BLPSG Chapter 65: Ragged Fur

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Xie Fuyin, in her innocence, once gently extended her arms toward Wen Qingci, asking him to hold her and reach for the startled bird bell in the corner of the room.

 

But in the end, Wen Qingci couldn’t fulfill the little girl’s wish.

 

That day, he touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip, and with a hint of difficulty, he consoled the unhappy Xie Fuyin: “Little Highness, do you remember our secret? My arm is injured, and I cannot lift you.”

 

Xie Fuyin nodded, half understanding.

 

She silently stored Wen Qingci’s words in her heart—so Master Wen, who was severely and heavily injured, not only kept his arm hanging by his side without moving, but he also lacked the strength to hold her.

 

The bird bell hung quietly under the eaves of the Imperial Medical Bureau, emitting a clear sound.

 

That sound struck everyone’s hearts.

 

“What did you say?!” Xie Bufeng’s subordinate tightened his grip, staring intently at Xie Fuyin.

 

With great effort, he managed to say, “Wen Qingci’s arm is injured?”

 

The cold wind blew, lifting Wen Qingci’s curly hair that cascaded down his back.

 

Like chains, it entwined the young man, making it hard for him to breathe.

 

His eyes reddened, resembling a legendary bloodthirsty demon yet carrying an indescribable sense of pity.

 

Xie Fuyin, who had been hugged tightly by Xie Bufeng, couldn’t help but burst into tears: “Waa… Yes, he’s injured…” She continued to sob uncontrollably.

 

Chaos erupted outside the Imperial Medical Bureau.

 

“Enough crying,” Consort Lan hurried over to console Xie Fuyin. But Xie Bufeng, still holding her, had already detached from this world.

 

Wen Qingci’s arm was injured.

 

…And he had never known.

 

Nearly two years of separation, countless days and nights.

 

How had Wen Qingci endured it all?

 

…Was he in pain?

 

Xie Bufeng led his troops to victory in every battle, and everyone praised him as a natural general with a mature mind that ordinary people could not imagine.

 

He gently released his arm, suppressing his emotions, and wiped away Xie Fuyin’s tears.

 

Then, as gently as possible, he asked the little girl, “Fuyin… Is Master Wen’s arm severely injured?”

 

Xie Bufeng’s tone was incredibly cautious.

 

Not wanting others to see her crying, Xie Fuyin buried her face in her brother’s shoulder, smearing her tears on Xie Bufeng’s clothes.

 

“…Heavy,” the muffled voice transmitted through the fabric to Xie Bufeng’s ear.

 

Only the young man heard his sister’s answer.

 

Xie Fuyin sniffled, adjusting her breathing with difficulty, and recalled: “…When I came to the Imperial Medical Bureau before, while catching rabbits… I accidentally fell. Master Wen originally wanted to reach out and catch me, but his hand had just lifted a little—then it dropped back down.”

 

As she spoke, Xie Fuyin gestured with her hand in front of Xie Bufeng.

 

—That height was no more than three inches.

 

Afterward, Xie Fuyin couldn’t stop crying.

 

Shee no longer leaned on Xie Bufeng’s shoulder as before. Instead, she straightened up, her eyes red, and looked at her brother with utmost seriousness. “Brother, do you think Master Wen was in a lot of pain?”

 

This was an innocent and naive question from the little girl.

 

But it struck Xie Bufeng like a rusty, blunt knife, piercing straight into his heart.

 

Pain, which had been an abstract concept for Xie Bufeng, now became vividly real.

 

Even his breath felt painful.

 

“…Yes” Xie Bufeng whispered softly in Xie Fuyin’s ear, a voice only he could hear. “It must be very painful.”

 

And yet, he had only learned this today.

 

The little girl spoke whatever came to her mind, without logic, especially now when she was dizzy from crying.

 

After asking that question, Xie Fuyin sniffled again and murmured, “He’s clearly very, very seriously injured… Yet he lied to me, saying it was just a minor injury.”

 

“But, but I saw it, Brother. His left hand has never been raised.”

 

—Wen Qingci’s left hand had never been raised.

