Chapter Sixty-One: Returning to the Seventh Prince's Residence

Yu Hualiang was startled and hurriedly helped Ye Hao up, saying, “Your Highness, this is all my fault. If not for Guard Ye, I fear I would have lost my life already.”

The Fourth Prince looked at Yu Hualiang with deep concern. “Do you know what my seventh brother instructed? Not a single hair on your head should be harmed, and yet you’ve sustained such a grave injury. How can I face my seventh brother now?”

Yu Hualiang sighed. “Your Highness needn’t worry. This wound... I’ll pretend it never happened.”

The Fourth Prince raised his brows. “Oh? For the sake of a mere servant, you’d hide your injury?”

“Didn’t Your Highness also wish for me to do so, in order to spare Guard Ye’s life?” Yu Hualiang bargained.

The Fourth Prince gave a languid smile. “This servant still has his uses to me, so I must ask you to bear this for now, little painter.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m thrice blessed to be of service to Your Highness,” Yu Hualiang replied.

“You do have a glib tongue. Come, accompany me to the assembly hall,” said the Fourth Prince, closing his folding fan.

Yu Hualiang bowed. “After you, Your Highness.”

As they left, Ye Hao looked at him, making Yu Hualiang feel uneasy all over.

He dared not meet Ye Hao’s gaze, afraid to see the reproach in his eyes—for it was all his fault, and he had almost cost Ye Hao his life.

Though injured, Yu Hualiang felt no grievance. After all, he brought this upon himself and could blame no one else. Fortunately, the wound was minor and healed in a few days. It wouldn’t be difficult to keep it from the Seventh Prince. The Fourth Prince had come mainly to announce the imperial painter for his household.

As expected, Wang Ji was chosen without dispute. Yu Hualiang stood to the side, smiling as he watched. After Wang Ji finished thanking the Fourth Prince, he came to thank Yu Hualiang, his recommender.

A gentle breeze blew, revealing the youthful grace of Wang Ji’s features. He bowed to Yu Hualiang. “Qingyi thanks you, Master Yu, for your recommendation.”

Yu Hualiang helped him up. “You deserve it. One day, I’m sure you’ll become a master painter in your own right.”

Wang Ji blushed, embarrassed. “Master Yu flatters me...”

Yu Hualiang laughed. “Not at all, for it is certain.”

The Fourth Prince joined in, “In time, our little painter here will also become a great master.”

“I hardly count,” Yu Hualiang replied with a smile.

The Fourth Prince leaned closer. “Now that this is settled, when shall we meet again?”

Yu Hualiang stepped back slightly. “Your Highness need only visit the Seventh Prince’s manor more often, and I shall be sure to capture your elegance in my paintings.”

“I’ll take that as an invitation. You mustn’t go back on your word,” the Fourth Prince said.

Yu Hualiang nodded and laughed awkwardly. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Well then, that’s all for today. Little painter, go get ready; we’ll escort you back to your residence.”

Yu Hualiang clasped his hands in thanks. “My gratitude, Your Highness.”

In public, Yu Hualiang could still endure the pain, but back in his room, he gritted his teeth and broke out in a cold sweat from the hurt.

Though a minor wound, wrapping it so tightly was uncomfortable and risked inflammation. Having learned from a previous knife injury, Yu Hualiang at least knew to clean the wound himself and re-bandage it.

Fortunately, Wang Ruosheng had left him medicine. Yu Hualiang felt particularly unlucky—why did he always seem to court disaster?

A minor injury every three days, a serious one every five.

Just as he was brooding, Wang Ruosheng arrived with a medicinal decoction. Noticing the bloody water in the basin, he asked, “What’s this? You’re treating your own wounds now?”

Yu Hualiang joked, “Well, an old patient eventually becomes his own doctor.”

Wang Ruosheng laughed. “Master Yu, ever since you entered the Seventh Prince’s manor, trouble has followed you.”

Suddenly, a superstitious thought struck Yu Hualiang—was he somehow at odds with the Seventh Prince’s household?

