Celestial Dew (3)

For the three days Shen Yuxi lay unconscious, it had been nothing more than a muddled dream to him. To everyone else, however, it had been an ordeal so long it had nearly solidified.

True Person Yu Qing kept vigil in his bedchamber, never leaving his seated posture. A faint spiritual glow gathered at his fingertips as he repeatedly probed Shen Yuxi's brow. Nothing was wrong with Shen Yuxi's body, yet he refused to wake. How could True Person Yu Qing not be frantic?

Shen Yuxi had been unconscious for three days. True Person Yu Qing had cared for him without taking a single step away for three days, and Lin Huaixu had knelt for three days as well. At first, his knees had gone numb. Then they began to ache, until finally all that remained was a stiff, wooden deadness.

He accepted the punishment readily enough, assuming an obedient posture that seemed to say: however long Shen Yuxi slept, he would kneel for just as long.

Shen Yuxi regained consciousness amid a waft of sandalwood incense.

The fragrance was faint, yet it stubbornly slipped into his nostrils, like a little fish gently stirring his muddled mind.

He frowned. His eyelids trembled several times, and only after expending tremendous effort did he manage to lift them. At first, all he saw was a blur of white. A moment later, his gaze focused—it was the familiar canopy of green gauze, thin enough that he could vaguely make out the sandalwood bedframe above it.

He blinked, and his clouded consciousness gathered little by little, like morning light breaking through thick fog.

"...Clear Parasol Hall?"

The dazed confusion of waking faded when he recognized the familiar aura around him, and his shoulders unconsciously relaxed.

"Qingming, how do you feel?"

The voice that suddenly