 

Scenes from the past played like a revolving lantern in the minds of everyone present.

 

Those memories hidden behind the fog now became clear.

 

Wen Qingci always used his right hand to carry the medicine box.

 

His left hand remained silently hidden in the wide sleeve of his robe, even during formal bows.

 

Not just Xie Bufeng.

 

Everyone around who heard Xie Fuyin’s words felt a chill in their hearts.

 

Worried that Xie Fuyin would be cold, Consort Lan stuffed a small hand warmer in her arms.

 

At this time, the warmth from the hand warmer also passed through the clothes and reached Xie Bufeng’s body.

 

But the young man just felt cold.

 

Bone-chilling cold.

 

The little girl was still sobbing, but Xie Bufeng found that he could not shed even a single tear.

 

Panic and sadness, complex emotions wrapped in memories, surging like the water in a canal.

 

When Wen Qingci was bleeding to save Xie Bufeng, he injured his left hand.

 

But the young man clearly remembered that when he left, Wen Qingci’s injuries were not that serious…

 

What exactly happened during the more than one year that he was away?

 

“Do you know how he was injured?” Xie Bufeng asked almost without hope.

 

Xie Fuyin was stunned for a moment, then slowly bit his lip.

 

At this moment, footsteps suddenly came from the other end of the Imperial Medical Bureau.

 

Xie Guanzhi, who had not yet had time to change out of his Buddhist monk’s clothes, appeared on the other side of the palace road, panting.

 

——Horses are not allowed in the palace, so Xie Guanzhi ran here on foot——

 

The emperor’s carriage, carrying a wooden coffin, rolled through the long streets of Yongdu and headed out of the city.

 

Wherever they passed, people stopped and looked toward the street.

 

The scene of the imperial carriage carrying the coffin was so rare that everyone’s first reaction was that the emperor had passed away.

 

“… Could it be that the late emperor has passed away?”

 

“That shouldn’t be the case. The news from the palace today is that he was deposed by the new emperor and imprisoned. I haven’t heard that he died.”

 

“It definitely can’t be the late emperor. He has been deposed. Even if he died in prison, it’s impossible for him to use such a big show!”

 

“And this is not the direction of the imperial mausoleum at all.”

 

“…Besides, there is only one coffin, not even any burial objects.”

 

…Yes, how could there be no burial objects?

 

The scene before their eyes was truly bizarre.

 

They used the highest-standard ceremonial equipment, but there was nothing in the entire team except a coffin.

 

Even the wood used for this coffin was only slightly better than that used by ordinary people, and it didn’t look like something from the palace at all.

 

Those who escorted the wooden coffin out of Yongdu were Xie Bufeng’s confidants. They had just come down from the battlefield and were filled with a solemn and murderous aura.

 

As they approached, the people on both sides of the long street retreated one after another.

 

The funeral procession did not go directly out of the city gate, but circled along the long street for a while and first arrived at the gate of Wangtanyuan, Wen Qingci’s residence outside the palace.

 

After a short stop, they slowly drove out of Yongdu City.

 

This was the custom of the Wei Dynasty. Before the deceased was buried, he should be taken back home to “take a look”.

 

“It’s Wen Qingci!!!”

 

“The imperial physician Wen Qingci has passed away,” said a commoner who knew who the owner of this mansion was, with a look of disbelief on his face. “Why was his funeral so grand? If you didn’t know, you would have thought that—”

 

Those who didn’t know would have thought that the emperor and empress had passed away…

 

The man forced the words back into his heart.

 

Although he did not say these outrageous words, the same feeling arose from the bottom of everyone’s heart at this moment.

 

The scene of the imperial carriage carrying the coffin was also deeply engraved in the hearts of countless people in Yongdu.

 

As it grew dark, the wooden coffin was moved onto the dragon boat.

 

 

 

The palace eunuchs and maids had toiled all day, creating a makeshift memorial hall within the boat.

 

After securing the coffin, Song Junran, feigning a desire for solitude, dismissed Xie Bufeng’s personal guards, leaving only himself and a medicine attendant who had been waiting outside the palace.

