Chapter 45

Chapter 45

“What condition?”

Wu Haiqiong grew slightly nervous—especially since Gao Zhen truly had the upper hand over him. If he disobeyed the doctor’s instructions, the acupuncture would be excruciatingly painful. His greed for food and his fear of pain were both glaring weaknesses—he couldn’t handle either.

Gao Zhen almost laughed at Wu Haiqiong’s expression but suppressed it, keeping his face stern. “My condition is simple: during your treatment, you must report to me precisely what you’ve eaten each day. If you sneak food behind my back, I’ll stop treating you—and, naturally, I won’t bring you any treats either.”

“What treats are you planning to give me?” At the mere mention of something delicious, Wu Haiqiong’s eyes lit up instantly, and he gazed at Gao Zhen with eager anticipation.

“One hard-boiled egg per day.”

Gao Zhen calculated that asking He Shurong to boil a few eggs daily should be feasible—but he wasn’t entirely certain, so he dared not overpromise and conservatively settled on just one.

Boiled eggs were easy to carry and inconspicuous; he could bring one to Wu Haiqiong to prevent him from rummaging around indiscriminately. As the weather warmed, the grounds of the Cold Palace would sprout wild grasses and edible plants—and there was no guarantee Wu Haiqiong wouldn’t dig up some inedible herb one day, undoing all progress made in his treatment.

“Every day?” Wu Haiqiong couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even mind that it was only one egg—he immediately grabbed Gao Zhen’s sleeve to confirm. When Gao Zhen nodded, Wu Haiqiong was so overjoyed he literally began dancing. “I knew it! Master Gao, you’re the best! I’m absolutely thrilled! Hahaha!”

“Don’t tell anyone else about this,” Gao Zhen hastily instructed. “If they find out and start asking me for eggs too, I can’t possibly feed the entire Cold Palace.”

Of course, being unable to afford it *now* didn’t mean he never would—but Gao Zhen couldn’t say that aloud. Life in the Cold Palace was unpredictable; no one could foresee what the future held.

Wu Haiqiong nodded vigorously, assuring him, “Don’t worry, Master Gao—I may not excel at much, but I *can* keep secrets. My mouth is sealed tight—impossible to pry open.”

“What’s impossible to pry open?”

They could hear Wu Leren laughing from afar. “What’s the occasion for such joy?”

Several voices came from the doorway—it was Qin Lelang, bringing the others along.

“Lelang” and “Leren” were official ranks for male consorts in the Inner Court: “Lelang” denoted an eighth-rank position (zheng bapin), while “Leren” indicated a deputy eighth-rank post (cong bapin). These titles remained valid even in the Cold Palace, as their demotion there did not strip them of their formal ranks.

Seeing them arrive, Gao Zhen quickly summoned them to line up for pulse diagnosis and acupuncture. As he immersed himself in work, the earlier conversation faded from memory. The others didn’t mind either—mainly because, upon seeing Gao Zhen, each seemed bursting with things they wanted to share. That was hardly surprising: anyone who had resigned themselves to waiting for death in the Cold Palace, only to be suddenly pulled back from the brink and granted renewed hope, would inevitably experience profound shifts in perspective—daily.

Gao Zhen listened patiently, smiling warmly whenever they spoke. With consummate professionalism, he played the role of an ideal listener.

After several days of acupuncture under Gao Zhen’s care, everyone’s health improved markedly, and their spirits lifted significantly. The most visible changes included smoother skin, brighter complexions, livelier steps, and increasingly positive dispositions. Many chronic ailments had also miraculously resolved during this time.

These transformations felt nothing short of miraculous to them—and they were deeply grateful to Gao Zhen. Some even believed his good fortune had rubbed off on them.

Because of this, they all eagerly sought closer contact with Gao Zhen. The moment they heard he was visiting Wu Leren’s quarters, they rushed over—hoping to absorb more of his auspicious influence. To them, Gao Zhen was no longer merely a physician but nearly a benefactor—a figure they instinctively longed to be near.

Yet they remained unaware that, as he treated them, Gao Zhen’s own body was undergoing extraordinary changes. For instance—

Immediately after completing Wu Haiqiong’s acupuncture session, a wave of coolness surged from Gao Zhen’s heart, spreading through his limbs and bones—exquisitely soothing.

He had no idea what it was, though he suspected a connection to the system. Yet when he queried the system, it remained silent—leaving him no choice but to set the matter aside—for now.

Wu Haiqiong used to change his trousers twice daily. After two acupuncture sessions with Gao Zhen, he now changed them only once every two days. But his improvement paled beside Qi You’s—the most dramatic transformation of all. Previously covered in oozing, foul-smelling sores, Qi You—after several days of meticulous cleaning and care from Gao Zhen—no longer emitted any odor, and all his sores had scabbed over. Some scabs had already fallen away, revealing fresh, rosy skin beneath.

Qi You found it unbelievable—the healed sores hadn’t even left scars. It seemed that within a few more days, his face would fully regain its former appearance. It was nothing short of miraculous.

As a result, whenever Qi You saw Gao Zhen these days, his eyes brimmed with gratitude and admiration. Yet Gao Zhen couldn’t bear that look. The moment he noticed Qi You staring, he’d immediately remind him, “Don’t forget about my embroidery.”

Qi You was both amused and exasperated—but utterly powerless to respond.

Gao Zhen merely winked playfully and returned to work.

By the time Gao Zhen finished treating everyone that day, evening had already fallen. Strangely, despite working nonstop all day, Gao Zhen felt no hunger whatsoever. Waves of coolness—like ripples spreading across still water—floated layer upon layer through his limbs and bones, lulling him into such deep comfort that he squinted, savoring the sensation.

It felt *that* good.

As satisfying as a lavish feast.

