The chill of late autumn stole in with a night of unrelenting rain. Fine, dense threads of rain pattered against the window lattice, bringing a damp cold that seeped into the marrow.
Chu Moqi was wrenched awake by sheer pain.
He did not wake with a start. Agony suddenly exploded deep in his spine, like countless steel needles churning through his marrow at once, tearing him bodily from the murk of sleep!
His eyes flew open to a blur of dark shadows. Only the devastating pain in his lower spine remained clear, consuming every one of his senses.
It was not the dull ache of flesh, but sharp and dull pain interwoven, penetrating the marrow and tugging at the nerves. It was the inevitable backlash of old injuries in cold, damp weather, the bones once broken beneath a horse's hooves silently screaming their protest.
Every vertebra seemed to shift out of place and grind against the next, giving off teeth-setting creaks only he could hear. Cold sweat instantly broke out all over him. Even his fingers curled, clawing desperately into the bedding beneath him.
He wanted to move, to change position and ease this inhuman torment, but his body seemed nailed to the bed. The agony in his back left him afraid to shift even a fraction, as though the slightest movement would make his already fragile spine fall apart altogether.
Worse still, as if answering the agony in his spine, the two limp, powerless legs below his waist-legs that had long lost all sensation-began to spasm wildly beyond his control!
These were no ordinary cramps. His muscles convulsed violently and chaotically, as though shocked by electricity, tightening, abruptly relaxing, then convulsing even harder! His legs seemed to have minds of their own, kicking forcefully and haphazardly across the bed, striking the boards with dull thuds. His ankles twisted at unnatural angles. Every spasm pulled at the muscles above his waist and his fragile spine, piling on waves of agony that nearly made him faint.
"Argh...!" Unable to bear it any longer, he let out a short, agonized cry. His hands instinctively reached, futilely, toward his two "rebellious" legs. He grabbed and pressed down hard, trying to stop their frantic convulsions through sheer force, but beneath his fingers were only muscles tight as iron, cold and rigid, and a despair-inducing trembling utterly beyond his control.
It hurt... his legs hurt so much! Tendons and channels were being violently stretched, muscles spasming excessively, bringing a deep, swollen ache and tearing pain that reached into his marrow! Mingling with the agony in his spine, it threatened to rip him apart!
Sweat instantly soaked his underclothes and hair. Veins bulged across his forehead, his face was white as paper, and he had bitten his lips bloody from the extreme pain and strain.
Yan Qin and Yan Huai knew well that their young master would inevitably suffer an attack in weather like this and had already been on the alert. Almost at the first unusual sound, both rushed in as quickly as they could.
The sight made their hearts clench. Their young master was drenched in sweat, his face ashen, his gaze unfocused with agony. His hands gripped his spasming legs tightly, and his body trembled slightly from the pain and loss of control.
"Young master!" Yan Qin called softly. He immediately stepped forward and knelt on one knee beside the bed, firmly holding down one of Chu Moqi's wildly kicking legs with one hand while the other deftly began massaging several acupoints, trying to ease the tension in his muscles. His movements were steady and strong as he tried to clear the blocked flow of qi and blood.
Yan Huai hurried forward too, supporting Chu Moqi's upper body to keep his struggles from aggravating his spinal injury. At the same time, he quickly wrung out a hot towel and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, soothing him quietly. "Young master, relax... breathe slowly... it's all right. It'll be over soon..."
But the weather and the severity of his old injuries made this attack particularly savage. Acupoint massage and the channeling of internal energy did little good. Rather than easing, the spasms in his legs grew even more violent under the external stimulation. Almost senseless with pain, Chu Moqi struggled harder still, unable to control his body.
Amid that extreme suffering and loss of control, a warm, wet sensation once again spread uncontrollably beneath him...
Again...
At his most agonized, most wretched, most helpless moment, this body had betrayed him again.
Yan Qin's massaging hands paused briefly, pain and helplessness flashing through his eyes. He was all too familiar with this. He immediately adjusted his movements, continuing the massage while soothing him in an even steadier voice. "Young master, it's all right. Relax. Leave it to us."
But to Chu Moqi, this was snow piled atop frost. Losing control of his bodily functions on top of such extreme physical suffering brought devastating shame and despair. He felt like an utter cripple, a monster incapable of controlling even his most basic bodily functions.
