Chapter 47 Empathy

Chapter 47: To Feel as One

As another wisp of morning light streamed in and gently settled on Jiang Yanzhou's pale eyelids.

Beneath the quilt, his bloodless fingertips twitched.

Consciousness returned, yet his eyelids remained leadenly shut. His vision was filled with swirling, overlapping patches of light and shadow, as if seen through a pool of murky, rippling water.

His mind was hazy: Where was this? How had he gotten here?

Jiang Yanzhou's thoughts were still a chaotic mess, occasionally flickering with fragmented, kaleidoscopic images. He wondered vaguely: Is this the road to the underworld? At other moments, a sliver of clarity would surface, and a voice from somewhere would ask: Have I encountered another transmigration?

Even in his muddled state, he never considered the possibility that he might still be alive.

When he drew the blade across his throat, he truly believed he was certain to die.

The self-defense knife was very sharp. If not for his hand being fatigued from the ride, and Academician Zhang Hanlin's last-moment collision, he would have had no chance of returning.

In his daze, Jiang Yanzhou instinctively tried to turn his head and nuzzle against something. His cheek met a patch of warmth.

Something soothingly stroked his cheek. It felt very comfortable. Jiang Yanzhou's brows and eyes relaxed, and he quieted contentedly.

When he finally opened his eyes and saw Xiao Yunlang's face so close, he stared blankly, unable to process it.

It wasn't until fragments of memory surfaced and sank, piecing together a complete picture, and the past came rushing back, dispelling the emptiness in his gaze, that Jiang Yanzhou remembered where he was.

He hadn't descended to the underworld, nor had he transmigrated again. He was still in Daqi.

By Xiao Yunlang's side.

Though on a battlefield, Xiao Yunlang wasn't the commanding, heroic figure Jiang Yanzhou had imagined. He looked exhausted, haggard, his eyes bloodshot, his gaze filled with pain.

Only when he saw Jiang Yanzhou wake up did a light suddenly ignite deep within them.

But it was still heavily suppressed by a layer of gloom.

Jiang Yanzhou had seen the spirited, confident Xiao Yunlang, the awe-inspiring Crown Prince of Daqi. But he had never seen Xiao Yunlang look so utterly dejected.

Having just returned from the brink of death, Jiang Yanzhou already felt as if a lifetime had passed, unsure of the present. When his eyes first reflected Xiao Yunlang's image, he almost didn't dare recognize him.

What happened? Why is His Highness like this?

Anxious, he tried to sit up, opening his mouth to speak, but could only manage a faint breathy sound. The pain in his neck arrived belatedly.

"Don't move. The wound on your neck can't take any strain." Xiao Yunlang pressed him down. When he spoke, his voice wasn't much better than Jiang Yanzhou's incoherent sound.

But at least Xiao Yunlang could still form words.

"To stop the bleeding quickly, we used a strong medicine on your wound. You probably won't be able to speak for about a month. Let me change your dressing first."

Xiao Yunlang's second sentence was still hoarse, but almost calm. He raised his hand and slowly began unwrapping the bandage.

Jiang Yanzhou was deeply worried, but could only lie still obediently, his gaze following Xiao Yunlang's movements.

As the cool ointment was applied, every slight movement of Jiang Yanzhou's throat brought pain. He let out a muffled groan, discomfort reddening the corners of his eyes.

"I blended in pain-relieving ingredients. Does it still hurt?" Xiao Yunlang asked. "You can signal with your hand."

It did hurt.

But Jiang Yanzhou reached a hand out from under the covers and gave a small shake, telling Xiao Yunlang: It doesn't hurt.

Xiao Yunlang looked at his response, his movements pausing almost imperceptibly, then continued wrapping the bandage without a word.

After finishing the dressing change, he sat by the bedside, looking down at Jiang Yanzhou. His forehead hair cast shadows over his deep-set features, the whole man seeming submerged in thick ink that even light could not escape.

