Chapter 8
A hand closed firmly around my arm and pulled me to my feet.
The injury to my left knee had not healed properly.
I stumbled into his arms.
“Your knee’s a wreck, and you still insist on being stubborn.”
He scolded me, all the exhaustion of three months in his voice.
I closed my eyes briefly. “Your Majesty, this is improper.”
He did not let go. His grip tightened.
“When we used to eat and sleep together, why did you never mention propriety?”
My throat felt blocked.
Yet what came out was something else. “Your Majesty has Consort Xian now.”
He looked down at me for a moment. His quiet laughter vibrated against my shoulder.
“Xie Yuanzhen.”
“I thought you’d really become a saint.”
My ears burned. I tried to draw away, but his hand held the small of my back.
I could not retreat a single step.
The night wind passed through the courtyard.
After a long while, he asked,
“Why didn’t you answer those three letters?”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“Did you not know what to say,”
“or did you not want to answer?”
I had not dared.
He did not press me further. His tone eased a little.
“Xie Yuanzhen, do you know”
“what I was thinking while you left those letters unanswered?”
On the day the letters were sent, it had snowed again in the north.
“The Imperial Observatory said the snowfall was heavier than last year’s.”
“I was thinking how you feel the cold, yet always complain that the braziers are too smoky when you travel.”
“Without someone watching you, you’d probably not even drink your medicine.”
I lowered my head. “I drank it.”
“Physician Du kept such a close watch that I could hardly avoid it.”
“Does your leg still hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“Liar.”
“You can barely stand, and you still want to stay out in the wind?”
He turned toward the covered walkway.
Only then did I notice a wooden chest on the stone table.
It was crammed full.
Bottles, ointments, packets of herbs, all piled together.
He took one out. “This promotes circulation.”
He set it aside.
Then he found a white jade box. “This is for scars.”
Next came a packet of herbs. “This is for soaking your leg.”
I could not help smiling. “Wasn’t it tiring to bring all this, Your Majesty?”
Moonlight fell into the chest. He said,
“Not especially.”
“Less trouble than crawling into a snowdrift on a broken leg, as certain people do.”
The lamp was still alight, burning alone on the desk.
He looked at it. “Did you leave that lamp for me?”
“It’s just a habit.”
He laughed softly and let the excuse stand.
Pressing me down to sit on the edge of the bed, he crouched.
“Let me see your leg.”
“Don’t…”
He held my hand still and rolled up my trouser leg.
My knee had mostly healed. It was a little swollen from all the walking I had done that day.
A diagonal scar lay across it like a centipede.
When old Du stitched it up, I had nearly ground my teeth to pieces.
The medicinal oil warmed in his palm.
By the light of that lamp, he massaged it in, stroke by stroke.
“I saw the memorial announcing your return the day it arrived.”
“I counted the days.”
“You should have entered the city on the seventh day of the third month.”
“But you were delayed on the road for two days.”
I went still. He thought I was in pain.
His touch grew lighter.
“Xiao Shunzi said the roads were slippery after the rain, that I shouldn’t go up to the gate tower and stand in the wind.”
“Such a nuisance.”