And at that moment, when shame and suffering overwhelmed him most, his unfocused gaze happened to stray toward the half-closed door.
The gap was narrow, admitting the dim light outside.
In that narrow strip of light, he saw a pair of timid, almond-shaped eyes filled with alarm and concern.
It was Cui Wan.
She had evidently heard the commotion and seen Yan Qin and Yan Huai rush in, and knew he was having another attack. Remembering his last warning, she dared not enter. She could only hide outside and peek anxiously through the slender crack in the door.
In truth, the gap was very narrow, and Yan Qin's and Yan Huai's tall figures blocked most of it. She could not make out what was happening inside at all, much less see those most humiliating details.
But in Chu Moqi's perception, submerged in suffering and shame, that glance landed like a club to the head!
She had seen!
She had seen again!
She had seen this disgusting state of his, neither human nor ghost, convulsing in agony, incontinent and out of control!
All his pain, all his humiliation and rage, all his self-loathing converged into savage fury and an almost destructive impulse. He jerked his head up, his bloodshot eyes fixing on the eyes beyond the door. Gathering every last scrap of strength, he gave a hoarse, vicious growl toward the doorway:
"Stay away... unless you want to die!!!"
His voice twisted with pain and anger, filled with undisguised murderous intent and rejection.
Outside, Cui Wan trembled all over at the sudden roar, fiercer than any he had directed at her before. Her little face instantly turned deathly pale. Tears and bewildered fear flooded the almond-shaped eyes that had held only concern. She did not understand. She was only worried about him, only stealing a glance... why had he become so fierce and frightening again?
She dared not linger another moment. Covering her mouth, she turned and stumbled away.
"Young master! Why did you lose your temper like that?!" Yan Huai had also been startled by Chu Moqi's sudden rage and could not help complaining softly. "You nearly scared me to death too... madam was only worried..."
"Quiet..." Yan Qin immediately cut him off sharply, giving him a stern look. This was no time for that. Their young master was on the brink of collapse, emotionally and physically. Any further provocation could make things worse.
Knowing he had misspoken, Yan Huai quickly fell silent and joined Yan Qin in concentrating on their work.
That roar seemed to have exhausted Chu Moqi's last shred of strength. He fell limply back onto the bed, left with nothing but heavy breaths that quavered with pain. He closed his eyes, yet those frightened, tear-filled eyes remained before him.
Humiliation... shame and anger... self-loathing... like an icy tide, they submerged him completely.
He felt utterly ridiculous, and utterly disgusting.
Cui Wan must think so too, mustn't she? Seeing him like this, she must find him terrifying and disgusting, an utter monster.
Yan Qin said no more. He quickly retrieved a jade bottle from the room and poured out a brown pill with a sharp, bitter scent-a Meridian-Soothing Pill, which could temporarily numb the nerves and ease severe pain. He carefully fed it to Chu Moqi. Meanwhile, Yan Huai fetched a specially prepared medicinal oil that promoted circulation, dispersed blood stasis, and eased spasms. He warmed it between his palms, then worked in concert with Yan Qin's massage, carefully rubbing Chu Moqi's still-rigid, spasming legs over and over.
As the medicine gradually took effect, together with the unceasing massage, the devastating agony and frantic spasms finally began to recede, little by little, with excruciating slowness.
Chu Moqi's taut body gradually relaxed, leaving only endless exhaustion and an icy numbness that sank into his marrow. He let Yan Qin and Yan Huai move him, wash him, change his clothes...
Good... let it be this way.
Cui Wan... the farther she stayed from him, the better...
Someone like him should never have hoped for even a little warmth or closeness. He should simply rot away alone...
Cui Wan felt unsettled all day.
Ever since his pain-filled, vicious warning that morning-"Stay away unless you want to die"-had frightened her off, her mind had been elsewhere.
She could not quite describe the feeling. Perhaps he truly had frightened her; the memory of his bloodshot eyes and hoarse, distorted growl made her heart tremble. But perhaps... more than that, there was another heavy feeling lodged in her chest.
He was in pain. His legs always seemed to hurt. And his legs... hadn't they already lost the ability to move? Yet every time he had an attack, they kicked and spasmed so terribly. Just watching looked so painful, so frightening...
