Had He Come Back to Life?
The two leaned against the mountain wall and spoke. The sunlight at the cave entrance gradually slanted westward, leaving the cave dimmer with each passing moment.
The voice of the person beside him gradually sank lower, growing faint and heavy. Then Chu Yuan suddenly felt a weight settle on his shoulder.
Lu Ronghuai had let his head rest against his shoulder. His voice a little slurred, but his right hand still tightly clasping Chu Yuan’s hand.
“I am a little sleepy. I will sleep for a while. After night falls, Ah-Yuan, remember to wake me.”
Chu Yuan clasped his hand back and answered calmly, “All right. Your Highness, rest.”
“Will you be afraid?” His eyelids were half-lowered as he asked beside Chu Yuan’s ear.
“With Your Highness here, this subject is not afraid.”
“Good. At night, I will go out and hunt a mountain chicken for you.”
“All right.”
The breathing by his ear gradually evened out.
Chu Yuan turned his head and looked at Lu Ronghuai’s tall, deep-set brows and eyes.
They had talked for more than two hours, from noon until sunset. Chu Yuan had kept pulling Lu Ronghuai into conversation the whole time, afraid he would truly fall asleep.
Lu Ronghuai had likely seen through his intention as well, yet he had still forced himself to stay awake and talk with him for so long. He held Chu Yuan’s hand, but the warmth in his palm was slowly fading.
Chu Yuan suppressed the worry in his heart, gathered Lu Ronghuai’s hands into his arms, covered them with his sleeves, and warmed them for him.
Even after night had fallen, Lu Ronghuai still had not awakened.
Chu Yuan called to him several times. The man’s mind was sunk in haze, and he mumbled two blurred phrases under his breath.
He lifted a hand and pressed it to Lu Ronghuai’s forehead. A scorching heat came through his skin.
“Your Highness, you have a fever.” Chu Yuan lowered his hand, his voice in the darkness carrying a concealed worry.
No one responded.
The fire had long since gone out for lack of fresh wood. The cave was pitch-black. Chu Yuan cupped Lu Ronghuai’s head and, bit by bit, carefully shifted his own body out from beneath him.
Half of his arm had gone numb enough to lose feeling. It took him quite a while, and only then did he manage to lay Lu Ronghuai flat on the ground.
He went to gather some branches that could barely be used, lit the fire again, and once there was light in the cave, he rose and went to Lu Ronghuai’s side.
Chu Yuan crouched down and examined the wounds on Lu Ronghuai’s body.
There was a cut on the other arm. The wound was not deep, and the blood had long since stopped.
The serious injuries were the several wounds on his back, deep enough that the skin had split and the flesh burst open.
The blood on his back had dried and congealed, sticking to the clothing. Chu Yuan cleaned away the scabs around the wounds with extreme care, and his gaze fell upon those three deep, long gashes.
To carve open wounds that long, it was plainly the work of the sharp swords in the hands of the men in black.
No matter how high Lu Ronghuai’s martial skill, a man still only had two fists against many. Whoever was behind the attack clearly knew his capabilities well and had deliberately sent so many men to assassinate him.
All the men in black had been killed, and Lu Ronghuai had also been injured.
In truth, if he had not gone to save him, his injuries should not have been this grave.
Chu Yuan thought of that blow from the black bear. A black bear that huge, if one took a blow from it head-on, it would certainly leave dark purple bruising on the skin.
He examined those three sword wounds with painstaking care, but did not find the black bear’s paw print. His gaze searched all around, and suddenly he noticed that the clothing below Lu Ronghuai’s left shoulder blade had a hole the size of a copper coin.
The cut edges of the hole were even and neat, unlike cloth that had been snagged and torn by a tree branch. Lu Ronghuai wore few clothes, and what he wore was thin. Chu Yuan bent close to look, and when he saw clearly, his entire body froze, and even his breathing dulled for a moment.
Beneath Lu Ronghuai’s shoulder blade, a dart had already sunk completely into his body. Judging by the depth, the dart must have injured his internal organs. What was more, there was a blackened palm print around it.
It was likely because it had been embedded too deeply, and because he had also taken that palm strike, that the blood had been blocked inside and could not flow out. Thus only a torn hole remained, and there was no bloodstain on the clothing.
