Chapter 93 “I’m in So Much Pain”

Chapter 93 "The Agony Is Unbearable"

Zhong Qin hadn’t expected such an unequivocal rejection, nor my unwillingness to even conjure a flimsy excuse. His face instantly clouded over, and his voice turned grim as he declared,

"Feng Jiuyue, you dare to refuse me repeatedly today—do you truly believe my medical skills are nothing special? Let me be clear: if there is a second person in this world capable of healing the Crown Prince’s legs, you may sever my head and use it as a footstool."

His words were exceptionally grave, leaving me no room for negotiation. My palms grew slick with anxiety. I could only lift my gaze, meet his eyes earnestly, and hastily explain,

"I harbor not the slightest doubt about your medical prowess. It’s simply that matters of the heart cannot be articulated in a few words. I genuinely do not wish for this—that is the honest truth. It’s not a reflection of your worth; there is simply no rational basis for it. I just cannot bring myself to accept."

"I apologize."

"Zhong Qin, though I’ve known you for merely a day, I hold you in profound admiration. You possess immense confidence in your medical skills—no one in this world can surpass your expertise. You are a maverick, choosing to live alone in the remote wilderness, unafraid of being perceived as an eccentric."

"As for me, I could never achieve such a feat. I am a very timid person. It was only after encountering my husband that I began to accept the reality of being a 'monster.' In the past, many tormented me, branding me a monster. I could never attain your level of carefree detachment."

"My heart is filled with both admiration and appreciation for you, but romantic affection is absent. For that, I am truly sorry."

Having spoken, I glanced up at the darkening night sky. I had been out for a considerable time and wondered if Xie Yan had eaten properly.

His stomach is delicate; eating too late could trigger his gastric issues. The thought intensified my anxiety. Xie Yan is far more astute than I, and better equipped to make decisions. It would be more fitting for him to handle this matter with Zhong Qin.

"Zhong Qin, I’ve been out for quite a while. I must return now. Perhaps fate will allow us to meet again." As I spoke, I turned to leave. Zhong Qin remained frozen, still processing my words.

"Wait!" He finally roused himself and seized my hand, his eyes sparkling as he asked, "Do you truly believe I am so remarkable?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Every word was sincere."

"Alright then!" Zhong Qin declared, as if bestowing a great favor. I didn’t quite grasp his meaning and tilted my head, asking, "Alright what?"

"Ah, you blockhead," Zhong Qin muttered with exasperation, as if tempted to knock some sense into me. Seeing me raise my hand to ward him off, he awkwardly rubbed his nose and said sullenly, "I will go to the Crown Prince’s residence tomorrow. As for the rest, we shall discuss it later."

"Okay, thank you so much," I smiled at him.

Zhong Qin simply gave me a deep, resigned look before turning and disappearing into the night breeze. His wide sleeves billowed, making his figure appear slender and solitary. I stood there for a moment, watching until he vanished into the darkness, then pursed my lips and headed back.

True to his word, Zhong Qin arrived the next day while Xie Yan and I were having our meal. He joined us for breakfast and, during the meal, meticulously explained the treatment process.

The treatment would span seven days, with one hour each day dedicated to medicinal baths. The intensity would gradually escalate, beginning with a mild stinging sensation and culminating in the agony of bones being shattered. Only after enduring the seventh day could the subsequent phase commence.

"It is advisable to have someone present during the treatment," Zhong Qin instructed gravely.

Frowning, I asked anxiously, "I will remain by his side throughout, but are there any inherent dangers?"

"In that case, might I trouble you, esteemed physician, to also oversee the process here? I fear that should any unforeseen complications arise, my ignorance might lead to mishandling and impede His Highness’s recovery."

In stark contrast to my extreme apprehension, Zhong Qin and Xie Yan remained perfectly composed. Zhong Qin chuckled softly before elaborating in detail,

"The primary reason for accompaniment is the excruciating pain of the treatment. I am concerned the patient might inadvertently bite his tongue. We wouldn’t want him to lose his life before his legs are healed, so someone must be present to monitor him. It would be best to prepare a few handkerchiefs as well."

After a moment of contemplation, he added, "Beyond that, there are no other significant risks."

A heavy burden lifted from my mind.

The initial seven days of treatment proceeded relatively smoothly, largely due to Xie Yan’s extraordinary endurance. I could see cold sweat drenching his forehead as he sat immersed in the medicinal bath. Despite the sweltering summer heat and the steaming water in the tub, his sweat was icy. He gritted his teeth, uttering not a sound, only letting out a low, heavy groan when the pain became utterly unbearable.