Cui Wan shook her head hard, trying to cast out those images that frightened and distressed her. She could not keep thinking about it. If she did, she would lie awake until dawn again tonight.
She forced herself to lie down and close her eyes, counting the patter of rain outside the window.
One, two, three...
She did not know how high she had counted before her awareness began to blur.
Just then-
Bang!
A heavy crash, the sound of something weighty hitting the floor, abruptly tore through the silence of the night and slammed into Cui Wan's half-asleep mind.
She almost sprang upright in bed, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
What happened?!
The sound had come from the side room... his room!
Had... had he fallen again?
The instant that thought arose, Cui Wan leaped barefoot from bed almost without thinking. She snatched up an outer robe and threw it on, slipped into her embroidered shoes, gathered her skirts, and rushed toward the side room. Her heart clenched tightly, her mind filled with the sight of him lying in the grass on their wedding day.
She reached the door, her fingers already touching its cold panels, when the memory of his bloodshot, disgust-filled eyes that morning and that icy "stay away" drenched her like a basin of cold water.
She dared not go in.
He had said that no matter what she heard, she must not enter.
Stay away unless you want to die...
But... it was too quiet.
There was not a sound inside. If he had fallen, how could there be no sound? No muffled groan of pain, no attempt to get up, nothing. Only deathly silence.
That unnatural silence frightened her more than any noise. At last, the worry lodged in her chest outweighed her fear.
With trembling hands, she gently pushed the door open a crack.
An overpowering, pungent reek of liquor immediately struck her, making her frown.
By the dim light of the candle still burning inside, she saw Chu Moqi lying on the cold floor tiles in front of his wheelchair, face down and motionless. His cheeks, his neck, even the exposed skin of his wrists were abnormally flushed.
How could this have happened?!
Cui Wan's mind buzzed. Warnings, fear-she cast them all beyond the ninth heaven. She shoved the door open and stumbled toward him.
"A-Qi!" Her voice distorted with panic. She knelt beside him and tried to help him up, but her hands were shaking terribly.
Beneath her hands, his skin burned and his body was limp and powerless. She could not lift him at all, managing only to turn him onto his side. His forehead had struck the tiles, leaving a large, conspicuous blue swelling. Against his pale skin and drunken flush, it looked particularly alarming.
His eyes remained tightly closed, his breathing heavy and hot. He showed no response to anything around him.
"Yan Qin! Yan Huai! Someone, hurry!" Cui Wan called outside, her voice thick with tears that were on the verge of falling.
Already alert, Yan Qin and Yan Huai rushed in immediately. Both drew sharp breaths at the sight on the floor.
"Young master!" Yan Qin hurried forward to check Chu Moqi's condition, while Yan Huai and Cui Wan tried to help him up.
"Where did the young master get this liquor?!" Yan Qin demanded of Yan Huai as he checked Chu Moqi's pulse and breathing, his tone sterner than ever before. After such a tormenting attack that morning, his body was at its weakest. How could he touch alcohol? Especially liquor that smelled so potent!
Yan Huai panicked too. "I-I don't know! There wasn't any liquor this strong in his room before! Everything was still fine this morning!"
Together, the two carefully carried Chu Moqi, limp and reeking strongly of alcohol, back to bed. Cui Wan followed closely beside them, watching the swelling on his forehead and his flushed face, her chest tightening with wave after wave of distress and panic.
Yan Qin quickly examined the wine pot on the table. It was the fiery Bladeburn liquor common in the army, extraordinarily strong. Chu Moqi's tolerance was not particularly poor, but this liquor was too fierce. His attack that morning had also exhausted him physically and mentally, leaving his body weak, yet he had quietly drunk nearly three pots alone. Now he was so drunk that he lay unconscious, unresponsive no matter how they called him.
"Young master! Young master!" Yan Huai tried calling softly and patting his face. Chu Moqi merely frowned unconsciously and mumbled something indistinct, then fell silent again.
"What should we do? Will he be all right?" Cui Wan's voice trembled with tears, her small hands unconsciously clutching the corners of her clothes.
Yan Qin carefully examined Chu Moqi's pupils and breathing. Apart from drunkenness and a slight fever, he found no other life-threatening injury for the moment. Though the swelling on his forehead was severe, the blow should not be serious.
He relaxed slightly and told Yan Huai, "Go to the kitchen. Have them make sobering soup immediately, a strong batch. Bring a basin of warm water too."
