Chapter 4

At last, I’d found this virgin prince’s weak spot!

He was terrified I would rob him of his chastity!

A little teasing, a few dirty words, and he did practically anything I said.

I returned with his medicine, tossed it into his arms, and drawled, “There. Brew it yourself.”

Clutching the packets, he snapped, “I don’t know how!”

I looked him up and down with a grin. “Give me a couple of kisses and I’ll do it. Good bargain, isn’t it?”

He glared and muttered, “Filthy lecher.”

He chopped his own wood, lit the stove, and boiled water for the medicine.

Brewing medicine required care. The fire couldn’t be too high, nor the water too low.

He had to sit by the stove for four whole hours without moving away.

I sat nearby eating fruit and watched him burn his hand, then knock over the stove.

His hands were covered in blisters. Lips pressed together, he glared at the stove as though it were his sworn enemy.

Apparently his brain had gone soft, too. He reached for a piece of wood still burning on the ground.

“Idiot.” I caught his wrist before he could cook those hands of his.

I borrowed a needle from the embroideress, passed it through a flame, and lanced his blisters.

“Once the ointment’s on, don’t wrap them in cloth. Too hot—they’ll fester.” I handed him a cucumber. “Here. Soothe your throat.”

Blockhead. Two hours and he’d managed nothing at all.

I righted the stove, added fresh wood, and set the medicine pot on it.

Fortunately, none of the medicine had spilled.

When the stove toppled, he’d grabbed the pot first.

He was learning to value things. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

“When the fire gets low, don’t just keep stuffing wood in. Fan it like this.” I put the fan in his other hand and guided his arm, applying a little pressure. “There. That much force. Once it picks up, check the wood inside. When it’s about half burned through, put in some small pieces. And when you first add wood, don’t pack it too tightly or it won’t burn. Split it like this and stack it up.”

The medicine bubbled and steamed, giving off a bitter smell.

Prince An said nothing. His eyes were lowered as he listened carefully.

When I let go of him, his ears were scarlet.

Fan in hand, he tended the fire with care. This time he did wonderfully.

He really was extraordinarily handsome, a noble son born to silk and wealth.

His bearing was elegant, his features beautiful without being feminine. That peerless face could make a person forget their troubles.

Six months, and the emperor hadn’t once inquired after him. It was as though he meant to leave him locked here until he died.

Falling from the clouds into the mud couldn’t have been easy for him.

“Your legs are much better. Stop using the crutches tomorrow.” I took a packet of candied fruit from my clothes and offered it to him. “I know you’re bitter inside, and the medicine’s bitter, too. But life has to go on. Laugh or cry, the day passes just the same. Why not take things a little easier?”

He stared at the packet without taking it.

I drew his hand over and placed it in his palm. “This isn’t cheap stuff that costs a few coppers. I asked Uncle Liu, and he said you liked Sanwei Shop. This tiny bit cost ten taels. I’ve never eaten anything so expensive in my life. I’d love to know whether it tastes like silver.”

He said nothing, only opened the oiled-paper packet, picked out a piece, and held it toward me.

He didn’t look at me. Face turned aside, hand thrust forward, he might have been feeding the air.

I bent my head and bit it, brushing his hand with my lips.

He whipped his head around and glared.

Meeting his eyes, I said deliberately, “So sweet. You can really taste the difference when it’s something precious.”

“What nonsense are you talking?” Now his whole face was red.

“Oh, the candied fruit, of course! Did you think I meant you?”

That made him even less willing to speak to me.

Then I saw Uncle Liu hurrying over.

“You rotten girl!” he said anxiously. “You told me to take candied fruit to Guard Lin. Don’t tell me you’ve taken a fancy to him! He’s a decent, innocent lad. Don’t you ruin him!”

Prince An sprang to his feet. Without even taking his crutches, he limped away!

I smiled and called after him, “I’ll bring the medicine when it’s ready! Leave the door open!”

Uncle Liu stared in bewilderment. “What’s got into His Highness? He hates anyone seeing him limp. Are his eyebrows on fire? Why’s he running so fast?”

“Not his eyebrows. His heart.” I glanced at the medicine pot and chuckled. “Just the right amount of heat.”