Jiang Yanzhou hurriedly reached out a hand. He wanted paper and inkbrush to write his words. He wanted to ask what was wrong with Xiao Yunlang.

"You want to ask why I look like this, don't you?"

Jiang Yanzhou couldn't nod, so he just blinked once.

"Jiang! Yan! Zhou!" Xiao Yunlang's low, hoarse voice finally shattered completely. "I told you I feared you getting hurt, feared you suffering. I composed poetry for you. I even kissed your forehead."

"And then you almost died."

Xiao Yunlang's heart felt like it was bleeding profusely. "Yet you wonder why I'm like this."

At Xiao Yunlang's words, Jiang Yanzhou's eyes widened bit by bit. He seemed to realize something, his fingertips trembling slightly.

"You care about me, you care about Liu Hexuan, but you don't believe that I care about you."

Xiao Yunlang asked, "When you chose to die, what were you thinking? Did you think of yourself? For even a fleeting moment, did you think of those left behind?"

Jiang Yanzhou was stunned.

He wanted to say: I wasn't seeking death. I was trying to save people.

There was no other way at that time.

The mounted bandits might have killed Liu Hexuan and the others quickly. To speak of saving them, there truly seemed no other method. But Jiang Yanzhou wasn't actually in a hopeless situation.

Other hostages could die, but no one dared harm the Crown Princess. If he survived as a hostage, buying some time, waiting a little, perhaps there would have been a turn of events.

But he so decisively slit his own throat, simply not treating his own life as important.

So Jiang Yanzhou certainly hadn't thought of himself.

As for whether he thought of others...

He had.

He thought of Liu Hexuan being safe, and... he thought of Xiao Yunlang.

In the instant he cut his neck, although he lost consciousness soon after, leaving very little time for final thoughts...

For a brief moment, what he thought wasn't whether he could give Xiao Yunlang an explanation, whether he was being fair to him, but a simple surge of reluctance.

...He hadn't yet seen Xiao Yunlang in armor.

Seeing Jiang Yanzhou's stunned expression, Xiao Yunlang suddenly slid a self-defense dagger from his sleeve. Before Jiang Yanzhou could even react, he pressed it against his own neck.

The silvery blade reflected Jiang Yanzhou's horrified face.

A hoarse cry of alarm tore from Jiang Yanzhou's throat!

He struggled frantically, reaching out desperately to grab Xiao Yunlang. But Xiao Yunlang, holding the knife with one hand, could still pin Jiang Yanzhou down with his other arm, preventing him from pulling at his wound.

Jiang Yanzhou's pupils contracted sharply. He didn't understand why Xiao Yunlang was suddenly doing this. He wanted to shake his head but couldn't move; he tried with all his might to speak, but opening his mouth only produced mournful, breathy sounds.

Unable to reach the knife, he could only cling to the arm Xiao Yunlang was using to pin him down, squeezing out the last bit of strength from his weakened limbs.

Don’t, don’t—Jiang Yanzhou’s eyes reddened at the corners, pleading silently with his gaze for Xiao Yunlang to lower the knife, pleading—

Xiao Yunlang’s blade swept across his own neck.

The choked plea in Jiang Yanzhou’s throat abruptly cut off. In that flash of cold steel, he felt his heart plummet to the ground and stop.

A massive shock froze him solid, leaving him unable to move for what felt like an age.

Only when Xiao Yunlang tossed the knife aside did he see Xiao Yunlang’s neck, completely unharmed.

The knife clattered to the floor. Jiang Yanzhou’s limbs went weak, and he nearly forgot how to breathe.

He gasped for air several times, clutching at Xiao Yunlang’s arm helplessly, as if grasping a lifeline, like someone nearly drowned in a blizzard, his eyes red at the corners, his thin lips trembling, gazing at Xiao Yunlang with such a fearful, pitiful look.

Xiao Yunlang’s own eyes were gritty with fatigue. Jiang Yanzhou had slept for two days, and during those two days, Xiao Yunlang had hardly closed his eyes.