 

The dragon boat, immense and majestic, set sail, gliding southward along the canal.

 

The rhythmic sound of waves echoed through the cabin, drowning out the heartbeat of those onboard. Song Junran, no longer hesitating, hurried to the coffin’s side and gently pushed open the intricately carved side panel.

 

With a soft creak, the previously sealed panel swung open.

 

This coffin, prepared long in advance, had been conveniently acquired today amidst the chaos of the palace. The attendant steadied the wooden board as cascades of fragrant magnolia petals spilled out, covering the floor like a waterfall.

 

Song Junran gritted his teeth, walked forward and carried the person lying inside out, then quickly injected his internal energy into Wen Qingci’s body to protect his organs and meridians.

 

Simultaneously, he stimulated Wen Qingci’s inner core, attempting to rouse him from his deep slumber.

 

Wen Qingci, a self-taught herbalist, had little use for conventional medical methods. Song Junran had no choice but to rely on external forces, pulling him back from the brink of death.

 

The attendant produced a silver needle, carefully inserting it into various acupoints on Wen Qingci’s body. His trembling fingers betrayed his nervousness. Both men held their breath, intently observing the still figure.

 

The pill Wen Qingci had ingested during the palace coup was neither medicine nor poison.

 

It was the coveted treasure of the Valley of Divine Physicians—the “Miao Heng Pill.” Only five such pills existed in the world. Each time one surfaced, it triggered bloodshed and chaos in the martial world, as countless sought it for its miraculous effects.

 

Therefore, a hundred years ago, the Valley of Divine Physicians deliberately concealed the existence of Miao Heng Pill.

 

The Miao Heng Pill was a last-resort survival measure. It didn’t take immediate effect upon consumption. Instead, it lay dormant until the user’s inner energy was depleted or they faced imminent death.

 

Within the next twelve hours, the pill would grant unparalleled internal strength, regardless of the person’s previous martial prowess.

 

Last night, within the forbidden chambers of the Taishu Palace, the Miao Heng Pill had activated just as Wen Qingci’s consciousness faded into darkness. In that critical moment, he had harnessed an inexhaustible surge of inner energy, followed by a deep slumber.

 

Ordinary practitioners could sustain this state for the duration of an incense stick burning, but Wen Qingci, relying on the Miao Heng Pill, endured for twelve hours—a remarkable feat.

 

The cabin remained silent, the only sound the persistent lapping of water against the hull. Time ticked away, yet the man lying amidst magnolia petals showed no signs of life. Song Junran’s touch revealed no warmth, no pulse. Wen Qingci resembled a delicate porcelain figure, beautiful but lifeless.

 

Faster.

 

It had to work faster.

 

The Miao Heng Pill’s effects were waning. If Wen Qingci continued in this suspended state, he might slip into eternal slumber.

 

Song Junran intensified his inner energy, relentlessly attacking Wen Qingci’s inner core, attempting to break him free from his trance. The attendant watched, his trembling hands betraying his anxiety.

 

The boat continued its journey down the canal, waves crashing against the hull, disrupting the rhythm of hearts within.

 

The attendant’s heart sank.

 

He didn’t dare to make any sound, but couldn’t help thinking in his heart… So much time has passed, and Wen Qingci still hasn’t made any movement, could it be that a disaster has already happened?

 

Bah, bah, bah, don’t talk nonsense!

 

Outside the window, the night deepened.

 

Finally, Song Junran’s furrowed brow relaxed. “I can feel a pulse,” he announced.

 

His hand remained clasped around Wen Qingci’s wrist, infusing energy while checking his pulse. The weight that had pressed on Song Junran’s heart all day now lifted.

 

Unbeknownst to them, both men were drenched in cold sweat.

 

“Thank the heavens!” The attendant’s eyes brightened. A pulse meant Wen Qingci had successfully emerged from his suspended state.

 

“Remove the needles,” Song Junran instructed, rising slowly.

 

“Yes!” The attendant carefully withdrew the silver needles from Wen Qingci’s body. “May Old Valley Master watch over us,” he murmured repeatedly.

