Chapter 260: Recuperation

Chapter 260: Convalescence

Xiao Wu turned his head and pressed his lips together, but the spoon hovered stubbornly at his lips, as if it would stay there until he relented.

"Immortal Lord," the Pharmacist's voice sounded. "Your wounds are grave. You must take some medicine."

The tone was gentle, yet carried an unyielding edge.

"......"

Even if he refused, Xie Chunshan could make him swallow it.

Xiao Wu downed the bitter draft but frowned slightly. He truly couldn’t understand why Xie Chunshan was posing as a mere Pharmacist. If it was about showing kindness, his cultivation lay in ruins—there was no need to recruit him. If it was about testing medicine, he could’ve just forced it. For someone as esteemed as Palace Lord Xie, there was no need to stoop to this charade.

Lost in thought, Xiao Wu downed another bitter draft. Unprepared, the liquid went down the wrong way, and he pushed Xie Chunshan away, coughing into his hand.

Xie Chunshan didn’t so much as frown, only saying, "Take it slow, Immortal Lord."

He produced a silk handkerchief and gently wiped the corners of Xiao Wu’s lips, attending with undue care. Only after cleaning the stains did he offer another spoonful. "Be careful not to choke."

Xiao Wu’s lips trembled slightly before he ultimately turned his head away, his voice sandpaper-rough and stiff. "May I ask, 'Pharmacist,' what exactly is this medicine?"

His throat was scoured raw.

If Xie Chunshan wanted him to test medicine, Xiao Wu could oblige. Abandoned by his sect and rendered useless, being a lab rat was inevitable. But Xie Chunshan disguising himself as a Pharmacist to make him drink—what kind of game was this?

Did he find it amusing to keep Xiao Wu in the dark? Did he enjoy watching him gratefully swallow poison? Or was this some new form of torment?

Xie Shu: "It’s to regulate your body and nourish your meridians."

Xiao Wu lowered his eyelids, his face a mask of quiet derision. Half his face was hidden in the shadow of the bed curtains, leaving his expression unreadable. He repeated, tone ambiguous, "Regulate my body and nourish my meridians?"

Xie Shu: "Yes. Your constitution is too frail. Without some medicinal support, the pain will be unbearable."

Xiao Wu: "I don’t want to drink it."

Faced with Xie Chunshan, the enemy who had dragged him to the Demon Palace, Xiao Wu’s usual gentle demeanor vanished. His entire body went rigid as a blade, his tone icy and unyielding—all pretense of courtesy abandoned.

Xie Shu raised a brow slightly. "You don’t want to drink it?"

Xiao Wu closed his eyes and remained silent.

Upon closer inspection, his back was rigid, his neck half-buried in his collar. Under the shifting light, the tense lines of his neck and shoulders were visible, like a man awaiting the headsman’s axe—ready to endure torture.

Yet the man beside him showed no intention of violence. Instead, he lifted the medicine bowl and sighed. "If you won’t drink it, then don’t. This brew is too bitter. I’ll adjust the formula tomorrow."

Footsteps sounded as the scent of medicine gradually faded—he had truly taken the bowl and left.

In the tomb-like silence, Xiao Wu opened his eyes.

He still couldn’t see, the world before him pitch black, his eyes clouded with wary bewilderment.

Xie Chunshan—what fresh torment was this?

Another set of light footsteps approached—Xie Chunshan had returned. He picked up the spoon again, the spoon chiming against the bowl. "If you won’t take the medicine, will you at least eat this?"

Xiao Wu understood.

Another potion to endure, but the outcome would be the same.

Under absolute authority, struggle was meaningless and resistance futile. So when the spoon pressed against his lips again, he let it part his teeth and the contents spill in.

"..."

The taste of rock sugar and sweet almonds flooded his mouth, mingled with the fresh fragrance of barley.

Almond-barley porridge.

With the sweet porridge Xie Chunshan had given him in his mouth, it was harder to swallow than bitter medicine. Xiao Wu couldn’t bring himself to swallow or spit it out, just clenched his jaw to refuse a second bite.

Then Xie Chunshan asked, "What’s wrong? Did it go down wrong?"

Xiao Wu had no words to say.