“How did that feel just now?” Xiao Yunlang asked hoarsely.

Jiang Yanzhou’s limbs trembled. The starlight that always seemed to linger in his eyes gradually misted over with a thin haze. His beautiful eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

He was terrified.

In that instant, Jiang Yanzhou understood what it meant to feel gut-wrenching agony.

He drew a soft, shaky breath. Xiao Yunlang brushed the hair from his forehead. “These past few days, I’ve been crushed by that feeling over and over again.”

The Crown Prince of Daqi, the future emperor of the ages, clasped his fingers. Their shared fear and trembling passed through their joined hands, striking fiercely against each other’s hearts, aching right down to their bones.

It was the first time in Xiao Yunlang’s life he had ever begged someone.

“…Jiang Yanzhou, I beg you to look after yourself. Don’t so easily cast aside your life again. If you have no other thoughts, then just… take pity on me, alright?”

Jiang Yanzhou’s heart gave a slow, heavy thump.

He felt bewildered and distressed, clutching Xiao Yunlang’s sleeve tightly, unwilling to let go.

He cared for others, and he knew Xiao Yunlang was good to him. But the instincts carved into him from childhood, his wounds, made him dare not hope—dare not hope that someone in this world could truly care for him without weighing gains and losses.

So whenever someone showed him a little kindness, he repaid it a hundredfold, yet never asked them to continue being good to him. He only wished he could occasionally watch them from afar.

No one had ever been this good to him.

No one had ever pierced his heart so directly, making him feel, “I care for you more than you imagine.”

Xiao Yunlang—the Xiao Yunlang whose back he only wished to silently admire—turned around without hesitation, casting aside his pride and lowering his head before him.

All just to beg him to be good to himself.

Jiang Yanzhou suddenly felt a sharp, sudden pain. Somehow, his vision began to blur. His vision swam, so he panicked and tightened his arms around Xiao Yunlang even more. His eyelashes fluttered, and something warm silently slid from the corner of his eye.

Then, someone’s finger brushed past his eye.

“…Why are you crying?”

Jiang Yanzhou looked up dazedly: Am I crying?

But, but Your Highness, your voice sounds more like it’s the one holding back tears.

Jiang Yanzhou’s eyes were misty with tears. The dam broke, and tears fell like broken strings of pearls, wetting his dark lashes and reddening the long, delicate corners of his eyes.

He cried silently. His heart had not yet fully shaken off the dust, but even just a crack was enough for this body, numbed for over a decade, to cry for itself for the very first time.

Xiao Yunlang stayed with him, wiping away his tears over and over, the moisture staining deep marks on his sleeve.

Jiang Yanzhou had just woken up and was already weak. After crying, he was utterly exhausted, body and mind. His eyelids grew heavy, drooping again and again. But when he felt Xiao Yunlang’s arm begin to gently withdraw from his embrace, his heart clenched, and his eyes flew open wide, his hand clutching Xiao Yunlang’s sleeve.

“I’m going to get you something to eat,” Xiao Yunlang said. “Eat a little before you sleep.”

Jiang Yanzhou pressed his lips together. His fingers twitched several times before he finally, anxiously, slowly released his grip.

Xiao Yunlang didn’t let anyone see Jiang Yanzhou’s tear-stained face. He went outside to bring food. Jiang Yanzhou wasn’t fit for food that required much chewing now, so he could only have some soft gruel or broth.

Xiao Yunlang held a bowl and fed him some.

The warm food settled in his stomach, making Jiang Yanzhou feel much better, but sleepiness surged over him even more powerfully, weighing his eyelids down until he could barely keep them open.

Xiao Yunlang leaned closer and touched his forehead.

“Now that you’re awake, I must leave for a while.”

Jiang Yanzhou’s hand reached out into the air. Xiao Yunlang caught it and gently rubbed his fingertips.

“The Marquis of Zhenxi and I will launch a two-pronged attack, simultaneously assaulting two cities of Yarong. I’ll be back in seven days at the latest.”

