Chapter 69: His Instincts Followed Her Traces…

He had thought about not returning. He felt too much like a burden now. Loving him would become an increasingly bland and troublesome affair. Originally, his inability to speak was already vexing enough; now, if she wanted to say anything to him, it would require immense effort. Yet, he could not resign himself to it.

He refused to die while still being loved by her. He wanted to offer her any possible value he could provide, to possess enough capital to be loved by her forever. He had to return, to protect her, to kill for her, to give her the safety and warmth she needed.

Zhao Rongzhang watched as he stood still before her, his gaze unfocused, one hand stained with foul-smelling blood reaching toward her face. Her heart was a tumult of mixed emotions.

His eyelashes fluttered twice, his breathing suddenly grew heavy, and his entire body leaned toward her. Startled, Zhao Rongzhang’s emotions vanished instantly. She quickly caught him, dragging and trying to lift him up.

“Guan Xuan!”

That half of an ugly head fell off, rolling several steps away with a thud.

The guard urgently knocked on the wooden door of the nearest household. An elderly woman with graying hair tremblingly opened the door.

Faced with the guard’s request for the master to stay the night, the old woman was so nervous she stammered, until Chen Xiaogou behind her tugged at her sleeve and whispered, “Brother…”

Following his gaze, the old woman cautiously looked and was astonished to discover that the young man who had mysteriously disappeared from her home was now covered in blood, leaning limply in the arms of a finely dressed young lady. That young lady was none other than the girl she had seen in his arms on the boat to Yangcheng Lake.

Zhao Rongzhang was also surprised to reunite with the old woman here. The old woman recounted how she had brought Guan Xuan back and, despite the gold and silver Zhao Rongzhang offered, adamantly refused to accept it, instead swiftly tidying up a room for her.

The room was cramped, with only enough space for a single candle.

Zhao Rongzhang wiped Guan Xuan’s hands and face. He leaned close to her, like a cat nuzzling its head against a person’s body for comfort. Against her forehead and cheeks, she could feel his scorching body temperature and unsteady breathing.

Several knuckles on his right hand were still severely swollen, likely from bone injuries. The guard had already gone to fetch a doctor, but given the limited conditions in the village, they would have to wait for the snowstorm to completely subside before rushing back to Suzhou City for treatment. For now, they would make do here for the night.

Zhao Rongzhang removed his blood-soaked outer robe and wrapped him tightly in a quilt. However, the quilt in the old woman’s home was far too thin, the cotton inside knotted and unable to retain warmth. Zhao Rongzhang had no choice but to bring over her own cloak, wrapping both him and herself in it.

In the future, she should take fewer risks like this. Gazing at the faint flicker of the candle flame, Zhao Rongzhang tightened her embrace around him.

Both humans and dogs fell silent, and before she knew it, she too closed her eyes.

She hadn’t slept long when, hazily, she seemed to hear someone sobbing near her ear. Frowning, Zhao Rongzhang tried to discern whether she was dreaming, when a warm, damp sensation spread across her neck—his lips were fervently kissing her. The arm resting on her body also grew increasingly restless.

The cloak and quilt were about to be tossed aside by his movements. Zhao Rongzhang opened her eyes and pressed down on his hand. Regardless of the setting, given his current condition, he shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous.

By the dim candlelight, Zhao Rongzhang looked at his fever-flushed face. His eyes were tightly shut, his expression seeming aggrieved by her rejection. Yet he was obedient, turning his face away from her neck on his own.

The horizon began to brighten with a pale glow, and gradually, the crowing of roosters could be heard. Zhao Rongzhang instructed the guards to leave a chest of gold ingots on the kang, then hitched the carriage and hurried back to Suzhou City. The corpses and traces left from the previous night’s scuffle had already been cleared away overnight, and with the snow covering everything, it was as if nothing had happened. With Li Tong dead, the Independent Battalion was entirely hers now. If Zhao Yu wanted to make any further moves, he would have to weigh the consequences carefully.

The only troubling thing was that Guan Xuan’s condition had worsened compared to the previous night. His body temperature kept rising, he grew increasingly sensitive to the cold, the flush on his cheeks remained, yet his lips had lost their color. Having already gone without medicine for three to five days while the evil toxin lingered, this high fever made it uncertain whether his illness would worsen.

Moreover, he had become extremely clingy toward her, to the point of being somewhat unreasonable, always making it hard for her to leave his side. Even when she sat talking with outsiders, she couldn’t let go of his hand, or he would pull her down.

Originally, upon returning to Suzhou City, her first priority was to bring Li Tong’s head to the training ground, seize the other half of the Military Tallies from Zhao Yu, and then immediately arrange to head north. Timing was crucial, and any delay was unacceptable. But because of him, she postponed this matter for three days. She could only use the excuse of having Ming Luo devise a more intimidating reason and process for Li Tong’s death. Although compared to the outcome, these details weren’t that important.

