Yiyan spent the whole day in the barracks, training new troops, fixing up their living quarters, and teaching them the basics of how to follow orders; it really was quite time-consuming. The weariness of his body was second to the mental pressure of leading soldiers for the first time. This militia belonged to his lord; there was no room for mistake.
Thus, when he returned to the main residence, the sun was already setting on the western horizon. He entered and saw Lüzhu leaning under the window with needle and thread in hand, quietly patching something up. His lord was lying on his side in bed, his visage blocked by muslin curtains.
Yiyan walked up next to Lüzhu, “How long has my lord been asleep?”
“About two hours or so,” Lüzhu said after taking a peek at the water clock. She said to Yiyan, “Wait here for a moment, I’ll go get a pot of medicine.”
Yiyan nodded then sat down by the door. He hadn’t slept well the previous night, and he’d toiled hard the entire day. Even he was starting to tire. Still, it was nothing. If his lord needed him to, he could endure no matter how grueling or arduous it was. His eyes wandered unwittingly towards the bed. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he rushed over.
In his sleep, Liang Feng felt like he was being soaked by rain as it fell on him drop by drop. Even breathing felt difficult. Soon, that chill turned into the torturous itch of ants crawling into his veins and burrowing into his bones. He wanted to scream and claw at his chest. A strange fire burned in his heart. His teeth creaked as they ground against each other. He used all his strength to try and awaken from the dream, but there was a force pressing down on his eyelids. He sank into the ceaseless struggle.
“My lord!”
A low cry rang out by his ear like an explosion. Liang Feng’s eyes opened abruptly. He was lying on his bed, and there was a pair of blue-gray eyes not far, looking at him with concern. They were so close that in those pale eyes, he could almost see his own pallid reflection.
He forcefully took a deep breath and squeezed out the word, “Yiyan?”
“It’s me, my lord!” Yiyan kneeled beside his bed and said anxiously, “Is it the night hag? You must put a leaf of the scholar tree in your mouth to drive it away!”
Irritation and annoyance roiled in his chest. He waved him off, “Where’s Lüzhu?”
“She went to the kitchen to fetch medicine.”
Only now did Liang Feng realize that the sky outside was already dark; it looked to be around six or seven. He’d fallen asleep at some point, no wonder he was having nightmares. He pushed himself up and leaned weakly on the headboard, then pursed his lips and said, “Bring some water.”
Yiyan leaped to his feet, dashed over to the table, poured a cup of water, and scrambled back. Liang Feng didn’t even have the strength to lift his hand. All he could do was lean over and sip directly from the cup. Yiyan hurriedly moved the teacup closer, carefully controlling its angle as he helped Liang Feng drink.
When the warm water entered his mouth, the itching in his throat subsided slightly, but the prickling feeling in his heart didn’t lessen in the least. He only drank a few gulps before he turned away and asked, “What did you all do today?”
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“You must move in as soon as possible so that they can focus their attention!” The most important part of basic training was for new recruits to reside in an area specially designated for military affairs. The atmosphere of an army was something that had to be purposely crafted. If they spent all day mucking about with the farmers, then they’d never be anything other than a farmer.
Liang Feng suppressed the irateness gnawing away at him and continued his line of question, “How’s the progress on training them in formations?”
“Still unseemly. There’s a lot of them that can’t tell left and right, and their strides are uneven.” Seeing Liang Feng’s tightly furrowed brow, Yiyan added, “But there are a few quick ones, like Niu Wu and Sun Jiao, who’ve got quick reactions. They’re not stupid. They’re just lacking something compared to the serfs who helped repel the bandits.”
“They haven’t seen blood, they lack mettle.” Of course Liang Feng knew what Yiyan was talking about. Even though these serfs were commendable for their courage, and had some brains as well, they were different from those who’d fought the bandits. They didn’t have that ferocity. “Later on, when you start practicing spear formations, it’ll get better….”
Halfway through his sentence, Liang Feng suddenly started coughing. Yiyan hastily set the teacup down, then hesitatingly reached out towards him, wanting, yet not daring to touch him. He said urgently, “My lord, are you uncomfortable anywhere? You’ve been sweating this whole time….”
