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墨書 Inktalez
That figure was far too familiar to him.
Over the past two months, it had often appeared in his dreams, waking him in the middle of the night with a heart-wrenching pain. He had thought countless times that if he had not adhered so strictly to propriety, if he had met Song Feiwan a few more times and let her know his true feelings, would things have turned out differently? At the very least, he would not have been like Xiao Yu, bringing other women into the residence while disregarding her as his rightful consort!
After Song Feiwan was buried, he and Xiao Yu maintained a facade of being sovereign and brother, but in reality, they hadn’t exchanged a single word privately since then. Jealousy, resentment, and anger had quietly transformed them.
The pressure of the capital weighed heavily on him, and just then, a major case required investigation in Jiangnan. He decided to lead a team there personally. The moment he laid eyes on that female doctor, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. Through her, he saw the beloved visage of Song Feiwan—the memories of her smile and laughter flooded back.
Nostalgia, sorrow, and pain tore at his chest. His eyes reddened slightly, but he managed to hold back any disrespectful actions thanks to the last shred of rationality within him. His subordinate was explaining: “Yes, that doctor’s surname is Chen. She may not be well-known, but her medical skills are quite good. Our men are new to Wujin City and unaccustomed to the local conditions; after taking her medicine, they felt much better.”
But Chen had already moved far away.
Rong Jiayi pulled his gaze back with an ambiguous hum.
In the capital, late at night.
Winter had arrived; the cold wind howled as white snowflakes drifted down from the sky. Dressed in a black cloak and wearing a silver crown, Xiao Yu rode swiftly through the desolate streets on horseback.
Zhuo Da rode another horse silently beside him. They were headed back to the Ministry of War; ahead lay a fork in the road—taking the left would be quicker. Yet Zhuo Da said nothing; he knew Xiao Yu would surely choose the right path. As expected, Xiao Yu pulled on the reins and turned right. After so many times, Zhuo Da could guess Xiao Yu’s intentions easily.
The road to the left would lead to the Prince's residence. For the past two months, Xiao Yu had not spent a single night in the royal palace. During the day, he would rush in and out, barely pausing to catch his breath.
He had taken up residence in a small courtyard at the Ministry of War, where the lights burned all night long. In the past, although he spoke little, he would share a few words when in good spirits. Now, unless absolutely necessary, he could go an entire day without uttering a sound.
When socializing with officials from the Ministry of War, he would raise his cup and exchange laughter, appearing genuinely immersed in the festivities. Yet every night upon returning to his small courtyard, he would find himself uncontrollably vomiting, expelling everything he had eaten and drunk.
At first, Zhuo Da advised him to drink less, but soon realized that regardless of whether Xiao Yu ate too much or too little, he would still vomit. It became clear to him that this was not a physical ailment but rather a mental one.
Though Xiao Yu appeared invincible and unstoppable on the surface, having gained control over most of the Ministry of War in just two short months, internally he was already decaying and rotting away.
Zhuo Da understood where Xiao Yu's changes stemmed from but dared not mention Song Feiwan to him, fearing his wrath as someone who had been exiled back to the grasslands. Instead, after returning to the small courtyard, he cautiously asked, "Your Highness, tomorrow is a day off. Would you like me to summon the imperial physician for a follow-up examination?"
Xiao Yu responded with a detached "mm," then entered and closed the door behind him. Zhuo Da's heart remained heavy with worry because what Xiao Yu sought from the physician was not merely a remedy for his mental distress but rather treatment for old injuries from his past.
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