Chapter 185: He Is Dying

Late into the night, Lan Wu finally fell asleep.

In her dazed state, she saw Chu Mingheng once more.

She had entered the dream again.

At the foot of the palace steps stood a tall young man, reporting something to the figure seated above.

Lan Wu recognized the man’s face and froze for a moment.

She knew this person—or rather, she remembered this face.

Chu Jiyuan.

During her previous dream entries, she had occasionally seen Chu Mingheng summon this royal clansman chosen as the heir to the throne. But compared to the last time she had seen him, Chu Jiyuan had clearly grown several years older.

How many years had passed since then…

Lan Wu moved closer to Chu Mingheng’s side and saw him still looking down, reviewing memorials. Only after listening to Chu Jiyuan’s report did he give a slight response.

“Well done.” These brief words made Chu Jiyuan below heave a quiet sigh of relief.

Just then, Chu Mingheng coughed twice.

Chu Jiyuan looked up slightly, his voice tinged with concern. “Your Majesty’s health still shows no improvement? It must be that the Imperial Medical Academy has been negligent. I will send someone to investigate—”

Before he could finish, Chu Mingheng interrupted him. “No need.”

“I know my own body well. The time is almost here…”

As he spoke these words, Chu Mingheng even wore a faint smile, as if satisfied, like someone who had long awaited something finally seeing it come to fruition, his entire being brimming with anticipation.

This anticipation might be incomprehensible to others, but Chu Jiyuan, who had been raised by the emperor’s side for decades as the crown prince, understood it all too well.

Long ago, this lofty emperor had lost the will to live.

Just as he had said, the time was almost here—and this “time” was something he had eagerly awaited.

How could anyone look forward to death?

Especially when that person was the most revered figure in the world. Since ancient times, had emperors not always wished to live longer and rule longer?

But as the years passed, Chu Jiyuan occasionally saw the emperor sitting alone by the lake, quietly gazing at the water, as if missing someone. Gradually, he came to understand that this enduring longing had tormented the emperor.

He yearned for closure.

Lan Wu stood to the side, looking down at Chu Mingheng’s graying hair. Unable to control herself, her eyes welled up with tears that fell one by one, her body trembling with sobs.

She naturally understood the meaning behind Chu Mingheng’s words, and it was precisely because she understood that she felt an unprecedented sorrow.

To be separated by life and death—easier said than done. For both of them, it was no small torment.

Chu Mingheng had already experienced her death once. Now, was she to watch him die as well?

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty…” Lan Wu wiped her tears, her voice hoarse as she called out to him. She crouched beside him, slightly tilting her head to look into his eyes.

At that moment, Chu Mingheng was still coughing, but unlike before, it was no longer light. He covered his lips, and after a moment, traces of blood slowly seeped through his fingers.

“Your Majesty…?” Lan Wu forgot to react, staring blankly at him as he coughed up blood, yet wore an expression of serene relief.

A flash of white light swept before her eyes, and everything vanished.

When she opened her eyes, sunlight from outside the window had already streamed in, and the world before her became clear. Yet her face felt unusually cold.

Lan Wu reached out and gently touched her cheeks, only to feel the dampness of tears that had flowed down her face, soaking into the pillow and bedding.

Chu Mingheng was dying.

He shouldn’t have been so soon… so young…

Lan Wu turned over, closed her eyes, and couldn’t help but cry again.

As Lian Qiao had said, today was indeed a fine day.

In the afternoon, Yizhen came to call Lan Wu to go up to the mountaintop to bask in the sun.

“You were sick a few days ago, are you all better now?” Yizhen looked at Lan Wu’s complexion and felt she still didn’t look too well, feeling somewhat worried.

Lan Wu nodded: “I’m much better now, just still have a bit of a headache.”

“Look at this fine weather today, I’ll take you up the mountain to see the flowers.”

Mentioning flowers, Lan Wu remembered the peach blossoms they had spoken of before.

“Have all the peach blossoms on the mountain bloomed?”

Yizhen pondered for a moment, then shook her head: “I don’t know, but why stay cooped up on such a fine day? Let’s go out and get some sun.”

Lan Wu wasn’t really keen on going, but staying alone in the hall made it easier for her to think about the things in her dreams, which made her sad just thinking about them.

“Alright, let’s go.” She agreed.

The carriage made its way up the higher mountain path. Inside the carriage, Yizhen looked at the things Lan Wu had brought along and leaned over curiously, asking, “Is this an embroidered handkerchief?”

The color was dark blue. With just one glance, Yizhen guessed who this handkerchief was embroidered for.

She smiled and nudged Lan Wu’s shoulder, whispering, “It’s for my imperial brother, isn’t it? Well, it’s been over three months since you parted, so it’s only right to express some longing.”

“Let me see what you’ve embroidered.”

With that, Yizhen carefully examined the pattern that was already clearly embroidered on the handkerchief.

“Oh, this is… this is…” She stared intently for a long while but couldn’t recognize it. Meeting Lan Wu’s expectant gaze, she took the handkerchief over, spread it out for a closer look, turned it over and back, and finally swallowed before asking, “Is this embroidered grass?”

After saying this, Lan Wu blinked, slightly opening her mouth as if to say something.

But she stopped, seeming to think about how to explain.

“Ah, how could it be grass? It must be something else, haha. Look at how vivid it is—even if it’s grass, it should be precious grass—orchid grass!”

“Yes, this is orchid grass, isn’t it? I can see it now!”

“It’s embroidered so beautifully—”

Yizhen spoke in a continuous stream, making Lan Wu’s ears itch and her face uncontrollably flush.

She had indeed embroidered orchid grass, but she still had a few small flowers left to embroider, thinking she could finish them this afternoon.

“It’s embroidered orchid grass… not finished yet.” She said softly.

“That’s fine. Imperial brother is expected to arrive in the next couple of days, but you don’t need to rush. Even if it’s not finished, he’ll surely like it when he sees it.”

Lan Wu told her that she had originally planned to give a portrait, but the painting didn’t look like Chu Mingheng and wasn’t very good, so she changed to embroidering a handkerchief instead.

“Actually, I think he’d be satisfied even if you gave him nothing.” Yizhen examined Lan Wu’s face. “Seeing you well will put his mind at ease.”

Hearing these words, Lan Wu’s expression suddenly relaxed, and she slowly smiled.

Yes, as long as she was well, Chu Mingheng would be satisfied.

After all, Chu Mingheng was most worried about her.

However, on the very night after these words were spoken, Lan Wu developed a high fever.

When a palace maid entered the hall to close the windows, she heard Lan Wu’s breathing was slightly heavy, so she took a look and saw her flushed face. Knowing something was wrong, she hurried out to call for help.