Old Man Wu examined Guan Xuan’s pulse and performed acupuncture daily, but seeing little improvement, he furrowed his brow.

Zhao Rongzhang couldn’t help but ask, “These past few days, his fever has been constant—no sooner does it subside than it flares up again. He hardly takes any medicine or food. Is he really going to fall critically ill this time?”

Old Man Wu pinched his chin and let out a thoughtful “hmm.”

Zhao Rongzhang had no patience. “Just say it directly. Don’t hesitate.”

“Logically speaking, his eyes, ears, and throat should have fully recovered these past few days,” Old Man Wu said, his gaze fixed on the hand the young man still tightly clutched the Princess’s sleeve with even in his sleep. “With his constitution, a major injury is an opportunity for a major recovery.”

“What do you mean?”

Old Man Wu still couldn’t be certain, speaking slowly, “I suspect, Young Master himself is unwilling to wake up, unwilling to get better.”

“How is that possible! I think you’ve been sitting in your clinic too long and lost your mind. If you can’t cure him, there’s no need to deceive me. Tell me the truth—I won’t have you killed.” Zhao Rongzhang didn’t believe it at all. Who would be unwilling to get better?

Especially since, to prove he still had value even without eyes or ears, he often ended up covered in wounds.

But she did seem to have heard him whimpering in his sleep a few times. If his throat hadn’t healed, he wouldn’t be able to make such sounds, right?

Old Man Wu quickly waved his hands. “No, no. If he were conscious, of course he wouldn’t say he doesn’t want to get better! But right now, his mind is muddled, and his body is acting purely on instinct. In his instinct’s view, what he wants more than recovering is what he currently has.”

What he currently has?

Zhao Rongzhang also stared at the hand that had been clinging to her sleeve. Considering his unusual dependence on her these past few days, along with her own extraordinary tolerance toward him, what else was there to misunderstand?

Her temper flared instantly. This foolish Little Mute—how utterly senseless!

She immediately tried to pry his fingers loose, but they wouldn’t budge. She ordered someone to bring scissors, raised her arm, and with a few sharp snips, cut away the fabric. She stood up to leave, but as soon as she straightened her knees, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back onto the bed with a gentle tug. The person on the bed frowned, stubbornly tucking her into his embrace.

This scenario had played out countless times before. And each time, out of pity, she had indulged him.

But today, outsiders were still present. Suppressing her anger, Zhao Rongzhang ordered the attendants and Old Man Wu to leave.

Normally, if she held him close or kissed him at a moment like this, he would loosen his grip and let her go. But Zhao Rongzhang had no intention of indulging him this time. As soon as the door closed, she struggled fiercely against him, kicking and hitting when she couldn’t break free. After a few attempts, he seemed to understand and released her. Zhao Rongzhang retreated to a table half a zhang away, planted her hands on her hips, and drank a cup of half-cold leftover tea.

She glanced at him, noticing his furrowed brow and the redness at the corners of his eyes.

Though it pained her, she steeled herself and shouted at him, “If you don’t get better, I won’t like you anymore!”

She repeated it twice, but he showed no reaction. Even if he truly couldn’t hear, Zhao Rongzhang was determined to make him understand. She set down the teacup, grabbed his collar, and roared the words a third time directly into his ear.

Still no response. Instead, sensing the warmth of her hand, he took it gently and pressed his cheek against it.

Zhao Rongzhang stared for a moment, then hardened her heart and slapped him hard across the face. In all these years, no matter the circumstances, she had never struck him like this. The young man’s breathing grew ragged, and he coughed softly.

Her palm tingled. Watching the faint red mark rise on his cheek, Zhao Rongzhang’s emotions shifted strangely. Suddenly, she changed her demand: “Say you like me.”

She bit his ear, almost drawing blood, but he still couldn’t hear. A choked, whimpering sound escaped his throat as he nuzzled against her neck, kissing it tenderly.

None of it worked. His instincts interpreted her actions as flirtation.

Zhao Rongzhang kissed his lips, unable to hold back from deepening the kiss. He sank further into it, his breathy sounds growing more pronounced as he shifted from passive to active, pressing down on her neck.

Perhaps because the weather had turned colder, Zhao Rongzhang’s heat toxin had been relatively stable lately. Yet, in this moment, she couldn’t help but want to lose herself with him, casting aside all worries.

Clothing fell away piece by piece, hairpins and strands of hair scattering across the bed amidst the rocking and collision. In the midst of overwhelming satisfaction, Zhao Rongzhang regained a sliver of clarity. Pressing against his chest, she propped herself up and pulled away. Unsatisfied, he clung to her arm, kissing the inside of her wrist, desperate to continue. Zhao Rongzhang grasped his damp, pink-lotus-like member, blocking its exit, and demanded coldly, “Say you like me.”

When he still didn’t respond, she intensified her torment, tugging at his ear and repeating in a halting rhythm, “Say… you like me.”

Until he gave the right response.