Otherwise, why did all these misfortunes befall him? After finishing the bitter medicine, he casually asked, “How many more days must I take this?”

With a serious look, Wang Ruosheng enunciated, “Seven days. Not a day less.”

Yu Hualiang hesitated. “The Fourth Prince... wants me to keep this injury secret.”

Wang Ruosheng frowned. “What? You don’t want to take the medicine?”

Yu Hualiang sighed. “Physician Wang, be kind—write down the prescription for this wound medicine for me.”

“Hm? Why do you want the prescription?”

Yu Hualiang pressed his luck. “And maybe describe what the herbs look like, too.”

“What are you up to?” Wang Ruosheng asked suspiciously.

Yu Hualiang sighed again. “Given my luck, I have a feeling I’ll be injured again. If you’re not around next time, I should be able to help myself.”

Wang Ruosheng watched him for a while. “Feels like you’re scheming something.”

Yu Hualiang grinned. “Nothing of the sort. Come on, help a friend out.”

Wang Ruosheng, considering Yu Hualiang a friend, described the herbs, never expecting Yu Hualiang to pick up on a few keywords and accurately draw the medicinal plants.

Wang Ruosheng was amazed, while Yu Hualiang quietly tucked the prescription into his clothes.

As he was leaving, Yu Hualiang looked at Wang Ruosheng for a long moment before asking, “You and Ji Yuzhe...”

“What does Master Yu wish to ask?” Wang Ruosheng suddenly grew serious. Yu Hualiang just smiled and let the matter drop.

After sending off the Fourth Prince’s carriage, Wang Ruosheng hurried back to Ji’an Hall. Guichun stood at the door in a thin medicine-boy’s robe to greet him.

Seeing how lightly Guichun was dressed, Wang Ruosheng scolded, “What are you doing standing out here? Go back inside.”

Looking dejected, Guichun followed him in.

The child was sensible. As soon as Wang Ruosheng sat down, Guichun poured a cup of hot tea for him. Wang Ruosheng regarded him coolly. “Recite the formula song I taught you earlier.”

“Zhongjing’s Ma Xing Gan Shi Tang, pungent and cool, ventilates the lungs and clears heat well; when evil heat congests the lungs, cough and asthma come quick, whether sweating or not, it’s worth a try.” Guichun recited fluently, expecting praise, but Wang Ruosheng asked him to recite another.

Guichun faltered. “Qingjin Huatan... huangqin zhi, jiegeng maidong sang bei zhi, gua lou, juhong, fuling, cao, for phlegm-fire invading the lungs and stopping cough.”

Wang Ruosheng shot him a glance—just passable. Guichun narrowly escaped a ruler’s smack.

“Don’t think you can slack off now. These formula songs must be memorized thoroughly, until you can recite them fluently.”

Guichun bowed. “Your words, sir, I will remember always.”

Wang Ruosheng rubbed his brow. “Enough, go take your medicine.”

After Guichun left, Dr. Wang came in to check on him. Wang Ruosheng greeted him, “Father.”

Dr. Wang waved him off. “How is young Guichun?”

Wang Ruosheng answered honestly, “He’s teachable.”

Dr. Wang sat down, gazed upward, and suddenly sighed. “Seeing that boy reminds me of when you were young—bright, but terribly mischievous. Now you’ve grown, and I can finally rest easy.”

“I shouldn’t have troubled you so when I was a child,” said Wang Ruosheng with a smile.

“No matter how old a child gets, in a parent’s eyes, he is always a child. I’m getting old, may not have many years left. You’re not young anymore... isn’t it time...”

“Father, there are so many urgent and difficult illnesses to treat now, I really have no mind to start a family.”

From childhood, he’d hardly ever gone against his father’s wishes—except in the matter of marriage, which he refused without hesitation.

Dr. Wang stroked his beard. “Ah... well, we’ll discuss it another time.”

