BLPSG Chapter 88.1

Complex emotions were now all hidden beneath his jet-black pupils.

 

Only Wen Qingci knew just how complicated his feelings were at this moment.

 

The hall was completely silent.

 

Xie Bufeng lowered his gaze, looking deeply into Wen Qingci’s eyes, waiting for his answer.

 

Time stood still in the dim candlelight.

 

After an unknown period, Wen Qingci also slowly lowered his gaze.

 

Xie Bufeng’s breathing stopped in that instant.

 

…He was waiting for that answer.

 

But before he could react, Wen Qingci suddenly turned away.

 

Xie Bufeng immediately clenched his jaw, his heart experiencing a dull pain.

 

Was Qingci still going to leave?

 

Just as this thought emerged, he realized in the next second—Wen Qingci wasn’t heading toward the hall door.

 

…Instead, he turned and walked toward another candlestick at the side of the hall, then took a fire starter from nearby and lit the candles.

 

The flame instantly ignited, encircling the dragon-shaped candlestick.

 

In the blink of an eye, the entire side hall brightened.

 

Eyes accustomed to darkness narrowed slightly.

 

That slender, pale figure suddenly seemed to gain warmth in this moment.

 

A clear, refreshing voice also sounded. Xie Bufeng heard Wen Qingci say calmly: “The ‘four examinations’ of looking, listening, questioning, and feeling the pulse—none can be omitted. Lighting the lamps makes it easier to diagnose illness.”

 

After speaking, he turned and picked up the medicine box he had set aside earlier.

 

His movements were still as elegant as in Xie Bufeng’s memory.

 

A familiar bitter fragrance spread at the tip of his nose.

 

Immense joy instantly dispersed the dull pain in Xie Bufeng’s heart.

 

…Wen Qingci had not left.

 

At least today he hadn’t left.

 

*

 

The dosage of medicine Xie Bufeng had taken was not small. Even if Wen Qingci wanted to, as a “half-trained” medicine man, his blood would be completely insufficient to detoxify Xie Bufeng.

 

From any perspective, this young emperor had indeed left himself no way out.

 

With poison still in his system, Xie Bufeng’s condition was not good, often leaving him fatigued.

 

After getting his answer, he was ordered to rest by Wen Qingci, who had resumed his role as an Imperial physician.

 

At this point, he actually listened obediently.

 

After finishing everything, Wen Qingci finally walked through the familiar pathways of the Imperial Medical Bureau, heading alone toward that small courtyard.

 

Although he knew what pills Xie Bufeng had taken, to quickly create an antidote, he needed to first clarify the exact proportions of the ingredients.

 

Even Wen Qingci couldn’t possibly remember all their components by heart.

 

But if he wasn’t mistaken, the medical books he had brought to Yongdu should have records of them.

 

Those books should still be in his former residence…

 

Wen Qingci’s footsteps echoed in the empty palace corridors, sounding particularly lonely.

 

But the rhythmic echoes beneath his feet finally helped his mood gradually calm down.

 

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Wen Qingci slowly stopped and stood before the familiar courtyard gate, looking up at the tall magnolia tree inside.

 

After becoming a Hanlin Scholar, Wen Qingci had acquired his own residence outside the palace.

 

But for him, this small courtyard in the Imperial Medical Bureau was his true “home” during those years.

 

After pausing for a moment to prepare himself mentally, he finally carefully pushed open the gate and walked in.

 

…Everything still maintained its original appearance.

 

The late summer sun was still scorching, and the air somewhat dry.

 

In the corner of the courtyard, bamboo baskets were filled with medicinal herbs being dried in the sun, and even… it seemed as if someone had recently rearranged them.

 

Wen Qingci hesitated for a moment. Instead of immediately returning to his bedroom, he walked toward the side room.

 

The clay stove and the purple clay pot he had used to brew magnolia porridge were still properly placed there, and the ceramic bottle beside them still contained magnolia petals from years ago.

 

Wen Qingci couldn’t help reaching out to brush his hand over the stove. Surprisingly, not even a speck of dust clung to his fingertips.

 

In this moment and setting, he couldn’t help but have an illusion—that the residual warmth on the clay stove had not yet completely dissipated.

 

Stop thinking about random things and focus on the task at hand!

 

Realizing he was distracted, Wen Qingci quickly pulled his thoughts back.

 

He hurriedly left the side room and headed toward the bedroom.

 

With a light scraping sound, the wooden door was slowly pushed open by Wen Qingci.

 

Like everything else in the courtyard, this place still maintained its appearance from years ago…

 

The bedding was neatly folded on the bed, while cabinets and chairs were all completely dust-free.