 

Then, wiping his brow, he added, “I was worried. So much time had passed without any sign of movement. I feared the worst for the Second Master.”

 

With gentle care, they lifted Wen Qingci and laid him on a nearby bed.

 

As the day passed, the bleeding from Wen Qingci’s wound had already stopped. But, Song Junran still turned around and searched the medicine box carried by the servant for a silver needle. He prepared to stitch up the wound for him.

 

“…So light. If Old Valley Master were still here, how would he bear this?” Song Junran furrowed his brow, torn between compassion and frustration.

 

“If Father were still alive, how could he allow him to make himself look like this?” Song Junran’s voice held both regret and an iron resolve.

 

In that moment, Song Junran’s heart was heavy with remorse.

 

Within the Valley of Divine Physicians, where they encountered countless ailments, as long as a person still drew breath, it was not considered a grave matter.

 

Even now, the servant couldn’t help but say, “I heard that the Second Valley Master originally had time to leave the palace.

 

But when he heard someone was attempting to assassinate Xie Bufeng, he turned back halfway and even took an arrow for him… Valley Master, do you think Second Valley Master might also…” The servant hesitated, implying something about Xie Bufeng.

 

Seeing that Song Junran always treated Wen Qingci like a younger brother, his expression turned grim, and he quickly fell silent.

 

But deep down, the servant couldn’t help but wonder: Wen Qingci had always been easygoing, but the longer you knew him, the more you sensed his outward warmth and inner coldness. Perhaps it was related to his childhood tragedy.

 

However, something seemed to change in Wen Qingci during his visit to Yongdu.

 

For instance… he became more open-hearted than before?

 

Despite having the miraculous Miao Heng Pill, Wen Qingci’s unique constitution remained precarious. No one could predict what might happen during their journey.

 

Wen Qingci chose not to take the clear path to safety but instead risked his life to shield Xie Bufeng from an arrow.

 

Seeing this, the new emperor held significant weight in Wen Qingci’s heart.

 

Once again, snow fell over the Grand Canal in Yinchuan.

 

The continuous gray clouds merged with the swirling snowflakes hanging over Yongdu.

 

…

 

Outside the Imperial Medical Bureau, Xie Guanzhi stared blankly at the empty space before him. After a moment, he realized he had arrived too late.

 

His eyes welled up unexpectedly, tears rolling down from those beautiful fox-like eyes.

 

At the same time, Xie Fuyin’s young voice pierced the air, reaching his ears.

 

Xie Fuyin shook her head at first.

 

Then, as if suddenly recalling something, she hiccuped and said to Xie Bufeng, “Master Wen said… he said he caught a chill, so his hands… his hands can’t move.”

 

“A chill?” Before Xie Bufeng could react, Xie Guanzhi’s eyes widened. As if realizing something, he looked at Xie Fuyin with an incredulous expression.

 

“Are you talking about Wen Qingci?” he asked.

 

“Yes…” The little girl didn’t recognize the person before her. She hesitated for a moment, then snuggled into Xie Bufeng’s arms and nodded.

 

Xie Guanzhi pressed further, “Are you saying that Wen Qingci’s hands are affected by the cold and can’t move anymore?”

 

His reaction was peculiar, and Xie Fuyin felt a bit afraid of this strange person. This time, she remained silent.

 

Xie Guanzhi’s mind went blank for a moment. He clenched his fists tightly, then forced a smile and lowered his head, saying, “How foolish… Why is he so foolish… Clearly, he’s a physician, yet he never cherished his own body.”

 

His laughter at this moment was even more unsightly than tears.

 

Xie Guanzhi looking like this, he must have known something.

 

Xie Bufeng slowly put Xie Fuyin on the ground and walked towards Xie Guanzhi: “What do you mean by that?”

 

Hearing this, Xie Guanzhi laughed miserably twice, and when he raised his head again, his eyes were empty.

 

He paused for a while, and finally spoke slowly.

 

“I met him once before I was imprisoned.”

 

Before Xie Guanzhi was imprisoned…

 

The timing was too sensitive. Xie Bufeng’s heart trembled slightly.

