Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Fu Zijing entered the palace with ease—far more easily than Li Xihua had ever managed.

Clad in black, mounted on a white horse, face wrapped in cloth, and long blade in hand, he announced himself as one surnamed Fu, a fourth-rank Commandant of the Imperial Equipage and husband of the State-Protecting Princess Minzhang, requesting an urgent audience with the Emperor and Empress.

That second identity hardly mattered. A blade and the surname Fu were enough to have the heavily guarded palace gates opened at night.

Within the palace, fear of the plague paled beside fear of the Fu clan turning against them.

Fu Zijing rode hard, passing through layer upon layer of forbidden gates straight into the inner court. With his tender wife no longer by his side, the fierce, murderous aura of this young commander who wielded significant military power could no longer be suppressed.

The Empress, flanked by guards and attendants, hurried over and stood on the steps looking down at him. She saw his lean waist and broad, powerful back, gripping his gleaming blade as he rode back and forth on horseback. When she arrived, he made no move to dismount and pay his respects.

Rage seethed within her—she wished she could order men to shoot him dead. Yet before this reckless man who had dared to enter the palace armed at night—an unpardonable crime tantamount to rebellion—she could not even muster a single word of reprimand.

"May I ask what urgent matter brings my esteemed son-in-law here at this late hour?"

Fu Zijing, cloaked in the night, eyes blazing like torches, looked up at the high steps and declared in a clear voice: "The Princess is ill. I have come to request an imperial physician to attend to her at the princess's residence."

"Naturally. I shall have the Chief Medical Officer and the most skilled physician, Senior Physician Wu, accompany you back to the Princess's residence." She turned and ordered her attendants to summon them at once.

While waiting, Fu Zijing asked, "Your Majesty hasn't even asked what illness the Princess has?"

The Empress clutched the carved dragon on the stone railing: "Need I ask? Though she is frail, she has never had any other illnesses."

"Since Your Majesty suspects it may be the plague, how can Your Majesty remain so calm? If the Princess has caught it, she has little chance of surviving."

The Empress finally wept: "What else can I do? I can only rely on the Chief Medical Officer to do his best."

"Even if I brought back ten imperial physicians, it would be no substitute for Your Majesty visiting her even once. If she were to die of the plague, would Your Majesty not have regrets?"

"What mother doesn't ache for her child? If I could, I would gladly take her place. But the Crown Prince is young, the Emperor needs care, and the court is beset by troubles both inside and outside. I must consider the bigger picture, and so I cannot stay by her bedside. If she resents me for it, let her. I truly have no other choice."

"Your Majesty may not know that even yesterday, when she was denied entry to the palace, she only grieved for the suffering common folk. She bore no grudge against Your Majesty for her own treatment."

"I know she is a good girl, but..."

Fu Zijing did not wish to hear more. He abruptly wheeled his horse around, his black robes merging with the thick darkness, much like his own dark mood. He refused to have any further conversation with the Empress on the high steps. If this was love, did it even need a reason?

He pitied her deeply.

The two physicians were summoned and knelt on the ground, saying: "Your Majesty, Commandant, there is no cure for the plague. For us to go to the Princess's residence would be certain death."

Fu Zijing said, "A night has passed, and the Princess has not vomited blood—only a persistent high fever. Yesterday she was caught in the rain and caught a chill. It may not be the plague."

The Chief Medical Officer quickly added: "If that is the case, then it's simple. I shall prescribe some medicine for the Princess to take."

"Can you prescribe medicine without even examining her—without taking her pulse, looking at her tongue, or asking about her symptoms?"

The Chief Medical Officer said weakly: "If it is a chill, boiling some scallion root and ginger water can drive out the cold. Even without medicine, given time, she should recover."

Fu Zijing laughed in fury: "A princess of noble birth must simply endure illness by waiting it out? Even a chill can be fatal—the Emperor himself..."

He spoke of the Emperor's grave illness brought on by a chill. The physicians paled, and the Empress's face went white.

Fu Zijing had left in a hurry without his cap, his hair tied high. Gone was the scholarly air that clothing and appearance lent him; what remained was the murderous intent forged through years on the battlefield.

