A Cold

Deep autumn had settled over the capital, and the charcoal braziers in the Hall of Mental Cultivation were lit by dusk. Xiao Huaijin had been coughing a little these past few days, but he thought nothing of it. He still went to the imperial study for lessons every day, then came back and leaned over the low table to write policy essays. Once he finished, he would go out into the courtyard and draw his bow a few times. Liu An chased after him with a padded jacket, calling for him to put it on, but he ran faster than a rabbit.

When he returned from the imperial study that evening, his cough was worse than it had been that morning. Xiao Lin looked up from his memorials and glanced at him.

"Why do you keep coughing?"

Xiao Huaijin waved a hand.

"My throat's just itchy. Some water will fix it."

At dinner, he ate half a bowl less than usual and only one piece of osmanthus cake. Xiao Lin paid it little mind. Children occasionally lost their appetites; it was nothing serious.

He paid little attention to his own health, so naturally he failed to notice that something was wrong with the child. Had the wet nurse still been there, she would surely have dragged Xiao Huaijin over and made him drink ginger soup already.

That night, when Xiao Lin finished reviewing the memorials and prepared to retire, Xiao Huaijin was already curled up asleep on the bed. His pillow was still on the side nearest the wall, and he had wrapped himself tightly in the quilt, leaving only half his face exposed.

Xiao Lin took off his outer robe and lay down, reaching over out of habit to tuck in the corner of the boy's quilt. His fingertips brushed the boy's cheek and felt an abnormal heat. His hand stilled. Propping himself up, he pressed his palm to Xiao Huaijin's forehead. It was shockingly hot, and the collar of his sleeping robe was damp, soaked with sweat trapped beneath the quilt.

"Huaijin."

Somewhat panicked, he called to him at once.

Xiao Huaijin murmured a drowsy response, his voice a little hoarse.

"Father... I'm so cold."

Though he complained of the cold, his body was as hot as a little furnace. Xiao Lin immediately threw on his outer robe and went to the hall doors, lowering his voice as he ordered Liu An to fetch the director of the Imperial Medical Academy at once. Liu An dared not delay. Tucking his fly whisk beneath his arm, he turned and left, his pace more than twice as fast as usual.

While waiting for the physician, Xiao Lin sat beside the bed and tucked Xiao Huaijin's quilt around him again. In his daze, Xiao Huaijin nuzzled his face into his palm and mumbled something too indistinct to make out.

The director of the Imperial Medical Academy was practically dragged there at a run by Liu An. The elderly physician knelt beside the bed to take the boy's pulse, while Xiao Lin stood beside him. Though he said nothing, his whole being radiated frost. Liu An stood to one side, doing his utmost to make himself invisible.

After a while, the director rose shakily and bowed as he reported, "Your Majesty, His Highness has caught a wind-cold that has entered his lungs. The difference between morning and evening temperatures has been great these past few days. His Highness likely caught a draft after working up a sweat while running about. Though his fever is high, fortunately, it is not an acute illness. I will prescribe a few doses of medicine, and it should come down very soon."

"Will it come down tonight?"

"I will do my utmost. But a fever caused by wind-cold must run its course. It cannot be rushed."

Xiao Lin's expression was truly grim as he laid a hand over his son's burning forehead.

Damn it.

Why am I not the one suffering?

Once the medicine was ready, Liu An brought in the bowl. Xiao Huaijin was woken and leaned against his father's shoulder, frowning at the bowl of dark medicine.

"Father, it's bitter."

"You have to drink it even if it's bitter."

Xiao Lin took the bowl, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and brought it to his lips, his tone firm.

Xiao Huaijin took a sip, and his whole face scrunched into a little bitter melon. At the second spoonful, he turned his head away and refused to open his mouth no matter what. Xiao Lin set the spoon back in the bowl.

"You're already seven. Must I still coax you into taking medicine?"

Xiao Huaijin leaned against his chest. The fever already made him miserable, and now that he had been scolded, his eyes brimmed with aggrieved tears. Helpless, Xiao Lin softened his voice.

"Be good and listen. The medicine will help you recover faster. You won't feel so ill when you wake tomorrow."

Xiao Huaijin obediently opened his mouth. Xiao Lin fed him spoonful after spoonful, and he swallowed each one. He choked a little on the last mouthful, so Xiao Lin wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and set the empty bowl on the low cabinet beside the bed.

"There. Go to sleep."

Xiao Huaijin lay down, his eyelids heavy as lead. Candlelight cast a dim yellow pool beside the bed. His hand slipped out from under the quilt and felt around until it found his father's cuff, which he clutched.