Dr. Wang had once favored a certain match, but since his son insisted, he could only let it go. Little did he know, his son’s heart already had a place to return to.

When Yu Hualiang returned, the Seventh Prince was not yet back. Humming a tune, he walked toward his own courtyard. But the moment he saw Jin He’s meaningful smile, his own faded instantly.

“You... haven’t left yet?” Yu Hualiang asked awkwardly.

Jin He looked at him with wounded eyes. “Master Yu, do you truly wish me gone so much?”

Yu Hualiang covered his eyes, not daring to look directly at the androgynous figure. “Speak properly—don’t be so... indecent,” he warned.

Jin He didn’t mind. “Do you know who came after you left?”

“Who?” Yu Hualiang replied nonchalantly.

“The Emperor,” Jin He answered bluntly.

Yu Hualiang perked up, sitting straight. “The Emperor! Did you see him?”

Jin He nodded. The Seventh Prince had chosen these days to send Yu Hualiang away, and Yu could guess why—likely to keep him from offending the Emperor with his lack of decorum.

If he did, not even the Seventh Prince could protect him.

Yu Hualiang sipped his tea, reflecting on whether the Seventh Prince’s protectiveness was a little excessive.

But Jin He’s next words made him spit tea everywhere.

“I heard the Emperor has a fondness for men.”

“What?” Yu Hualiang stared wide-eyed at Jin He.

Jin He went on, “Just a rumor. Why are you so surprised, Master Yu?”

Yu Hualiang took another sip. “No reason.”

Jin He said, “Since ancient times, emperors have loved both beautiful women and handsome men. You’d best get used to it.”

“I’m not sure I ever could,” Yu Hualiang sighed.

“Ziliang.”

Hearing the voice, Yu Hualiang looked over to see the Seventh Prince standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

A gentle breeze stirred his hair, just as it stirred the strings of Yu Hualiang’s heart, setting them trembling and soft, leaving an itch behind.

Yu Hualiang didn’t know why he felt this way, but he found himself growing addicted to the sensation.

He smiled back. “You’ve returned, Zicheng.”

Overjoyed, the Seventh Prince went over and swept Yu Hualiang into a tight embrace.

The hug made Yu’s arm ache, and he struggled to free it, but still wrapped his other arm around the prince’s back in response.

“Ziliang, they say a day apart feels like three years. I feel as if a lifetime has passed. I missed you so much.”

Yu Hualiang soothed him like a child. “Enough, Zicheng. If you carry on like this, people will laugh.”

“Let’s see who dares laugh at me,” the Seventh Prince retorted, his stubbornness making him quite troublesome indeed.

The moment the Seventh Prince entered, Jin He had quietly slipped out—he knew well enough.

When the door closed, Yu Hualiang inwardly cursed. He gently pushed the prince away, but seeing the wolfish hunger in his eyes, Yu Hualiang suddenly felt a trace of fear.

“Um... Zicheng, have you eaten? Why don’t we have dinner first?” Yu Hualiang tried to slip away, but the prince grabbed his arm, yanking him back forcefully.

Yu Hualiang felt his arm go numb from pain, and after a muffled groan, the prince pinned him to the bed.

With heat and longing in his voice, the prince whispered, “I want to devour you, Ziliang...”

“Hm?” Yu Hualiang realized things were getting out of hand—the Seventh Prince was terrifying when he got like this.

With a look of horror, he shoved the prince off the bed. “Mu Zicheng, compose yourself!”

Sitting on the floor, the prince only laughed, teasing Yu Hualiang’s blushing cheeks. “Ziliang, you really are like a girl.”

As Yu Hualiang straightened his clothes, the prince pounced again, pinning him beneath his weight.

“If you’re unwilling, I won’t force you. But I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep or eat. Will you cure me, Ziliang?”

Seeing the prince’s meaningful smile, Yu Hualiang felt more than ever that he was up against a cunning opponent—how could he possibly win?

Yu Hualiang sighed and frowned. “Get up first.”