From atop his horse, he looked down at the physicians, then looked up at the Empress. He slung his blade over his shoulder, his oppressive presence making every person in the hall tremble. He declared arrogantly: "Li Xihua is my wife, and the future mistress of Zhenzhou. If anything happens to her, all of Zhenzhou will not stand for it."

The Empress said, "My son-in-law is too impatient. Hua'er is a princess—there is no possibility that she would fall ill without a physician to attend her. The Chief Medical Officer has been on the imperial payroll for years, yet when trouble arises, he only knows how to hide. Lacking both a healer's compassion and a minister's loyalty, if he refuses to go, he will be executed." She ordered men to drag him forward. The Chief Medical Officer hastily kowtowed, begging for mercy, and swore he would go and treat her with the greatest care.

Fu Zijing then departed the palace with the two physicians. The Empress hurried a few steps down the stairs but dared not go further, fearing Fu Zijing might carry the plague.

She called out mournfully: "Son-in-law, take good care of her."

Fu Zijing did not look back. He sneered: "Your Majesty's words are wasted. She is my wife—I will naturally cherish her and care for her. From now on, Your Majesty need not trouble yourself over this person."

With that, he cracked his whip against the horse's flank. The palace's many gates opened wide once more, one after another.

Back at the Princess's residence, the two physicians entered the main eastern chamber trembling. Through the curtain, they used a silk thread to take her pulse for a long while, then said to Fu Zijing: "May we approach to observe her face, tongue, and throat?"

The Chief Medical Officer was terrified. Had it been the plague, he would never have dared approach the bed. Fu Zijing was already half-reassured. He grew more courteous, clasping his hands and saying: "A physician has no taboos. Please, go ahead."

The Chief Medical Officer stepped behind the curtain and examined her for a long time, nearly weeping with joy: "Commandant, the Princess is favored by heaven. She has caught a chill—it is only that the onset was so sudden that the fever has not broken. A few doses of medicine, proper care, and once the fever subsides, she will gradually recover."

"Thank you." Fu Zijing thought for a moment, then brought up the medicine he had earlier given Li Xihua, asking: "It won't do any harm to her body, will it?"

"Hmm... a small amount should be harmless."

After the Chief Medical Officer wrote the prescription and left, Su Jin joyfully prepared to brew the medicine. Fu Zijing called her back: "Keep a close watch on those two physicians. No need to send them back to the palace, but do not let them escape either."

Su Jin nodded solemnly: "Leave it to me, Commandant. Don't worry."

Fu Zijing looked at her doubtfully, but still waved his hand to dismiss her. Then he walked to the bedside, crouched down, and gazed at the deeply sleeping Li Xihua for a long, long time...

The sick always dream—and often have nightmares. Li Xihua was dreaming that Fu Zijing had succeeded in aiding Prince Qi'an's rebellion, holding his cousin, County Princess Xiyuan, in his arms, while she herself knelt begging him. He kicked her to the ground, saying cruelly and mercilessly: "Li Xihua, the only one I have ever loved is Xiyuan."

She wept in frustration: "We have shared a bed and been husband and wife for so long—can you just throw it all away?"

"What husband and wife? My wife is a princess, and you're not a princess anymore." He stepped on her, laughing: "Every day I spent with you, I was pretending. Now I am finally free. Go to hell, hahahahaha..."

She woke in a rage, opening her sore eyes. Fu Zijing was in the middle of taking off her clothes. She raised her hand and, as hard as she could, slapped him across the face.

Fu Zijing held his cheek, stunned. It took him a long moment to react before explaining: "You were sweating so much your clothes are soaked. I was helping you change into something dry. How could you think that of me? Am I really that lecherous? You always think the worst of me."

She would not let him dress her either. She curled up entirely under the blanket. After a moment, muffled sobs came from under the blanket.

Fu Zijing, baffled, tried to pull the blanket away. She found strength she did not know she had—he could not pull it, and no amount of coaxing could get her to come out.

"It's not that serious, is it? We've been intimate already. Crying over me taking your clothes off?"

"You're a bad man."

Fu Zijing looked at the small, trembling lump and said: "Wait here. I'll go fetch the physician. Maybe the medicine I gave you has scrambled your brain—no wonder the Chief Medical Officer was so hesitant."