In reality, he hadn’t eaten a thing all day.

This sensation was truly miraculous. Gao Zhen desperately wanted to understand why—but even the system stayed silent. It seemed he could only wait for the mystery to reveal itself in due time.

Still, Gao Zhen was in high spirits and couldn’t wait to share his joy with someone. Yet when he pushed open the gate to his small courtyard, he recalled the firm declaration he’d made that morning: *“I’m giving the Ninth Prince the silent treatment for the entire day.”* How could he possibly share anything now?!

The smile froze instantly on his face.

Then, quietly, he told himself that if the Ninth Prince came to speak with him later, he’d reluctantly respond—pretending the morning’s words had never been uttered, letting them vanish like a dream.

Gao Zhen locked the courtyard gate and noticed the unusual silence. He paused briefly, then pushed open the doors to the other rooms—only to find the Ninth Prince absent. He sighed in relief—but also felt strangely adrift.

Pursing his lips, he stood by the water barrel. While drawing water, he deliberately made a racket. Sure enough, halfway through washing his face, he heard movement atop the wall. Gao Zhen pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a smile, waiting for the Ninth Prince to speak first—planning to reply reluctantly, pretending his earlier harsh words had been nothing but a dream.

He washed his face agonizingly slowly—splashing water on the left temple, then the right ear—taking forever to actually wash his face. Yet, after dragging it out for so long, the expected sound of someone scaling the wall never came. Sensing something amiss, he glanced up sharply—only to find the wall completely empty.

Gao Zhen froze. Had he imagined it? Impossible! So the truth was—Ninth Prince had come, taken a look, and simply left?!

How *dare* he?!

Was *this* the attitude of someone claiming he wanted to marry him? If he couldn’t even coax someone properly, what was the point of marriage? Absolutely not! This is infuriating!

Furious, Gao Zhen splashed cold water onto his face and strode inside, face stern.

He resolved to uphold his word—today, he would truly ignore the Ninth Prince.

Late that night, half-asleep, Gao Zhen felt something brush against his face. He swatted at it—it felt oddly firm—and bolted upright in alarm.

“Who’s there?” Gao Zhen spotted a dark silhouette and scrambled up, startled.

“Did I frighten you?”

It was the Ninth Prince’s voice. Gao Zhen relaxed.

Muttering inwardly, *So you finally decided to come back,* he remembered his bedtime vow—to truly ignore him. He meant every word. So he immediately lay back down, hugged the quilt tightly, rolled over, and presented Zhou Yunning with his back.

“A Zhen, it’s past midnight. Can we talk now?”

That meant everything. Gao Zhen snapped fully awake. So the Ninth Prince hadn’t been avoiding him—he’d simply taken his words literally, waiting until *after midnight* to visit?!

Gao Zhen’s heart softened instantly. Still facing away, he lifted the edge of the quilt slightly—his meaning unmistakable.

The Ninth Prince smiled, recognizing forgiveness in that small gesture.

He swiftly removed his shoes and socks and slipped into bed.

They’d shared a bed before—under one quilt, with him holding him close. It was the same now—the Ninth Prince slid beneath the covers and drew Gao Zhen into his arms.

Gao Zhen complied willingly—though his heart pounded fiercely, his ears burned hot, and he felt far more nervous than ever before.

“A Zhen,” the Ninth Prince whispered softly near Gao Zhen’s ear, his warm breath brushing Gao Zhen’s skin and searing straight into his heart. His voice was low, tender—and pleading. “Don’t be angry anymore. Okay?”

Gao Zhen thought: *I stopped being angry long ago—you just took too long to give me an opening.* But better late than never. Seizing the chance, Gao Zhen turned over—his peach-blossom eyes locking directly onto the Ninth Prince’s. His expression was serious as he asked, “So… will you still bully me?”

Zhou Yunning was puzzled and asked, "How have I been bullying you?"

Gao Zhen was instantly hurt and said angrily, "Not even in my dreams are you allowed."

Zhou Yunning froze for a moment. Whoa, he finally understood where he went wrong. So, A Zhen had a dream—wait—

At that critical moment, it suddenly hit Zhou Yunning. So, Gao Zhen washed the bedsheet last night because he had bullied him in the dream. As for how he bullied him, he didn't need to think hard to imagine!

A spring dream caused all this trouble.

Zhou Yunning couldn't help smiling at the thought of being one of the protagonists in that dream. Luckily, it was dark in the room, and Gao Zhen couldn’t see it clearly, or he'd definitely be mad again.

After waiting for a long time without a response from Ninth Prince, Gao Zhen prompted him in a small voice, "Did you hear me or not?"

"Okay. Anything you say, A Zhen." As he spoke, he inched closer little by little.

Feeling him approach, Gao Zhen stiffened completely, not daring to move a muscle. His warm breath brushed against his face, getting closer and closer. Scared, Gao Zhen closed his eyes, both expectant and nervous.

The heat of his breath stopped just an inch from his lips, hovering without moving further.

Zhou Yunning reined himself in at the last moment, stopping just in time. The mantra for calming the mind automatically replayed in his head. He thought with frustration—they weren’t married yet. If he acted so impatient, wouldn’t it seem too frivolous?! He couldn’t treat A Zhen like this. Given Tutor Geer’s identity, A Zhen already lacked a sense of security. If he acted so recklessly, it would only make A Zhen more vulnerable.

That wasn’t what Zhou Yunning wanted.

"I will marry you."

In the end, Zhou Yunning only said these words before pulling back. After a moment’s thought, he directly lifted the quilt, got out of bed, took a brand-new thin blanket from the wardrobe, and lay back down to sleep.

Gao Zhen curled up under the covers, quietly watching him do all this, sensing the gravity from Ninth Prince.