He carried the lit stove back inside, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Resting his chin in both hands, he gazed at the sleeping Ji Feihua and recalled everything that had happened that night. Why had Ji Feihua ignored the emperor's summons and insisted on leaving the palace? He had not even dared remain there. What was he worried about? Was he afraid someone in the palace would harm him? Why had the Ice-Soul Asura Palm that struck Wen Ya been so formidable? Treating her had drained so much of Ji Feihua's power and even left him with internal injuries. Was he truly injured, or was he deliberately pretending?
The more Hu Xiaotian turned it over in his mind, the more confused he became.
Just then, Ji Feihua slowly awoke. He sat up in bed, wrapped in the quilt, and looked at the stove before turning his gaze toward Hu Xiaotian with a faint smile. In little more than two hours, he had become visibly more haggard.
"My lord, you're awake?" Hu Xiaotian asked.
"How long was I asleep?" Ji Feihua asked.
"Less than an hour. How are you feeling, my lord?"
Ji Feihua undid the ties of his headpiece, and his long hair spilled over his shoulders like a waterfall. With his eyes half open, he said, "I thought I was going to die..."
Hu Xiaotian smiled. "With your good fortune, my lord, how could anything happen to you?"
Ji Feihua sighed. "I failed to think things through. I never expected Wen Ya's injuries to be so severe. They drained a great deal of my internal power and aggravated an old injury. That's how I ended up like this."
"Why did you come here, my lord?" Hu Xiaotian asked.
"I don't understand it myself," Ji Feihua said. "At