So Xie Chunshan set the bowl and spoon back on the table, resting a hand on Lord Pingwu’s shoulder. Xiao Wu, still weak from illness, was easily turned over. Immediately, a warm palm pressed against his back.

Xiao Wu shuddered, gooseflesh prickling across his skin.

But the hand refused to relent, slowly stroking along his spine as if to soothe him. Xiao Wu was slender, his back especially thin, making it seem as though the hand had sunk past his skin to knead muscle directly, leaving him rigid.

Xie Chunshan remained oblivious, merely asking, "Are you feeling better, Immortal Lord?"

Xie Shu wasn’t playing the Mad Pharmacist today—since breaking character didn’t concern him—he acted as he pleased, far milder than his usual "Xie Chunshan" act.

This only made things worse for Xiao Wu.

He turned his head away, forcing down the porridge before collapsing against the bedside, coughing hard enough to wake the dead. The corners of his eyes reddened, tears pricking at the edges.

Xie Shu almost summoned Wu Buke again.

Fortunately, after a moment, Xiao Wu stopped coughing on his own. He shifted away from Xie Chunshan’s hand, moving deeper into the bed—the Palace Lord’s bed could easily fit several people. Xiao Wu scooted all the way to the edge and refused to budge further.

Xie Shu: "...You don’t want to drink it? That’s not acceptable."

Being this ill without food or medicine—even the toughest would collapse.

Xiao Wu turned his head away, his silence pure defiance.

"..."

Xie Shu studied him. Lord Pingwu’s face was pale, his lips bitten raw and bleeding—the only vivid color on his face.

With a sigh, Xie Shu took the barley porridge away. "Fine. If you can’t stomach it now, we’ll try later. It’s still early—the night’s not over. You should rest."

Xie Shu’s words only made Xiao Wu tense further. Earlier, while moving, he’d felt the bedding—all fine silk. The bed frame was solid sandalwood, faintly scented. The bed’s drapes gleamed with gold-and-silver embroidery. This was the demon palace’s main hall. This was Xie Chunshan’s bed.

And now Xie Chunshan expected him to sleep?

Xiao Wu could only think how absurd this was.

His bloodstained robes had been replaced with a light sleeping garment, the silk so thin it seemed weightless. It rode up to his thighs at the slightest shift, bare skin catching on the sheets. Xiao Wu’s toes curled involuntarily.

Then the beaded curtain rustled, followed by retreating footsteps.

The Wuwang Palace had no shortage of beds—Xie Shu had plenty of places to sleep.

As the door creaked shut, silence swallowed the room.

It was only the third watch, the entire palace swallowed by night. A few insects chirped outside; the water clock dripped beside the screen. Time stretched endlessly in the dark, and against the soft bedding, Xiao Wu’s vigilance finally wavered. His head on Xie Chunshan’s pillow, he turned sideways and slept.

After that, Xiao Wu stayed in the palace for several consecutive days.

Xie Chunshan brought him a bowl of medicine every day. Perhaps because he had refused it the day before, today’s medicine even had rock sugar added, diluting much of the bitterness. Xie Chunshan also brought a bowl of sweet congee daily. At first, Xiao Wu remained stubborn and refused to eat, but after enduring until he could no longer hold out, his jaw was forced open and the food was poured down. Later, he no longer needed Xie Chunshan’s intervention and ate on his own.

Yet Xiao Wu still couldn’t figure out Xie Chunshan’s intentions.

If this was supposed to be a test of poison, it had been a long time since he first drank the medicine, yet the poisonous curse never took effect. Instead, his wounds gradually closed and scabbed over, revealing new tender flesh after the old skin fell away. His severed meridians also improved day by day after the injury. If it was meant to be some kind of teasing or torment, Xie Chunshan merely held the spoon by his lips every day—neither urging him nor acting rough. Over time, this only left Xiao Wu completely baffled.

He didn’t understand Xie Chunshan’s intentions, and in the end, he stopped trying to figure it out. However, lying in bed for so long had made his back stiff and sore. One afternoon, after finishing his congee, Xie Chunshan casually handed him a handkerchief. After feeding him for so many days, the two had developed a quiet understanding. Xiao Wu wiped his face and was about to return the handkerchief when he suddenly heard birdsong outside the window.

