After the imperial physician left, the bedchamber fell quiet for a moment.
Qi Yu leaned against the head of the bed, his injured right ankle resting on two stacked cushions, its shiny, swollen skin carefully wrapped in several layers of medicated cloth. He picked at the embroidered dragon on the quilt with his fingers, tugged twice, smoothed it down, then picked at it again. He did not dare look up at his father beside the bed.
Qi Xiao stood before the bed, looking down at him. He had not said a word on the way back from the palace gates, carrying him in his arms. While the imperial physician set the bone, he had stood beside them without speaking from beginning to end. Now the physician had left, Chun He had carried out the basin of bloodstained water, and A Ping had taken away the torn outer robe. Only father and son remained in the bedchamber.
"A Ping." Qi Xiao did not turn around.
A Ping leaned halfway through the doorway. "Your servant is here."
"Go and fetch the disciplinary ruler."
A Ping froze, his feet rooted to the spot. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something. He looked at Qi Yu on the bed. Qi Yu raised his head too, the tears in his eyes not yet dry, his gaze pleading for help. A Ping looked at De'an next. De'an stood in the doorway and gave him a slight nod. That nod meant: go. A Ping turned and left, dragging his steps very slowly.
The ruler was brought over. It was bamboo, two fingers wide, its surface polished to an oily sheen. Grand Tutor Sun had given them this ruler, saying that His Majesty should feel free to use it whenever he had occasion to. It