"Father, will you stay here with me?"

"Yes. No more talking. Go to sleep."

Reassured, the little fellow closed his eyes, his head feeling heavy and muddled.

Half an hour later, Xiao Huaijin began to sweat. The director's prescription contained ingredients that induced sweating, and the collar of his sleeping robe was soon soaked through. He tossed and turned beneath the quilt, hot and miserable. Xiao Lin sat beside the bed, wiping away his sweat with a dry cloth and stopping him whenever he tried to kick off the quilt.

Seeing how badly the child was suffering, Xiao Lin found a clean sleeping robe and lifted him out from under the quilt to change him. He had never changed a child's clothes before, and his movements were awkward. When he pulled the neckline over Xiao Huaijin's head, it caught on his ears. He carefully stretched it wider to let the boy's whole little head through.

Half asleep, Xiao Huaijin cooperated by raising his arms and slipping them into the sleeves, his head lolling into the hollow of his father's shoulder. His hot breath fell against Xiao Lin's collarbone, its heat making his heart ache.

Once he had changed him, Xiao Lin settled him back down. Xiao Huaijin rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, then suddenly murmured a muffled "Nanny." Xiao Lin's fingers paused.

It had been a long time since Xiao Huaijin had dreamed of that person. The child probably thought he was still lying on the bed in the Eastern Palace, and that the person sitting beside him was his wet nurse. Xiao Lin rested a hand on Xiao Huaijin's back and patted him gently without correcting him.

The night deepened. The director came in every half hour to check his pulse. Liu An came in to urge His Majesty to rest for a while, but Xiao Lin waved him off, saying there was no need. He sat beside the bed, his back against the bedpost and one hand resting on Xiao Huaijin's quilt, reaching over every so often to feel his forehead. Liu An kept watch in the corridor, occasionally peering through the gap in the doors. The hall was quiet, broken only by the occasional soft crackle of a candle flame and Xiao Huaijin's intermittent sleep-mumbling.

Xiao Lin felt no sleepiness at all. Many scenes flashed through his mind over and over. In their previous life, Xiao Huaijin had once had a fever too. It had come and gone for several days, leaving him dazed and calling for his father in his dreams. Xiao Lin had actually gone that day. He had sat beside the bed in the Eastern Palace for an entire night. Xiao Huaijin had been too delirious with fever to wake, so he had simply sat there watching him. Near dawn, Xiao Huaijin had stirred, as though about to wake. Xiao Lin had stood, pulled the hem of his robe away from the bedside, and hurried out, nearly knocking into the things at the edge of the table.

Thinking back now, perhaps he had already cared deeply about this child long, long ago.

Fortunately, in this life, he could stay by his side openly.

Xiao Lin leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the crown of the child's head. He was not good at expressing love. Only in the stillness of the deep night did he dare reveal his care so plainly.

The little fellow who had been so lively just yesterday now lay here, listless with illness. It truly... made his heart burn with worry.

During the fifth watch, Xiao Huaijin's fever finally subsided a little. His forehead was still warm, but no longer frighteningly hot as it had been in the middle of the night. He opened his eyes and saw his father still sitting beside the bed. Several candles in the hall had already burned out. Beyond the window, the sky was beginning to brighten, and footsteps sounded in the corridor as the night-duty eunuchs changed shifts.

"Father, haven't you slept yet?"

"I have."

"You're lying." Xiao Huaijin raised a hand from beneath the quilt and pointed to the corner of his eye. "It's dark here. You haven't been good about going to bed again."

Xiao Lin tucked that hand back under the quilt. Xiao Huaijin did not expose his lie any further. He merely shifted toward the edge of the bed, making room on the larger half, then patted the empty space to tell his father to lie down and sleep.

Xiao Lin looked at his little face, still flushed from the fever, then took off his outer robe and hung it to one side. He lay down on the empty half of the bed and unceremoniously ruffled the boy's hair.

In the morning, the physician came in to take Xiao Huaijin's pulse again.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. The wind-cold has left as quickly as it came. Your constitution is strong. Two more days of medicine, and you will be well."

Leaning against his pillow, Xiao Huaijin tipped his head back.

"Can I skip the medicine?"

Before the director could answer, Xiao Lin spoke, as though he had not been the impossibly gentle man of the night before.

"You must take your medicine. Liu An, have ginger soup prepared for the crown prince every day until he recovers."

Holding his fly whisk, Liu An acknowledged the order and turned to leave.

Xiao Huaijin pulled the quilt up over his entire face.

Father is a bully.