 

It was as if the owner had just stepped out briefly and would return shortly.

 

Standing in the room, Wen Qingci felt momentarily disoriented.

 

Had Xie Bufeng personally arranged all this?

 

How could that be possible? He was now the ruler of a nation—how would he have the time to come here daily to tidy up the room?

 

—Almost as soon as this thought emerged, Wen Qingci dismissed it himself.

 

His gaze swept across the small room, finally landing on the writing desk in the corner.

 

Wen Qingci finally remembered his task and quickly walked to the desk to search through the materials.

 

Those few poisons had no ready-made antidote, only detoxification methods.

 

If Xie Bufeng had only taken one type, the poison might be easier to counteract.

 

But with so many mixed together, he would have to consider interactions and contraindications, deliberating carefully.

 

The candlelight illuminated the small bedroom, casting a particularly soft glow on Wen Qingci’s features.

 

Whenever he looked at medical books, he would become completely absorbed.

 

After finding the medical text that recorded those pills, Wen Qingci began writing and sketching on paper, contemplating methods of detoxification.

 

By the time he became aware of his surroundings again, the moon was already high in the sky.

 

Wen Qingci slowly put down his brush and stood up to stretch his wrists.

 

It was already late; he should rest soon.

 

Just then, the slightly cool late summer night breeze suddenly blew in through the window, gently caressing Wen Qingci’s face—no longer obscured by a veiled hat—causing his black hair to dance lightly behind him.

 

Wen Qingci’s gaze involuntarily fell toward the window.

 

What had been just a casual glance unexpectedly revealed—Xie Bufeng, dressed entirely in black, holding a lantern, walking slowly through the palace path into the courtyard.

 

Their gazes met at this moment.

 

“…Your Majesty?” Wen Qingci was startled and immediately averted his eyes.

 

Wait, what was Xie Bufeng doing here in the middle of the night?

 

The courtyard wasn’t large. With Xie Bufeng’s height and long legs, it took only a few steps for him to cross the small yard and reach the door.

 

Without giving Wen Qingci any time to think, by the time he realized what was happening, Xie Bufeng had already blown out the lantern and gently hung it outside the house.

 

At this moment, Wen Qingci finally remembered that while in Lianhe County, a young physician had told him—Xie Bufeng still lived in his old quarters.

 

So… he had naturally come here to sleep!

 

He had indeed been Xie Bufeng’s roommate for a long time.

 

But how could that compare to today?

 

Back then, Xie Bufeng was still a youth, but now… he had grown into a man, and had said such things to him.

 

With his attention drawn away from the books, Xie Bufeng’s words softly whispered in his ear not long ago once again echoed in Wen Qingci’s heart.

 

Like a stone dropping into a cold pond.

 

The quiet night, together with the silence, amplified the intimacy in the room.

 

Despite having lived here for years.

 

Only now did Wen Qingci realize just how small this bedroom really was.

 

Wen Qingci couldn’t help taking half a step back. Struggling to maintain composure, he pretended not to understand and reminded him: “Won’t Your Majesty return to the palace to rest tonight?”

 

 

His inner thoughts were extremely vivid, but outwardly he could only pretend to be calm.

 

Unlike Wen Qingci, Xie Bufeng’s tone was utterly serene, as if he were simply answering Wen Qingci’s confusion: “This place has been my daily residence for the past year.”

 

He paused briefly and added: “…I haven’t moved into Yiguang Hall, and Yuguang Palace has been uninhabited for a long time, still in ruins.”

 

Xie Bufeng’s voice was deep and slightly hoarse.

 

It carried a naturally convincing power.

 

Yiguang Hall was the sleeping chamber of emperors throughout the dynasties.

 

The deposed Emperor Xie Zhaolin had lived there before his death, and the palace coup also erupted outside Yiguang Hall—it carried ill fortune no matter how you looked at it.

 

It was understandable that Xie Bufeng didn’t want to go there.

 

As for Yuguang Palace, it had long been in disrepair—it was already inappropriate to house a prince there, let alone have the emperor reside there…

 

Wen Qingci nodded somewhat heavily.

 

How had he not known that His Imperial Majesty had so many “misfortunes”?

 

Everyone in Taishu Palace knew that Xie Bufeng had transformed the former Imperial Medical Bureau into his residence.

 

At this moment, Wen Qingci really had no way to righteously “invite” the emperor to leave.

 

As for himself.

 

Being a “dead man,” he certainly couldn’t wander around Taishu Palace in the middle of the night looking for accommodation.

 

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