun held the bowl with one hand, the other gripping her sharp chin, pressing against her lips and tongue, and with a determined effort, poured the dark medicine down her throat.

Once again, it was to no avail.

Unlike men, her body was soft, lacking any firmness. Liang Yun dared not use force, and if he moved too quickly, she would cough continuously, tears clinging to her lashes, dripping down onto the pillow.

This couldn’t be rushed.

Liang Yun had to pace himself, feeding her sip by sip. After much coaxing, the ailing girl began to accept it, accepting the bitter smell.

Resistance was futile—

She reclined against the scented pillow, sipping little by little with his movements, holding the bowl he brought to her lips, swallowing the dark medicine drop by drop.

Though much still dribbled from the corners of her mouth, onto her fair, upright chest, rising and falling with her breath.

At last, the bowl of medicine was almost drained.

"Mmm..." Unexpectedly, as soon as his hand left, the feverish girl began to moan again.

Her delicate brows knitted, her nose crinkled, her face full of pain as she whimpered softly.

Liang Yun made to leave once the medicine was administered, but Ying Shi's eyes fluttered open, her eyes, misty and red from the fever, her consciousness hazy as if drunk.

She gazed at him, her almond eyes brimming with reproach, her red lips trembling. She didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared at him.

As if gazing at him, or perhaps—through him... at someone else.

Liang Yun's brow creased, his demeanor noticeably cooler. He had no desire to engage with her in her delirious state; he had given her the medicine, and whether she improved was up to her own fate.

If the fever had truly addled her mind, then so be it—

As he mused on her foolishness, she indeed gazed up with a vacant look, breathing heavily, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her face, craving the coolness of his palm.

Observing her condition, Liang Yun inquired with concern, "Can you understand me? Where else do you feel unwell?"

Her state today was markedly peculiar.

"It hurts here," Ying Shi murmured, her voice faint, as though adrift on clouds, drifting, drifting, into his ear, spiraling in.

Liang Yun's hand, hidden beneath his sleeve, tightened imperceptibly. He looked down into her eyes, unsure if the child was awake or if her fevered brain was already speaking nonsense.

"Where does it hurt?"

Ying Shi suddenly reached out with her soft fingers towards Liang Yun, gesturing towards her pale chest.

With a thick nasal voice, she sobbed like a child, saying, "My heart hurts..."

"What should I do? My heart aches so much..."

...

"Had we known the Third Madam wasn’t attempting suicide, the Duke wouldn’t have hurried over so frantically. Assisting her in such a rush, and tomorrow the courtyard will buzz with gossip about the Duke visiting the rear courtyard, it won’t look good..."

The night was cloudy and moonless, stiflingly humid.

The ice in the icebox had long since melted.

Liang Yun went back to his courtyard to bathe and change, and when he came out, he was met with Zhang Ping’s endless sighs.

It was worse than just looking bad?

A brother-in-law visiting his ailing sister-in-law late at night, it wouldn’t reflect well if it got out.

Who knows what rumors outsiders might start!

Though Zhang Ping grumbled, he knew deep down this was unavoidable.

Earlier, when news arrived from the rear courtyard, he too felt anxious. Earlier that day, the young madam had tried to take her own life, and by nightfall, she suddenly fell gravely ill. Who could tell if she’d taken some poison or swallowed gold in despair?

The Duke had only one brother, and with him gone, he already owed a debt to his sister-in-law. Now that she was threatening suicide, who else could he trust to check on her if he didn’t go himself?

Zhang Ping muttered on, pondering how to resolve this for his master. Turning around, he found his master seated by the candlelight, expressionless.

After bathing, Liang Yun changed into a snow-white undergarment and sat spotlessly by the window in the candlelight. The sky was almost dawn, but he showed no intention of resting.

Liang Yun's mind was filled with her voice.

Her words of complaint to him.

"My heart hurts..."

"What should I do? My heart aches so much..."

Did Liang Ji's death really make her so sad?

So sad that she wanted to kill herself...

Liang Yun lowered his eyelids, gazing at his hand in the dim candlelight. On the knuckle of his index finger was a faint red bite mark.

This was bitten by that little dog when he was feeding her medicine.

It didn't hurt, but it was extremely itchy.

A tingling, endless itch, itching deep into his heart.