LBLCPCB C16

Chapter 16

“Stop!”

Zhu Song shouted the word, but already it was too late. Before the sound even left his lips, Wen Fengxuan had collapsed onto the ground.

For one fleeting instant, under the faint moonlight, it seemed as though Wen Fengxuan’s dim eyes lifted toward him. But in the thick darkness and his own panic, Zhu Song could not be sure what he had seen.

He rushed forward, crouched, and pulled the man into his arms. “Hey—are you alright?”

Moonlight revealed Wen Fengxuan’s lips, darkening to black. Zhu Song’s hand flew to his nose and mouth.

Thank the heavens—there was still breath.

No time to think. Zhu swept Wen into his arms and broke into a dead run. By now, after wandering the Eastern Palace so many nights, he knew every turn. Straight towards the main gates.

But suddenly, a black‑clad figure dropped before him, long sword glinting in cold light. A muffled voice barked: “Put him down.”

Zhu’s eyes narrowed. The man wore a veil hastily tied, askew from haste. Clearly no friend. Zhu snapped back without hesitation, bellowing:

“Fire! Fire in the palace!”

The intruder startled—confused. Zhu’s glare burned into him as he roared: “To snatch people from the Eastern Palace? You dare such insolence!”

Disbelief flashed in the assassin’s eyes. Already the palace guards had roused at the cry: “Where’s the fire?” “What’s burning?” The clamor swelled.

Seeing circumstances turn, the masked man vanished into shadow.

Zhu wasted no moment—bolted past, clutching Wen Fengxuan, heart hammering: Damn it, I should have brought a carriage. But regret was useless. All he could do was fly through the night.

He burst into his household and rushed straight to Xu Songlan’s quarters. He did not knock—slammed the door open, stumbling when it yielded easily, already ajar. The room lay dark. “Xu Songlan!” he called.

Silence.

Carrying the unconscious prince back out, he spotted Xu Songlan returning, startled. “Lord Zhu? Who—who is this?”

“No time. A friend—poisoned. See to him,” Zhu ordered.

Hearing “poison,” Xu instantly sobered. “Quick—lay him down.”

The lamps flared. Wen Fengxuan’s pallor was ghastly, lips black, eyes ringed blue. Xu’s own face paled. He checked pupils, felt the pulse, then swore: “This is oleander poison¹.”

“I know that,” Zhu hissed through clenched teeth. “What’s the antidote?”

Xu shook his head. “Not just oleander. More toxins mingle within. One simple poison, I could cure. But this mixture—I cannot.”

“Then who can?” Zhu’s voice thundered.

Xu steadied himself. “Lord need not fret. I just heard: the legendary physician of Ghost Valley² has arrived in the capital. Lodged at the Tianyue Inn. If he acts, the prince will live.”

Relief washed Zhu. Luck, rare as it was.

Within the hour they crashed into the inn. The keeper hurried at their knocking.

“Which room is the Ghost Valley Physician?” Zhu demanded.

The man blinked. “Ghost Valley—I know not.”

Xu tried: “Then which room is Su Li’s?”³

Recognition dawned. “Ah—He’s in Heaven Room Three. I’ll lead you.”

As they tramped upstairs, the chatty innkeeper rambled: “That young master came in haste, near knocked our doors apart. Mouth sharp, temper fierce. Haven’t seen his like in all my years here. Who’d expect such was a divine healer.”

Zhu ignored him. Xu humored his chatter. “Indeed. Only just came from Qingzhou. Mysterious man. Few have glimpsed his face.”

“And wears a mask,” the innkeeper added, lowering his voice.

At Room Three, he knocked. “Guest—emergency, please help.”

A cold voice from within: “Sleeping. Not saving.”

WHAM! Zhu kicked the door clean off. The thunderous crash woke half the inn. The keeper stammered: “Y‑your lordship—explain, I’ll soothe them!”

Zhu strode straight in, bearing Wen Fengxuan. Xu lit the lamps. On the bed sat a man upright with a flash of silver mask, gaze sharp and cold. “Who are you?”

Zhu held up his court badge. “Judicial Court. Save him.”