Worried that his cold sweat might indicate a problem, I went to inquire with Zhong Qin. But Zhong Qin merely smiled, not even pausing his meticulous preparation of medicines, and stated calmly, "This is quite normal. When pain surpasses a patient’s threshold, it triggers physiological responses. Cold sweats are among these reactions."

"However, the Crown Prince is someone I truly admire," he added leisurely as he continued to adjust the medicinal properties. After a pause, he continued, "None of the patients I’ve treated have possessed his level of resilience. To maintain such composure under such extreme pain, without uttering a single sound—it is truly remarkable."

"All my other patients have screamed from the first day to the seventh. You may not have experienced it, so you cannot fathom this agony. Let me tell you, it is akin to having the sinews within your flesh repeatedly torn apart and re-stitched. To endure such pain—indeed, the Crown Prince is no ordinary man."

I had always known Xie Yan was in immense pain. My eyes had been sore and swollen these past few days. Rather than watching him endure it silently, I yearned for him to roar and vent his feelings. That would at least offer a distraction. His silent, stoic suffering wasn’t just tearing apart his legs—it was also shredding my bleeding heart.

Today was the seventh day.

Summer nights are always particularly cool. The cicadas chirped noisily in the trees outside the window, and a cool breeze drifted into the room, dispersing the steam. A large bathtub stood in the center of the room, filled with dark, pungent, bitter-smelling water, as if steeped with a full tub of traditional Chinese medicine. When I leaned in to smell it, I noticed the scent was far more intense than in previous days—not just slightly stronger, but exponentially more potent, signifying a proportionally greater increase in pain.

Xie Yan wore only a thin white undergarment. From the moment he sat down, his complexion had been unusually pale, like bloodless parchment. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his temples throbbing, and the veins on his slender neck bulged prominently, like a fierce beast mercilessly subdued.

I wrung out a warm cloth and tried to gently wipe the cold sweat from Xie Yan’s forehead as I had done before. But there was too much sweat. As soon as I finished wiping, I saw Xie Yan’s hair was drenched, and beads of sweat continued to trickle down like tiny, nimble insects. His lips were deathly pale and had begun to tremble.

This was a situation I had never encountered before.

In the preceding days, Xie Yan had remained remarkably composed, and his perspiration had not been as profuse. He always sat upright, enduring the pain silently with unwavering strength. But today was an anomaly. His entire body leaned helplessly against the tub, and the trembling of his lips was involuntary—a physiological reaction.

His eyelashes fluttered twice, and tears began to fall continuously into the water. Yet, there was no trace of sadness on his face. Instead, he gritted his teeth fiercely, the muscles of his jaw tightening until they bulged slightly.

Xie Yan had never used a handkerchief before. I couldn’t persuade him, so I let it be. But today, his body, submerged underwater, began to tremble violently, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

I knew it was the human instinct to avoid harm. The pain was so intense that his body reacted before his mind could, urging him to escape the agonizing bath.

"Ah!" A painful roar erupted from Xie Yan’s lips. His eyes were bloodshot from the pain, filled with crimson streaks. His lean arms thrashed, splashing medicinal water everywhere. At that moment, Xie Yan resembled a beast gone mad, yet he remained more restrained than most, not crying out to be freed from the tub.

"Feng... Jiu... Yue..."

He called my name hoarsely and painfully, his gray eyes brimming with tears like a clear, sorrowful cold spring. In his delirium, he flailed his wet hands as if trying to catch a butterfly about to fly away.

"Xie Yan, Xie Yan, I’m here, I’m here."

I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind and grasped his flailing hands, deliberately lowering my voice to whisper in his ear,

"I’m here with you. I won’t leave. Does it hurt, Yan? If it hurts, bite my hand."

"Feng Jiuyue, Feng Jiuyue, Feng Jiuyue," Xie Yan kept calling my name, as if the pain was unbearable. Even his usually calm voice had grown hoarse and weak. I held his neck tightly, and his hands gripped me fiercely. Amid increasingly labored and painful breaths, he suddenly let out a roar—like a cornered eagle's final cry—"The agony is unbearable."

So he had been in pain all along.

My heart ached so much I could barely breathe, as if countless hands were clutching it, suspending it high in the air.

Glittering droplets fell from Xie Yan’s cheeks onto our intertwined hands. I heard him gasp heavily from the pain, his sharp teeth grinding together with a grating sound. "Xie Yan, you must not bite," I urged.

