Thousand Miles of Bright Moonlight - Chapter 155
In the first half of the night, Yaoying burned with fever as if engulfed in flames, unable even to sip water, let alone swallow that bowl of plain soup and flatbread.
She felt herself being gently propped up, the bowl being brought to her lips, the faint sweetness of the broth wafting to her nose, but she only felt nauseous. She raised a trembling arm and pushed the bowl away.
The soup splashed, and the bowl was immediately withdrawn.
The bed was warm, as though a brazier of bright charcoal had been hidden beneath the covers. Yaoying was so hot she couldn’t bear it, restlessly pushing off the heavy quilts pressing on her.
No sooner had she pushed them aside than the covers were drawn back over her. She pushed them off again, and in no time, the quilt was gently restored to its place. Sick and wilful, she made a dissatisfied little sound, her legs kicking at the covers, pushing them down again and again.
Like a cat throwing a tantrum.
The figure at the bedside paused for a brief moment.
With the heat dispersing, Yaoying felt a little more comfortable. She sprawled out her limbs, turned over, and curled up, resting her head on her arm. Her long, dark hair spread across her shoulders, her slender bare feet peeking out, the arches slightly tense. She looked so pitifully delicate, and her fragile figure was a far cry from her earlier defiant antics.
Moments later, the quilt was once again tucked over her.
A hand, slender with defined knuckles, gently pressed down the corners of the bedding.
Yaoying suddenly opened her eyes and looked up, her long lashes wet and glistening.
The gesture felt so familiar. So comforting.
…
When she was little, Yaoying had to take medicine every day and spent many sleepless nights. Especially in the year when she first started learning to walk, her legs ached unbearably; no matter how she shifted, she couldn’t find a position that didn’t hurt.
She didn’t want to cry from the pain, but the tears still fell, soaking her pillow.
Li Zhongqian, hearing something, came into the inner chamber with a lamp in hand. He shone the light onto her face: “Xiao Qi?”
Yaoying knew her elder brother’s temper; he was impatient, so she held her breath at once, lying still and pretending to sleep.
Li Zhongqian bent over, pulled up the quilt that had slipped down to her shoulders, gently pressed it down twice, checked the foot of the bed, then stood there for a while before leaving.
Her legs still hurt terribly, but her heart felt steadier. She turned over and fell asleep again.
…
Years had passed since then. Yaoying had long forgotten the pain that once kept her awake night after night. All she remembered was the gentleness of her brother’s clumsy hands tucking in the blanket.
The lamplight was dim and hazy.
Yaoying fixed her gaze on that slender hand by her bedside, her eyes slowly trailing upward, until they landed on a grotesque Yaksha mask.
She blinked, dazed, muddled, thinking: What a frightening dream.
Her eyes continued upward until they met a pair of turquoise eyes gazing quietly down at her, their expression calm and detached.
Yaoying’s eyes grew hot.
All the grievances, fear, helplessness, and loneliness she had buried deep in her heart surged forth like roiling river tides, welling up uncontrollably.
“Elder Brother…”
As the words left her lips, her nose tingled, her eyes brimmed with tears. She seized the hand that had been about to withdraw.
“Elder Brother, I feel awful.”
Since she knew it was only a dream, she no longer had to hide. She could let herself be vulnerable, could act spoiled, could voice her misery.
Her burning hot hand clutched his cool one, an electric jolt seeming to pass between them.
The hand in her grasp twitched slightly.
Yaoying held on tighter, just like when she was a child, holding tight to the hands that had pulled her up over and over again, teaching her to walk step by step. She nestled closer, rubbing her small face against the back of that hand, wordlessly seeking comfort and acting spoiled.
The hand she clutched stopped resisting, letting her press her fevered cheek against it. The texture of the fabric was cool, and it felt soothing.
“Elder Brother…” Yaoying tilted her flushed face up, murmuring softly, “Can you not wear the mask? The ghost face is a little scary.”
The man looked down at her.
Her face was burning red, her eyes slightly glazed, glimmering with spring-like allure. She stared straight at him, and being completely convinced she was seeing her brother, she behaved utterly unashamed, spoiled, petulant, and unreasonable.
“Elder Brother.”
She urged him, her voice as soft as breath, weak and frail, her brows tightly furrowed as if suppressing unbearable discomfort.
The man remained silent for a moment, then slowly removed the mask.
Beneath the yaksha face was a face covered in scars.
He held the mask, intending to put it back on.
Yaoying pressed her hand to his arm, her brows arching slightly, and gave him a sweet, radiant smile. Her eyes and expression were brimming with gentle delight, as if she hadn’t noticed the scars on his face at all.
“That’s much better.”
Yaoying whispered softly. At last, she felt safe. Hugging his arm, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again.
The man froze for a moment.
By the second half of the night, Yaoying began to shiver.
Cold crept into her bones, spreading through her limbs. Her hands and feet were icy, and she curled tightly into herself.
The hand she had been clutching slipped from her grasp.
A weight pressed on her shoulders as someone added another layer of bedding, tucking her in gently, smoothing the edges just as before.
She had suspected Sultan Gu’s identity, and over these past days, she had deliberately tested him more than once.
He must have noticed, but even so, he had treated her no differently. Tumoroga had sent him to protect her, and so he fulfilled that task diligently.
Yaoying slowly exhaled the breath lodged in her chest.
Whatever secrets Tumoroga, Sultan Gu, and brother Ashina Bisha concealed, whatever Sultan Gu’s true identity was, that was their business. She ought not to probe into it.
If others treated her with sincerity, she should return that sincerity in kind.