Mask and voice had been cold and haughty, but the instant his eyes lighted Wen Fengxuan, his demeanor shifted. Without further words, his hands flew deftly over diagnostics.

Zhu, too distracted, did not even notice the flicker of worry—or the fleeting glare—the healer tossed his way.

Diagnosis came quick. He pried open the limp lips, slid in a pill. “This pill will only preserve his heart for now. True cure requires a piece of dragon bone⁴—heritage medicine of the Xu family of Qingzhou.”

Xu exclaimed breathlessly: “Then I shall dispatch for it at once!”

The masked man’s words were crisp: “The pill holds five days. Fetch it before then.”

Four days, at best. Zhu’s gut clenched. “And if we bring it—where find you?”

“I’ll remain here half a month. Tianyue Inn,” Su Li replied easily.

Zhu’s voice hardened. “This is a matter of state justice. Play no tricks—or face the Court.”

The man’s eyes gleamed with contemptuous humor. “Rest assured—I know the law.”

Leaving, Zhu turned to Xu. “Must we write a letter? Any token?”

Xu tugged the jade rabbit pendant from his neck. “This is the Xu heir’s token. It will secure the dragon bone.”

Zhu placed Wen Fengxuan in his care. “Time is dire. I will go myself. You take him back—hand him straight to my father. Tell him: a surprise.”

Xu, sensing the gravity, promised fervently: “Fear not. I will deliver him intact to Lord Zhu Senior.”

With a clap to his shoulder, Zhu ran back into the night, bought a horse at the inn, noted the debt onto his father’s accounts, and raced out the city gates under Court seal—toward Qingzhou.

But as Xu carried the barely breathing Wen into the quiet streets, dread thickened. Canopy of dark, moonlight stark—his eyes dropped on lips as black as death. Heart chilled.

Suddenly—a stone struck his back. He spun.

“Who’s there?”

Wind shrieked past his ear. A black‑masked man surged close. A strike to his neck. Xu crumpled at once—only time to glimpse the man snatch the form from his arms.

Damn it—the surprise! Lost! was his last thought as he blacked out.

Morning. Xu awoke at Zhu residence gates, roused by roaring rain. For a moment disoriented, then memory slammed back. He staggered in.

Thunder rolled. In the courtyard he collided with Zhu Jingchen, the father, umbrella shaken. “Young man! What reckless haste is this!” the elder barked.

“Lord Zhu—disaster! The surprise is gone!” Xu panted.

“What blasted surprise? I go to Court—save it till I return.”

But Xu chased him, babbling: “Last night, Lord Zhu brought home a man—half naked, poisoned—”

Those words froze the elder. Eyes widened. “Go on.”

“He was poisoned—I could not cure—”

Relief cracked Zhu Jingchen’s face. “Thank goodness—not what I thought. I go to Court!” He brushed him aside.

Xu tried to explain further, but was shoved off.

In his sedan, the old man muttered to himself. No good. This looks too wrong. This boy drags men home every few nights? Everyone will gossip.

No. His marriage must be fixed at once. Wife, return soon—hurry plans. Best married before year’s end. Grandson next year.

His sighs turned to smug fantasy—until Court, when lateness earned him Imperial scolding.

By dusk he returned, weary, to find Xu waiting, face bitter.

At last he told his story in full.

“And that is the whole.”

Zhu Jingchen frowned. “What did he look like?”

Xu’s eyes widened, voice solemn. “Beyond beautiful. Shockingly so. None on earth compare. More splendid than celestial gods—”

“Enough!” the father cut him off. “I asked the face, not poetry.”

But from the youth’s description, the elder’s days of worry evaporated into sly delight. “Good! Good interruption!”

Then he blinked. “Wait—you said my son went where?”

“To Qingzhou. To fetch the dragon bone.”

THUMP. The elder slammed the table. “That scoundrel! Every day new trouble.”

Xu blinked, startled. “What’s wrong?”

The old man sighed heavily. “Because… the Crown Prince left the capital today. My son has gone on a fool’s errand. And worse—officers may not leave post without sanction. It’s a capital crime.”

He stared at the storm outside. “Heaven help me, what is this boy doing…”