 

It was the day he was sent to the battlefield.

 

Also… the day he and Wen Qingci had their “falling out.”

 

At this moment, the only words left on Xie Guanzhi’s body were “disoriented”.

 

He choked out, “…That day, it was pouring rain on the Grand Canal in Yinchuan. The cold was bone-chilling. After Xie Zhaolin finished interrogating me, he sent someone to ferry me to another ship. It was then that I saw Wen Qingci.”

 

Xie Guanzhi’s voice had no ups and downs, like chanting a spell.

 

But every word was as heavy as a thousand pounds, striking Xie Bufeng’s heart.

 

“He jumped off the boat and desperately picked up a piece of tattered fur from the water. He held it tightly. If you didn’t know, you would think it was some treasure.” Xie Guanzhi closed his eyes slowly with a tired look on his face, as if he was lost in the memories of that day. “But…as easy it was to jump off the deck, it was difficult to go back in the heavy rain.”

 

“When I saw him, he was just about to… sink to the bottom of the Yinchuan Grand Canal.”

 

Xie Guanzhi had a blank expression on his face, but his tears kept falling.

 

Nearly two years of confinement did not make him forget the scene of that day.

 

That day left him with too many shocks.

 

Even the heavy rain and cold weather that day were engraved deep in Xie Guanzhi’s memory.

 

Along with this, there is also the indelible sadness in Wen Qingci’s tone.

 

—Ragged fur.

 

Xie Guanzhi didn’t know what that thing was.

 

But Xie Bufeng knew it clearly.

 

It was a hand warmer, a gift that he gave to Wen Qingci.

 

Before leaving, he threw it far into the Yinchuan Grand Canal.

 

Xie Guanzhi didn’t notice that Xie Bufeng’s body was shaking uncontrollably.

 

He was still talking to himself.

 

“That day…I told him that day that he was sorry for you.”

 

“Then Wen Qingci smiled at me and said ‘yes’.”

 

Xie Guanzhi opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but he saw Xie Bufeng, who was standing opposite him, turned around as if in a trance and ran towards the small courtyard of the Imperial Medical Bureau.

 

He pushed open the thin wooden door of the bedroom and began to search inside like crazy.

 

Wardrobe, desk, and treasure cabinet.

 

Finally, he found the hand warmer that was carefully pressed under the mattress…

 

It was carefully cleaned by its owner, and its fur was soft and fluffy, with no sign of having ever floated in the canal.

 

Even… Wen Qingci went back and carefully sewed it up himself with a needle and thread.

 

Xie Bufeng let out a painful whimper.

 

His whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

 

Overwhelmed, he buried his face in the softest fur on the snow wolf’s belly.

 

This is the last gift he gave to Wen Qingci.

 

But in the end, this gift failed to bring Wen Qingci the warmth that he wanted to give him.

 

Instead, it gave him endless pain and coldness.

 

This realization instantly crushed the young man.

 

The tremendous pain seemed to pull his soul out of his body.

 

……regret.

 

Xie Bufeng has never regretted as much as he does now.

 

He curled himself up into a ball, nestled in Wen Qingci’s bedding, greedily sniffing the familiar bitter fragrance around him.

 

In less than two years, a ditch appeared before Xie Bufeng’s eyes.

 

The cold waves of the Yinchuan Grand Canal passed through time and swallowed him at this moment.

 

He seemed to have returned to that day and saw a young man in black clothes throwing something in his sleeves into the canal.

 

No matter how childish Wen Qingci was, a light kiss was placed on his ear.

 

—Stop!

 

——Don’t throw it!

 

He roared at his past self across time and space.

 

But the young man, feeling hopeless, ignored it.

 

Xie Bufeng saw that he gave Wen Qingci his last kiss on his lips and left without looking back.

 

Then, Wen Qingci jumped into the rolling waves right in front of him.

 

——Wen Qingci, don’t jump!

 

Xie Bufeng roared loudly.

 

But he tried his best and still couldn’t stop this from happening.

 

…Xie Guanzhi was right, it was clearly just a piece of ragged fur, why, why did you do that?