Only after he pointed it out did Liang Feng notice that his head was wet with sweat. That muffled heat hadn’t gone away, it’d only become worse. It scraped through his guts like small knives, stabbing his heart and lungs. That maddening itch flared up again, and Liang Feng realized, fucking hell, these were withdrawal symptoms.
The original had used cold-food powder once every ten days, but perhaps it was because he’d gone off schedule, or perhaps because of the additives in his last dose, that the withdrawal symptoms were so severe. Physician Jiang had said he might experience pill spasm, but who could’ve thought that it’d be so intense!
Just what kind of fucking drugs had they put in it? Liang Feng suddenly clenched his white inner robes and began violently shaking. The pain was unrelenting, slowly mounting into the agony of being shot through the chest with thousands of arrows. There was a burning conflagration in his insides, scorching his throat and turning his eyes blood red. Even his rationality was being trampled to pieces. It felt like there was something beckoning him, forcing him to bend his knee, forcing him to submit!
Porcelain shattered on the ground. Then, Lüzhu cried out fretfully, “Master! Master! What’s wrong?”
Withdrawal symptoms were truly wretched to behold. Liang Feng wrung out every last drop of energy to grate out the words, “Go…… get some….. warm water…….”
Seeing her master’s shivering, sweat-soaked appearance, Lüzhu stood there stuporously for a moment before staggeringly rushing out the door. After sending the little servant girl away, Liang Feng couldn’t hold his pained groans back any longer. The agony scraped his bones like an iron knife, ravaging his already weak and sickly body. His limbs twitched, his teeth chattered, and even his features became contorted.
That wasn’t even the most fearsome aspect. Underneath the pain, there was a wild fury goading him to tear into something, to destroy something! The sound of brocade snapping apart echoed throughout the room. Liang Feng had ripped through the cloth at his chest and clawed red streaks into his skin. But that roaring blaze did not abate. He strained, trying to find something to rend, but his hands were firmly restrained by another’s.
“My lord, let go!” Yiyan began to shout. Before his very eyes, those elegant, reserved hands, which were only ever supposed to hold a brush, were being stained with crimson. His heart clenched achingly at the hint of blood on his chest, so frail the ribs were almost visible. Yiyan enclasped his hands with all his might, trying to stop Liang Feng from harming himself further.
“Get lost!” Liang Feng roared, now that even that avenue of relief was blocked. He suddenly tried to kick that meddlesome fellow away. But Yiyan didn’t give him the chance to shake him off. He embraced him and used his body to restrain his frenzied thrashing.
The scalding warmth and the earthy scent, mixed with sweat, surged into his nose, dispelling the lingering incense aroma. It was like adding dry kindling to a bonfire. Countless chaotic images circled through Liang Feng’s mind. In combat against armed criminals, his life hanging by a thread, that hand grenade, explosion… he opened his mouth and bit down.
Yiyan’s reflexes were quick enough that, if he’d wanted to, he could’ve avoided those teeth, but he didn’t do so. He merely shifted to protect the vital point on his neck and offered his shoulder. He didn’t dodge because he’d witnessed his clansmen experience this kind of delirium before. If they didn’t have something to bite down on, they might very likely bite their own tongue and choke to death on their blood. He wouldn’t let his lord come to harm before his very eyes!
He instantly felt the pain of that vicious bite; it was deep enough that blood was already seeping down his shoulder. Yiyan didn’t even frown. Instead, he soothingly wrapped him in his arms. When the reek of blood touched his tongue, Liang Feng’s consciousness returned. He said falteringly, “You must… bind me… convulsion…”
“No! My lord, I can ride after that imperial physician!”
“Too far…. no… use…..” Liang Feng said, with great difficulty.
“Master, master, I’ve brought water…” Lüzhu stumbled back in, but because she was too unsteady, she spilled water all over the place. Immediately upon entering, the bloody scene she witnessed nearly scared her stupid. Thankfully she didn’t drop the bronze bowl in her hands.
“What’re you standing around for?!” Yiyan scolded without even turning to look at her.
Lüzhu came back to her senses, swiftly set the bowl down by the bed, soaked a handkerchief, and attentively began dabbing at Liang Feng. The two were entangled too closely, so she could only reach Liang Feng’s forehead. Lüzhu wept at how deathly pale her master’s face was, and at the specks of fresh blood at his lips. She sobbed, “Is this pill spasm then? Hic, perhaps I should go get some cold-food powder after all; once he takes it he’ll get better….”
