Sunlight streamed gently through the windows of Zhaixing Pavilion. Zhuo Qing lay upon the bed, unable to find words to describe her emotions.
Beside her, Lou Xiyan softly blew on the spoonful of herbal medicine. Only when it had cooled sufficiently did he bring it tenderly to her lips, his clear eyes brimming with affection as he gazed at her. At such a moment, even poison would be sweet.
Suppressing a silent groan, Zhuo Qing opened her mouth once more and swallowed the bitter medicine. She knew he meant well, personally feeding her each spoonful, and it was said this particular decoction had been specially formulated at his request, mild in bitterness.
Yet, accustomed to Western medicine, she still found herself on the verge of madness. As much as she enjoyed his attentive care, the taste was unbearable.
When Lou Xiyan brought the spoon to her again, Zhuo Qing simply took the entire bowl from his hands and drained it in one gulp. Though it scalded her tongue and was unpalatably bitter, short pain was better than prolonged agony.
Two large glasses of water later, she finally managed to suppress her nausea. Lou Xiyan looked on, half amused and half helpless. Pretending not to see his expression, she asked,
"Aren't you terribly busy lately? How do you have the time to stay home all day?"
She had been bedridden for three or four days now. Though he hadn't stayed by her side every moment, he appeared without fail at her thrice-daily medicine times, denying her even the chance to sneak the medicine away.
Lou Xiyan took the empty bowl and set it on the low table with a perfunctory response:
"Sick leave."
"Sick leave?" Zhuo Qing chuckled, choosing not to press further. Instead, she asked with great interest,
"I heard you fought the Eastern and Western Empress Dowagers in the Imperial Garden? What a shame I missed your moment of wrath."
Xiyu had visited her recently and recounted the event with great flair, painting Lou Xiyan as a lone hero battling demonic forces. Though Zhuo Qing didn't take her words entirely to heart, it was clear that Lou Xiyan had indeed been incensed that day.
Lou Xiyan looked slightly exasperated. "You really wanted to see that?"
Zhuo Qing nodded with a laugh. "As long as the rage isn't directed at me, I'm rather curious to witness it."
Ignoring her teasing, Lou Xiyan gently pulled up the thin quilt and tucked her in with quiet affection.
"Lie back and rest a little more."
It was midsummer—she wasn't that fragile! Zhuo Qing shook her head, throwing the quilt aside and replied,
"It's been days. I know a bit of medicine myself—there are no residual symptoms. You don't need to worry."
She had complied with every treatment, fully aware of the risks of post-drowning complications like bronchitis or pneumonia. But after so many days, she felt well enough and didn't want to remain bedridden.
Sweat glistened faintly on her brow, and Lou Xiyan didn't insist further.
"In the coming days, should the Empress Dowager summon you to the palace again, simply ignore it."
Zhuo Qing raised an elegant brow and smiled. "Wouldn't that be defying an imperial decree?"
"Until our marriage, you'll be 'gravely ill,' bedridden and unable to respond," Lou Xiyan said, pointedly emphasizing "gravely ill."
Zhuo Qing understood immediately and smiled knowingly. "Understood."
She had no desire to return to the palace. After recent events, she doubted she could face those two old women with composure—best not to see them at all.
Thinking of how Xiyu told her Qingfeng had wept until her eyes were swollen when she fell into the water, Zhuo Qing quickly said,
"Could you send a message to Qingfeng and let her know I'm fine? I don't want her to worry."
Though she didn't share a sisterly bond with Qingfeng, the girl had always treated her with sincere kindness, and Zhuo Qing was genuinely touched.
"I've already sent word," Lou Xiyan reassured her.
That day by the lotus pond had been utter chaos. He, too, had been filled with anxiety, yet he hadn't missed the hatred in Qingfeng's eyes. He had a strong feeling this woman would never meekly accept humiliation. In the cruel arena of the palace, such a nature meant she would either trample others beneath her feet or be broken completely—neither outcome was desirable.
Zhuo Qing, unaware of his musings, was focused on another matter.
"Have you found out who tried to kill me?"
Lou Xiyan froze. "You knew?"
He had assumed that, unable to swim, she had blacked out the moment she fell in.
Zhuo Qing nodded. Her expression turned cold at the memory of that underwater struggle.
"I can swim. I even dived down to inspect the underwater stakes—it wasn't disrepair that caused the collapse. Someone held me under deliberately. That's more than enough to call it attempted murder. I have a suspect, but no evidence."
"We can't confirm anything yet," Lou Xiyan replied, his voice darkening. "But I won't let this matter go. You just rest and leave the rest to me."
Hearing her admit she had been forcibly held underwater made his heart clench. How terrified and helpless she must have been in that moment. Drawing her into his embrace, he gently stroked her silky hair—not only to comfort her, but himself as well.
He dared not imagine what might have happened if he hadn't gone to the Imperial Garden that day—or if Mo Bai hadn't been with him. He could have lost her forever. His arms tightened unconsciously, finding solace only in the warmth of her presence.
Suddenly held tightly in his arms, Zhuo Qing was stunned. But when she felt his tightening grip, she understood—he still ached for her. Resting her cheek gently against his shoulder, she reached out to hold him close and whispered softly in his ear,
"I'm all right now. Truly."
Her soothing voice calmed his racing heart. He wanted nothing more than to keep her in his arms forever—but he knew he couldn't. Twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, he sighed deeply.
"I want Mo Bai to protect you from the shadows, all right?"
"No." Zhuo Qing abruptly sat up and refused firmly.
Lou Xiyan knew she cherished her freedom and disliked being restricted, but her decisiveness surprised him. Caressing her cheek, he coaxed gently,
"He won't interfere with anything you wish to do or any place you want to go—he's there only for your safety."
Zhuo Qing smiled and responded,
"That's not the reason. Mo Bai is your personal guard. If he protects you, I'll be more at ease. As the Prime Minister, the threats you face far outweigh mine. If you're worried about me, assign someone else—anyone."
She understood Lou Xiyan's care and concern, but she wasn't a porcelain doll, delicate and fragile.
The incident at the lotus pond was due to her own carelessness. As someone from the modern world, she had yet to adapt fully to the palace's treacherous undercurrents. But now she knew—to always stay vigilant.
"Qing'er, the terror you suffered last time was more than enough. I can't bear a second. I already have more than enough people to ensure my safety—I rarely need Mo Bai.
"I may not be able to stay with you every moment, but I worry about you constantly. Only with Mo Bai by your side will I have peace of mind. Please… say yes."
His arms tightened around her once more, their bodies pressed close. Zhuo Qing could feel his heart racing faster than ever. Her refusal caught in her throat. With a gentle smile, she whispered,
"All right."
He was lean, lacking a warrior's physique, yet in his embrace, she felt utterly safe.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth. Suddenly remembering something, her eyes flew open.
"I have a request. It's important!"
Lou Xiyan looked slightly startled. "What is it?"
"Can I decide the design of my wedding dress and phoenix crown?"
That day, just three layers of skirts nearly suffocated her. Xiyu had said royal bridal attire required seven layers. Though the Lou family didn't claim imperial status, six layers were expected. That would be torture!
"That's all?" Lou Xiyan chuckled.
"Yes." Zhuo Qing nodded solemnly. On her wedding day, this truly mattered.
Lou Xiyan laughed aloud and pulled her into his embrace again.
"Whatever the lady says, so it shall be."
In a chamber meant to be fragrant and resplendent, the air was heavy with the scent of blood.
The stains on the floor had yet to dry. Pale pink bedding was soaked in scarlet.
The woman on the bed lay stripped bare—her smooth skin unmarred by wounds…