Jiang Yanzhou let out a soft, indistinct murmur.

Xiao Yunlang’s hand slid down from his forehead to cover Jiang Yanzhou’s eyes. “Sleep, Niangui. Remember, giving you this courtesy name means someone is waiting for you to come home. When you’re better, I want to hear you promise me with your own words.”

Promise me you’ll never again torment the person I hold in my heart.

Soft eyelashes brushed against his palm. Xiao Yunlang waited until Jiang Yanzhou’s breathing steadied before moving his hand away.

He watched Jiang Yanzhou for a while longer, then roughly wiped his own face, blinked his aching eyes, and stood up to leave.

When Mu Baicao came rushing to find Xiao Yunlang, he was washing his face. Hearing Mu Baicao’s panting, he wiped his face and turned.

“Your Highness, something major—”

Mu Baicao met his bloodshot eyes, sucked in a sharp breath, and halted mid-step.

“You… are you alright? Do you need me to check your pulse?”

Help! Why does Xiao Yunlang’s gaze look even more terrifying than usual?

Xiao Yunlang tossed the towel aside, averted his gaze, and began putting on his arm guards and belting on his sword. “What is it?”

Only then did Mu Baicao snap out of his lingering fear and remember the urgent matter, exclaiming again, “It’s terrible! It’s that Hanlin Academician Zhang! The broken bone fragments injured his internal organs! I wondered why his condition was so poor. Today he suddenly looks like he’s on the verge of death. Most likely, a fragment shifted and pierced deeper.”

Xiao Yunlang’s hand paused. Bone fragments piercing internal organs—even Mu Baicao would be powerless to save him. But he still glanced at Mu Baicao.

Mu Baicao waved a hand. “I’ve done my best. At most, I can keep him clinging to life for a few more days. But… he’ll be in agony every day, merely dragging out a feeble existence.”

Xiao Yunlang fell silent, turned, and headed toward Hanlin Academician Zhang’s room.

Although Zhang was under suspicion, he had been carried back severely injured and couldn’t be held in a prison cell, so they had prepared a clean, tidy room for his treatment.

Before Xiao Yunlang even entered the room, he heard the sound of violent coughing inside and caught the metallic tang of blood in the air.

Liu Hexuan stood in the room and turned around. He hadn't slept much these past few days either and was equally exhausted. He performed a bow and said, “Your Highness.”

Xiao Yunlang: “Niangui is awake.”

Liu Hexuan finally allowed himself a faint smile. “That’s good.”

But when he turned to look at Hanlin Academician Zhang, his expression became troubled once more.

Academician Zhang couldn’t sit up—no one knew whether moving might drive the bone fragments deeper. To avoid choking on the blood he coughed up, he could only tilt his head to the side, though it didn’t help much.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and tears streamed from his eyes as he coughed. He was shrouded in an air of despair and death.

“Y-Your Highness, cough, cough, cough!”

Xiao Yunlang’s face was a cold mask. “You’re dying. Still nothing to say?”

Academician Zhang wept tears of blood. “My… my family… and, cough… it’s been so long, the evidence must be gone by now. Speaking up… would be pointless. The traitor to the nation… the humiliation through the ages… I can’t bear it either. I only beg Your Highness to grant me death, cough, cough!”

As he coughed, he wept again, his chest heaving like a broken bellows. Anyone could hear the terrible rattling within. Not a flicker of emotion showed in Xiao Yunlang's cold, ruthless eyes. “You studied the teachings of the sages, yet in the end, you aided foreign enemies. You may not be from wealth, but yours is a family of good name. Will you let your family's generations of integrity be destroyed by your own hands?”

Academician Zhang’s chest heaved even more violently. “I… I… ah…”

Xiao Yunlang looked at him and suddenly said, “Ziyu, stay. Everyone else, leave.”

The others obeyed and filed out. Xiao Yunlang drew his blade, its cold edge pointed directly at Academician Zhang.