With injuries this severe, he had still carried him and run that far. Did this man think he had a body of bronze skin and iron bones?
Chu Yuan bit down hard on his lower lip.
“Ah-Yuan...” The branches crackled in the fire. Lu Ronghuai’s eyes were tightly shut, his voice hoarse and low, and he began to call Chu Yuan’s name.
Chu Yuan pressed his lips tightly together. He rose, took off his moon-white outer robe, found a sharp-edged stone in the cave, tore the robe into strips, then helped Lu Ronghuai sit up, half-embraced him, and bound the wounds on his back with the cloth strips.
There were no medicinal herbs in the cave, and it was damp year-round. Chu Yuan feared the wounds would fester, so he wrapped several layers of cloth around them.
“Ah-Yuan...” Lu Ronghuai leaned against Chu Yuan’s shoulder. The fever burned fiercely, his skin burning hot, and those dark, dense brows slowly drew together, knotting into a tight furrow.
Lu Ronghuai’s eyelids trembled lightly, but he could not wake. His lips were pale, dry, and peeling, and his expression grew restless.
Chu Yuan copied the motion he was accustomed to using and reached out to pat his head.
“This subject is here, Your Highness.”
He soothed him for the time it took half an incense stick to burn. Once Lu Ronghuai had calmed down, he picked up the remaining cloth strips from the ground, walked to the cave entrance, tied the strips together, and hung them outside the cave, leaving one small piece pinned down with a stone.
A wind rose in the night, and the cloth strips fluttered in it. Chu Yuan looked out at the pitch-black mountain forest and prayed in his heart that the rescue party would find this place quickly.
A slight movement came from behind him.
Chu Yuan turned back and saw Lu Ronghuai’s body slightly curled. In the firelight, his face was cold and stern yet pained, as if he had fallen into a nightmare.
He kept calling Chu Yuan’s name in a muddled voice. Chu Yuan turned back and returned, coming to his side.
“Your Highness?” His hand came to rest on Lu Ronghuai’s arm, and he discovered that he was actually trembling faintly.
Chu Yuan glanced at the entrance behind him. The cold wind kept pouring inside. The branches would soon burn out, and once the fire was extinguished, the cave would become even colder.
He brushed away the broken stones on the ground and lay down beside Lu Ronghuai.
He shifted a little closer to Lu Ronghuai and used his own back to block the cold wind blowing in.
“Your Highness?” The two were pressed very near. Chu Yuan looked at him and called softly once again.
Lu Ronghuai did not react.
Chu Yuan lay there for a while and felt the chill around them burrow into his body.
He could not help edging a little farther into Lu Ronghuai’s arms. At first he was cautious, but then he thought of how Lu Ronghuai was unconscious at this moment, and his movements grew bolder.
He curled his whole body into Lu Ronghuai’s embrace, closed his eyes, and held him as they shared warmth.
“Ah-Yuan...” Lu Ronghuai called again.
Chu Yuan tipped up his face, stretched out a slender forefinger, poked lightly at his chin, and muttered in a small voice, “Your Highness, why do you keep calling this subject?”
The person holding him shifted restlessly. Lu Ronghuai unconsciously drew his arms tighter, his voice low and hoarse. “Ah-Yuan, I feel unwell.”
Chu Yuan said, “Where does Your Highness feel unwell?”
“Unwell...” The man’s brows knit tighter and tighter as he hugged him close. “Do not leave me...”
Chu Yuan was completely tucked into Lu Ronghuai’s arms. At his ear was the sound of his heartbeat. Lu Ronghuai was holding him too tightly, and Chu Yuan was nearly unable to breathe.
He struggled lightly. “Your Highness, this subject will not leave. Do not hold me so tightly.”
“Do not leave.”
Chu Yuan answered once more, “This subject will not, Your Highness.”
Even if he wanted to leave, the height of the mountain wall outside would successfully stop him.
“You are lying to me...” The man’s head shifted over, his body frighteningly hot. His voice turned choked and aggrieved. “You left me behind all alone. Ah-Yuan, I miss you so much.”
Chu Yuan: “...”
