When Emperor Xue Ye woke, the first person he saw was Xue Beng.
The fourth prince, whom everyone took for a wastrel, knelt beside the bed. His hair was disheveled, and medicine and black blood stained his cuffs. He held his father's gaunt hand, eyes red-rimmed, while berating the Imperial Physician for moving too slowly.
When Xue Ye opened his eyes, Xue Beng suddenly could not say a word.
"Father..."
Xue Ye tried to speak, but only a hoarse breath escaped his throat.
Yang Wudi immediately pressed a hand to his shoulder. "The poison isn't fully cleared. If you want to live, don't talk."
In the Bedchamber, perhaps only the Breaking Clan's chief dared speak to an emperor that way. Xue Ye did not grow angry. He closed his eyes to recover for a moment, then gently curled his fingers around the back of Xue Beng's hand.
That grip made Xue Beng lower his head, his shoulders trembling without pause.
By the time Ning Fengzhi left the Bedchamber, dawn was near.
Just before he went through the Gate, Xue Ye forced his eyes open and raised a hand toward him.
Ning Fengzhi bent close and caught a few broken words.
"Qinghe... who is he?"
The emperor clearly wanted to ask far more than that one question.
After a moment's silence, Ning Fengzhi briefly explained Qian Renxue's infiltration and everything that had happened that night. Xue Ye closed his eyes. In the space of a few breaths, the lines on his face seemed to deepen. He neither raged nor cursed. He simply drew Xue Beng's hand toward Ning Fengzhi.
"Teach him."
Ning Fengzhi gave his solemn assent.
Xue Beng lifted his head. The dullness he usually feigned in his eyes had vanished completely. Looking at the black blood and medicinal needles