Xie Chunshan casually pushed open the window, and sunlight spilled through the lattice. Xiao Wu gripped the blanket, feeling its warmth.

Then, Lord Pingwu spoke up suddenly: "May I ask, Pharmacist, if I might go out for a walk?"

It was an impulsive question. As soon as the words left his mouth, he fell silent again.

Why ask such a strange question when he knew full well that the Pharmacist was Xie Chunshan?

Xie Shu was unfazed. "Of course."

He had noticed Xiao Wu’s recent withdrawn and quiet demeanor, but considering that the "Pharmacist" had just given him an Art that caused his meridians to reverse, leaving him severely injured and coughing blood, it was only natural for Xiao Wu to be subdued. So he didn’t dwell on it and simply reached out to support him. "The Immortal Lord may be unsteady on his feet. Let me take you out for a stroll."

Xiao Wu paused, but since he was the one who had brought it up, refusing would seem odd. So he held out his hand and let Xie Chunshan take it.

It was grasped firmly.

Winter had just passed, and spring was beginning. Even in the territory of Wuwang Palace, there were faint signs of spring—new grass sprouting and birds singing. Xie Shu supported Xiao Wu as they strolled through the pavilion. Since Xiao Wu was a patient, Xie Shu naturally took extra care, keeping one hand at his waist and guiding him whenever he seemed to tire.

There was no need to force Xie Chunshan’s persona in front of a blind man, so Xie Shu walked with ease, even finding some leisure in admiring the flowers and birds.

After walking in slow circles for a while, Xie Shu saw nothing wrong with it—after all, this was no different from how hospital attendants had done it in his Previous Dynasty. But Xiao Wu grew increasingly stiff with each step. When Xie Shu’s hand brushed against his waist again, he sucked in a sharp breath and instinctively grabbed Xie Shu’s sleeve.

Xie Shu turned back, asking mildly, "Immortal Lord?"

Xiao Wu hesitated, then hesitated again. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Enough, Pharmacist. Let’s return."

Xie Shu was surprised. Xiao Wu wasn’t the fragile type—he shouldn’t have given up so quickly. So he said, "Patients need to move around. A proper walk will aid your recovery."

"......"

His tone was calm, as if soothing a petulant child.

For the first time in his life, Lord Pingwu didn’t know where to put his hands. His body was rigid, an odd sensation creeping over him, raising goosebumps all over his back. He stood frozen in place, stiff as a board.

Xie Shu: "Alright, let’s go back then."

He helped Xiao Wu return, but even though it had been Xiao Wu’s own request, once he was seated back on the bed, he only grew more uncomfortable.

Every part of him felt wrong, as if pins and needles prickled along his severed meridians, raising goosebumps all over his body, stiffening his shoulder blades and back into a rigid board. Dazed and disoriented, he also felt an inexplicable anger—though he didn’t know what he was angry about. He had been the one to ask for the walk, Xie Chunshan had obliged, speaking gently the entire time, yet he would have preferred curses and torture.

Weird.

Xiao Wu truly couldn’t stand Xie Chunshan getting close—every time he did, goosebumps prickled down his spine. Compared to this inexplicable treatment, he much preferred when Xie Chunshan had forced him to drink medicine.

During this time, Wu Buke and the Mad Pharmacist visited many times. Xie Shu told Xiao Wu they were "my friends from the medicine hall." Wu Buke and the Mad Pharmacist kept their heads down and went along with it.

The prescription was adjusted again and again. Xie Shu’s one rule was that before Song Xiaoyu’s timeline arrived, Xiao Wu had to be well enough to walk a hundred steps to the pavilion on his own.

This was an extremely important plot point—it couldn’t go wrong.

But the date was drawing near, making it nearly impossible. Wu Buke pulled his hair in frustration and, after pondering the Palace Lord's intentions for a long while, presented a prescription.

—"Palace Lord, there's a natural hot spring behind the mountain. If Lord Pingwu is allowed to take medicinal baths there, it could double the effectiveness."

Author's Note:

Lord Pingwu sighed: "..."

—Let's just stick with testing the medicine.