Yan Huai answered and dashed off.
Steadying herself a little, Cui Wan looked at the unconscious Chu Moqi on the bed and could not help asking quietly, "Has he... drunk like this before?"
Yan Qin silently shook his head, his brows tightly furrowed. He knew that although his young master occasionally drowned his sorrows in drink after his drastic change in temperament, he had never lost control like this, much less abused his body so after an attack.
But ever since... ever since Cui Wan had witnessed his most humiliating moment that morning, Chu Moqi had grown increasingly gloomy and silent, behaving most strangely. Now this... he feared...
Yan Qin did not say it aloud. Only the worry in his eyes deepened.
Soon, the sobering soup and warm water arrived. Supporting Chu Moqi, Yan Qin fed him the warm medicinal soup a little at a time. He was so drunk that swallowing was difficult, and more than half of what went into his mouth spilled out again. With great patience, Yan Qin wiped it away and fed him more.
Watching anxiously from the side, Cui Wan suddenly remembered something and ran out. When she returned, she held two boiled eggs. She carefully peeled them, wrapped them in a soft cloth, and gently rolled them over the swelling on Chu Moqi's forehead as a warm compress.
Her movements were light and gentle, fearful of hurting him. Looking at the red, swollen mark, she felt a bitter ache in her heart.
After they finished feeding him the sobering soup and wiped his face and hands with warm water, Chu Moqi's complexion seemed a little better. But he remained unconscious, his every breath reeking of liquor.
It was already late into the night.
Yan Qin looked at Cui Wan, whose face was weary though she still forced herself to stay alert, and said gently, "Madam, it's late. Please return to your room and rest. Yan Huai and I will watch over the young master."
But Cui Wan shook her head. Looking at Chu Moqi sleeping on the bed, stripped of all his ferocity and viciousness, with only fragility and exhaustion remaining, she felt an inexplicable surge of courage.
"I..." She bit her lip. Her voice was quiet but clear. "I want to stay here and watch over him. May I?"
Yan Qin and Yan Huai both froze, looking at her in surprise.
Last time... the young master had nearly strangled madam to death... That terrifying scene remained fresh in their memories. How did she still dare to stay?
Yan Huai could not help gently advising her, "Madam, the young master is so drunk that we don't know when he'll wake, or what... what he might do when he does. I'm afraid you won't be safe here, and you won't rest well either."
But Cui Wan raised her eyes. Though her gaze was still somewhat timid, it held a stubbornness. "He... he promised me he wouldn't do that again."
Yan Qin and Yan Huai exchanged a look, each seeing complicated emotions in the other's eyes. At last, Yan Qin sighed. "In that case... thank you for taking care of him, madam. Yan Huai and I will take turns keeping watch in the outer room. If you need anything, or if anything seems unusual with the young master, call us at once."
Cui Wan nodded emphatically.
The two withdrew and gently closed the door, leaving the inner room to Cui Wan and the sleeping Chu Moqi.
Candlelight flickered over Chu Moqi's sleeping face. Without the gloom and viciousness of his waking hours, or the distorted anguish of his attacks, he lay with his brows faintly knitted and his thin lips pressed together. The swelling on his forehead looked a little ridiculous in the dim yellow light, yet inexplicably made one's heart ache.
Cui Wan brought over a low stool and sat beside the bed, resting her chin in her hands as she watched him.
In truth, she was still a little afraid. Afraid he would suddenly wake and become that fierce Chu Moqi again, the one who would seize her throat and shout at her to get out.
But... seeing him like this, hopelessly drunk, his forehead swollen from his fall, lying here utterly defenseless, she felt other emotions surging beneath that fear.
He was so pitiful.
Why had he drunk like this? How could his body bear so much liquor? He had been in such terrible pain only that morning...
With such a big lump on his forehead, he looked... less fierce. A little... silly, even.
Cui Wan sighed softly, tracing the shape of his prominent, so often tightly furrowed brow with a fingertip in the air.
Why was he always so fierce? So frightening...
As her thoughts wandered, sleepiness swept over her again. After a whole day of worry and fear, followed by half a night of commotion, Cui Wan truly could not hold on any longer. Her little head nodded, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
At last, she slumped sideways onto the edge of the bed and fell fast asleep.