Yiyan shouted, “The imperial physician said he can’t take it!”
“But this reaction… hic…. how will master be able to bear it….” Lüzhu sobbed as she wiped Liang Feng’s sweat. Suddenly, he twitched and made an odd coughing sound in his throat, nearly frightening Lüzhu into dropping her handkerchief.
“My lord is ill because he took the powder, he mustn’t use it again!” At that moment, Yiyan was unusually clear-headed. Drinking poison might be able to offer a moment’s relief, but it would only ruin him in the end. He absolutely couldn’t take it any longer!
Lüzhu’s brain was out of order, but she didn’t speak thoughtlessly again. She kept delicately dabbing away the sweat on Liang Feng’s head. The convulsions came in bursts. When it was severe, Liang Feng’s whole body would spasm uncontrollably, trying to fight free of Yiyan’s hold. When it was milder, he’d force out random words, trying to get the two youngsters to go away. But neither Yiyan nor Lüzhu had any intention of leaving.
After about fifteen minutes, that terrifying shuddering finally stopped. Liang Feng’s head sagged to the side as he passed out.
“Master!” Lüzhu was so startled she forgot to breathe.
Yiyan carefully felt at the side of Liang Feng’s neck and sighed in relief upon feeling his pulse. He gently laid him back on the bed and said quietly, “He’s fainted.”
Only then did Lüzhu calm down. Tears welled up again, “Who could’ve thought that pill spasm was so dangerous. Physician Jiang should’ve prescribed a treatment….”
Yiyan ignored her as he lightly pried apart the front of Liang Feng’s tattered clothes. He touched the bloody marks on his chest, “Is there any wound medicine?”
“Yes!” Lüzhu jumped up and ran to retrieve a small bottle. Before she even had a chance to open it, Yiyan snatched it away.
He softly applied the medicinal powder on Liang Feng’s injuries, then he touched his sweat-soaked robes, “Go get a set of clean clothes, and blankets.”
Lüzhu only then noticed that her master’s clothes were already drenched. She quickly went to retrieve new clothes and blankets. Yiyan took a deep breath, then slowly reached out and helped him undress. His body was even thinner than he had imagined, every part seemed too fragile to touch. There was some inconspicuous bruising at the side of his waist from when he’d held him earlier. Had he really used that much strength? Yiyan’s heart pounded like thunder. Amidst the contrition, there was a strange, indescribable feeling, like he had left his mark on the form that housed his soul…
“Give me a hand, I’ll help master change into dry clothes!” Lüzhu returned in short order and deftly directed Yiyan to help Liang Feng lean forward a bit as she replaced his clothes.
That heart-racing feeling was abruptly drowned by resentment, as if someone else had touched what was his. Yiyan gritted his teeth and shoved the odd thought out of his mind. He followed Lüzhu’s instructions and got Liang Feng dressed neatly once again. When his pale frame was fully ensconced by equally white fabric, Yiyan finally let out the breath he’d been holding and asked, “Has my lord taken his medicine this evening?”
“I… I spilled it.” Luüzhu remembered the medicine bowl she’d accidentally dropped, then hastily stood, “I’ll go to the kitchen and prepare another bowl. You… you, look after the master!”
Seeing his bloodied shoulder, for some reason, this strange, ugly Jie wasn’t as much of an eyesore anymore. After that exhortation, she ran out of the room.
Finally, they were alone. Yiyan touched the bite marks on his shoulder. The injury looked savage but it really wasn’t severe. The bleeding had almost stopped. It throbbed in time with his pulse; he couldn’t tell whether it still hurt or whether it had numbed. He wavered for a moment, then furtively touched Liang Feng’s tightly pressed lips. The mouth that had just bitten him was tender as a flower, soft, smooth, tightly clenched. In a moment of inattention, the wet blood on his fingertips dyed Liang Feng’s pale lips like a faint smear of rouge.
Yiyan’s face reddened; he instantly retracted his hand and pressed it against his knee as if he were trying to wipe off that strange sensation. He’d never been so flustered before, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect that person lying serenely on the bed, pallid and weak.
I must protect him.
A myriad of thoughts and feelings tumbled through his head, but only one became deeply branded into Yiyan’s mind.