“What you say next will not be recorded in any confession, nor will you be forced to sign it. If you survive the next few days, you will suffer day and night in agony, dying a wretched death. If you want a swift end, I can grant it to you.”

Academician Zhang coughed violently, looking at him with desperate hope.

“And your family,” Xiao Yunlang continued. “Once you’re dead, harming them would be superfluous. You can rest assured—I can even arrange for someone to see to their welfare.”

“Just tell me: who did you leak the transport route to?”

A moment later, Xiao Yunlang and Liu Hexuan emerged from the room. He flicked his blade, splattering a long streak of blood on the ground.

Mu Baicao flinched, unable to resist the urge to glance back into the room.

Liu Hexuan stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t look.”

Mu Baicao stopped then, following Xiao Yunlang and Liu Hexuan as they walked away. The bodyguards entered the room to begin disposing of the body.

Xiao Yunlang mounted his horse, preparing to gather the troops at the military camp. He said, “I’ll return in seven days at the latest. Please keep an eye on Niangui in the meantime. Feng Lan won’t be able to arrive from Ganquan Pass for another two or three days. Spend time with him during the day—it’s fine even if you don’t speak. Just being around him is enough.”

“Don’t leave him alone.”

Liu Hexuan: “I’ll bring my work to his room. I can even read to him.”

Since Mu Baicao needed to check Jiang Yanzhou’s pulse daily, he would be there anyway.

Once he had arranged everything, Xiao Yunlang tightened the reins and galloped away.

Dust rose in the wake of the horse’s hooves. Mu Baicao squinted, tucking his hands into his sleeves and fidgeting with his fingers. After a long pause, he asked, “Did the Academician confess anything?”

Liu Hexuan: “Yes.”

Mu Baicao: “Oh.”

He didn’t press further. “Remember to apply medicine to the bruise on your waist.” That injury had been inflicted by mounted bandits during the capture. Fortunately, it hadn’t damaged any internal organs or bones.

“I’ll go check on the Crown Princess Consort. I’ll take my leave now.”

Liu Hexuan: “Alright.”

After Mu Baicao left, the bodyguards soon carried out Academician Zhang’s body, covered with a cloth. Liu Hexuan stood watching, bidding him a final farewell.

Earlier, Academician Zhang had haltingly recounted half his life.

He had served in the Hanlin Academy for many years without any hope of promotion. Growing anxious, he had wanted to attach himself to a powerful family but lacked the connections.

This time, the Prince of Jin had extended an olive branch, offering to arrange for him to accompany the mission to the borderlands. Finally, he could achieve something tangible, something to present during the next official evaluation, giving him hope for a promotion.

Moreover, the Prince of Jin had offered both a carrot and a stick, reminding him to consider the safety of his family.

The former he could struggle with—if his conscience couldn’t bear it, he could still refuse. But the latter… protecting his family from the Prince of Jin’s reach was nothing but a delusion.

So, in the end, he had agreed.

He successfully joined the transport team and leaked the route to the Prince of Jin.

He had thought the Prince of Jin would at most cause some trouble for the Crown Prince. Never had he imagined he would collude with Western mounted bandits, betraying the nation and aiding the enemy.

The Prince of Jin had acted so ruthlessly. Academician Zhang was also part of the transport team—if he died along with them, it would be the simplest solution. If he survived, it didn’t matter either. First, he wouldn’t dare speak out for fear of his family. Second, the Prince of Jin had indeed destroyed all evidence.

If he did speak, it would only be Academician Zhang slandering him without proof.

Liu Hexuan clenched his fingers slightly.

Earlier, when His Highness had drawn his blade, the overflowing killing intent had been directed thousands of miles away—toward the capital.

The Prince of Jin.

Xiao Yunlang’s robes fluttered fiercely in the wind as he galloped, like a sharp blade cleaving through the dust and clamor.

Colluding with foreign enemies, inviting wolves into the house, committing treason.

For the suffering Jiang Yanzhou had endured on this journey, Xiao Yunlang would make the Prince of Jin pay with his life.