But in that instant, Xie Yan opened his mouth and was about to bite down hard on his tongue. Panicked, I slipped my finger into his mouth to stop this self-destructive act. But he bit down with such force that my finger was pierced by his sharp canine teeth. The metallic taste of blood spread between us, and droplets of blood fell into the tub, disappearing into the dark, murky medicinal water.

Thank goodness I reacted in time. Otherwise, he would have bitten his tongue. I thought dizzily, from blood loss, my vision filled with shimmering, illusory light spots.

I’ve always been afraid of pain. Normally, even a minor bump would make me cry. But this time, I didn’t shed a tear. If I could bear this suffering for Xie Yan, I would do so ten thousand times over. But since I couldn’t take his place, I could at least endure the pain and tears alongside him, like inseparable conjoined twins.

To me, these marks of pain were more like badges of growth.

Xie Yan is brave, strong, and resolute. Chasing his light, I gradually drew closer to him. Even if Xie Yan bit off my finger today, it would be a mark of my atonement—proof that I had brought him undeserved suffering and that I had walked alongside him on this difficult path.

But the pain didn’t last long before Xie Yan interrupted it. Summoning his strength, he gave me a disapproving look, and with trembling hands, he pulled my finger from his bloody mouth. Even in his semi-conscious state, he patiently licked the wound on my finger, like an injured puppy still caring for its owner.

From my angle, I could see his trembling eyelashes, his tall nose bridge, and a gentle tongue. Why is he always so tender with me, even after all the wrongs I’ve done?

"Don’t be foolish. Just stay by my side."

"Xiao Qiu."

After saying these two words, Xie Yan stuffed his mouth with a cloth. His fingers gripped the edge of the bathtub tightly, the thick pine wood creaking incessantly under the strain. It seemed he had only enough strength left to breathe. His eyes gently closed, thick lashes fanning over his lower eyelids, and unconsciously, he tilted his head to lean on my shoulder—a posture of deep, clinging tenderness.

Looking at his haggard complexion, the dark circles under his eyes, and his pale lips, I felt the urge to cry again. But Xie Yan hadn’t cried; his tears were just an involuntary physiological response to the pain. I couldn’t afford to be so weak—I needed to be calmer than him, to become his support. If I, who wasn’t suffering, cried more bitterly than him, wouldn’t that only burden him further?

Thinking this, I blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears welling in my eyes, and shifted all my attention to the incense stick on the table, used to time the session. Once this stick burned out, Xie Yan could finally step out of the tub.

The night wind toyed with the candle flame on the table like mischievous hands. My eyes grew sore from staring, and tears threatened to fall. Just then, the last wisp of smoke rose—the incense had burned out. Relieved, I grabbed Xie Yan’s arm and helped lift him out of the water.

The attendant had been waiting outside for a long time. Hearing the commotion, he hurried in to help me support Xie Yan.

After drying Xie Yan off and changing him into clean clothes, I rushed to the front courtyard to find Zhong Qin.

“Hmm, the bone has healed quite firmly. The recovery is progressing well,” Zhong Qin said, as he pulled down Xie Yan’s trouser leg with a bright smile, clearly pleased with the condition of the calf.

Only then did the knot of anxiety in my chest loosen.

Zhong Qin took a sip of tea before continuing to outline the next phase of treatment. He pointed to a wooden device nearby—a walking aid, somewhat similar to a tool used to help toddlers learn to walk.

“Next, Your Highness must learn to stand on your own. You’ll practice for one hour each day—no more. Exceeding that will overburden your calf.”

“However, there’s one thing I must emphasize: you only have one month. Once the calf has healed, you have just one month to learn to stand.”

Here, he paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over both of us as he said sternly, “If, by the end of this month, your calf still cannot support you in standing, then I’m sorry to say—you’ll be one of the unfortunate twenty percent.”

Xie Yan tried incredibly hard. I’d never seen anyone more determined. He never rested, even when his knees were bleeding profusely from repeated falls. His calves and knees were covered with a dense web of wounds.

At times, I couldn’t bear to watch and wanted to urge him to rest. But whenever I saw the light fading from his eyes, I swallowed my words of concern.

I had a vague feeling that this was Xie Yan’s last chance. Yet, as time passed, a terrible dread seized me. Today was the final day of the month, and so far, Xie Yan had not managed to stand even once.

This realization filled me with despair that chilled me to the bone.

A Note from the Author:

Just to clarify why Xie Yan shed tears without actually crying—when a person is in extreme pain, physiological tears can flow uncontrollably. This isn’t considered crying but rather the body’s stress response to unbearable agony. My heart just aches for the poor guy.