He reached out and wiped away the tears spilling from someone’s eye corner, then stared at Lu Ronghuai in rare curiosity.
What had he dreamed of, for him to be crying as well?
The fire spat out a few sparks, and they quickly died away again. The last trace of residual warmth vanished, and the cave became even darker and more silent.
Lu Ronghuai was still murmuring continuously in a low voice.
Chu Yuan pressed a hand to Lu Ronghuai’s chest. Beneath his palm, the pulse was beating. In the darkness, he blinked. “Your Highness, what sort of person is Ah-Yuan to you?”
“Ah-Yuan... mine...”
“Who is yours?”
“Ah-Yuan.”
“Ah-Yuan is not yours.”
“Mine...”
“He is not.”
“Mine.”
Chu Yuan amused himself alone to his heart’s content. In the darkness, his brows and eyes were bright and lovely, and delight spread through those clear eyes.
Lu Ronghuai’s consciousness was sunk in haze. His temples throbbed with pain, and suddenly, in his mind, he heard the heavy tolling of a funeral bell.
‘Dong’...
He abruptly opened his eyes.
Before him was complete darkness. The tolling of the funeral bell still echoed at his ears, and for a moment he dazedly thought he was still in that icy, piercingly cold great hall, holding Chu Yuan’s corpse and sitting there withered until dawn.
A soul-rending agony crashed over him. His eyes reddened, tears slid down his pale cheeks, and the taste of blood in his throat was thick and heavy.
“Ah-Yuan...” Lu Ronghuai gathered the head of the person in his arms into his embrace. It was as though his throat had been scraped over by rough stone, and his voice held a sorrow beyond words.
He was trapped in those painful memories and unable to pull free. He did not notice at all that the person in his arms had moved slightly.
“Ah-Yuan, shall we go to Dongji Tian?” The man spoke softly above his head, his tone gentle and desolate.
Chu Yuan blinked.
Where was Dongji Tian?
“I promised you before that I would take you to see the sunset at Dongji Tian. Now I have time. I will take you there.”
“You said you also wanted to go south once, to see the place where your Mother Empress was born. Once we have seen the sunset, we will go there, all right?”
“Truly?” Chu Yuan asked in delight.
“Tr...” Lu Ronghuai’s bleak expression froze. He gripped Chu Yuan by the shoulders and instantly pulled the distance between them apart.
Lu Ronghuai suspected he had heard an illusion. Just now... had he heard Chu Yuan’s voice?
Had he come back to life?
He hesitantly stretched out a hand and touched Chu Yuan’s face.
What met his hand was warm, fine skin, soft and smooth. He clearly remembered that Chu Yuan’s skin had already turned cool and icy. That chill had stabbed into his heart and left it cold, unforgettable for life.
Chu Yuan’s voice sounded again, carrying confusion. “Your Highness, what is the matter?”
Lu Ronghuai was silent.
Seeing that he was awake, Chu Yuan’s eyes unconsciously took on a smile. He did not mind at all this somewhat unusual behavior of his and continued to ask, “How did Your Highness know I wanted to go and see the place where Mother Empress was born?”
Lu Ronghuai’s vision finally cleared. He looked around at the surroundings, realized that the two of them were in a cave, and also understood that just now he had been pinned down by a nightmare.
“I heard you mention it once,” Lu Ronghuai said hoarsely. He pulled the person back into his arms and held him tightly.
The pain at his heart had not yet faded. Lu Ronghuai remembered what he had seen in the dream. That marrow-cutting feeling was still vivid in his memory, as though his liver and intestines had been severed.
“This subject never said it,” Chu Yuan said with certainty.
Lu Ronghuai said, “You said it in your sleep. I heard it.”
Suspicion appeared on Chu Yuan’s face. “This subject talks in his sleep?”
“Of course. In your dream, you even kept calling me husband and telling me to hold you tighter.” Lu Ronghuai, taking advantage of the darkness, lied through his teeth without the slightest burden in his heart.
Chu Yuan fell silent for quite a while.
Then, in a faint voice, he struck heavily.
“Your Highness, you were crying just now.”
✧ A Word from the Author ✧
Lu-dog: Do I not want face?
Yuan-Yuan: Come then, let us harm each other.
0 Comments