Thousand Miles of Bright Moonlight - Chapter 156.1

Morning light filled the room in shimmering ripples, and the charcoal stove crackled softly.

Sultan Gu had not yet woken.

Beside the bed lay the Yaksha mask he usually wore.

Yaoying gently lifted the quilt and knelt before Sultan Gu, leaning closer to look at his face.

The scars criss-crossed like traces left by fire.

Yaoying held her breath nervously, inching closer.

If she just raised her hand, she could touch the scars on Sultan Gu’s face and confirm whether this grotesque, frightening face was real.

She reached out cautiously.

But she did not touch Sultan Gu’s face. Instead, she picked up a thin Persian blanket that lay crumpled at the foot of the bed.

Last night, she had kept tossing and turning, kicking off the quilt repeatedly during the period when the medicine was taking effect. Sultan Gu had again and again placed this light blanket over her legs, not too heavy to make her uncomfortable, yet enough to keep her from catching a cold.

Yaoying smiled slightly, shook the thin blanket open, and draped it gently over Sultan Gu, her movements soft for fear of waking him.

All this way, he had been constantly on guard day and night. She did not even know how many hours he managed to sleep each day.

Yaoying gazed at Sultan Gu for a moment before withdrawing her gaze and quietly getting out of bed.

Whether his face was real or not no longer mattered to her.

The clothes she had worn the day before had already been cleared away. On the long table stood two bowls of cold vegetable noodle soup. The broth had already congealed, and the noodles had swollen to pure white after soaking all night.

Yaoying clutched her shoes and socks and stepped barefoot onto the carpet, moving carefully to the outer room. She gathered her long hair, pulled on socks and shoes, and fastened her belt. In the past, she had been pampered beyond measure with three or four maids just to comb her hair. Now, she could skilfully tie up her hair herself, whether in women’s or men’s styles.

Outside the room came the rustle of footsteps, followed by a soft knock at the door.

Yaoying pulled the door open.

A guard stood outside, his head lowered to show a respectful demeanour. His eyes dropped to the threshold, where he caught sight of a pair of dainty deerskin boots clearly not belonging to any man. He froze, then lifted his head.

Yaoying stood prettily at the door. Her hair was tied up high, and she wore the pearl-patterned, half-sleeved brocade robe with a turned collar that he had found for her the previous night. A belt cinched her waist, and a dagger hung at her side. Her skin was fair as snow, her brows and eyes were elegant. Her face was still pale, and she gave him a gentle smile.

The guardsman came back to his senses and asked in a low voice, “Is the Princess feeling better?”

Yaoying nodded and said, “General Su has not yet woken. Do you have something urgent to report? If it is not urgent, wait another half hour.”

The guardsman scratched his head and said, “It’s not anything urgent. Last night, the Regent had ordered Alanruo to fetch some medicine. But with the city under lockdown, he couldn’t go out. This morning, he tried again but was driven back by the city patrol. The city is still under lockdown.”

Yaoying’s heart stirred. She stepped over the threshold, shut the door behind her, and asked the guard to show her the prescription.

The guard fetched the prescription. She took it and examined it carefully. The prescription was written in two versions- one in Hu script and one in Sanskrit. She could understand a little of the Hu script. The medicinal herbs listed were exactly those needed to ease the effects of her medicine.

This prescription had clearly been written for her.

Yaoying paused, lost in thought, and then lowered her eyes to study it again.

Sultan Gu’s handwriting was sharp and disciplined, each stroke vigorous and cutting through the paper. It was just like the man himself, commanding and fierce.

She remembered the handwriting of Tumoroga she had seen at the Buddhist temple. It was bright, graceful, composed, and ethereal, soaring lightly like a startled swan, graceful like a dragon in flight. Whether in Sanskrit, Hu, or Chinese characters, it had always been elegant. Just like the man himself, a banished immortal poised to ride the wind and ascend to the heavens.

Yaoying shook her head and laughed softly, brushing away the fleeting doubt that had crossed her mind in her muddled state last night.

She harboured many guesses in her heart, but that one was surely the most fanciful.

“This prescription was written for me.” Yaoying returned the paper to the guardsman and said, “We still don’t know what exactly is happening at the royal palace. Don’t let Alanruo take any more risks for going out. I’m already much better. There’s no need to take any more medicine.”

The guardsman stole a quick glance at her face. She still looked a bit weak, her voice faint and breathy, yet her expression remained calm and composed. Her eyes were bright and clear, showing no trace of illness. Thinking of how she could not even walk last night, he could not help but feel secretly impressed and made no further reply.

Yaoying asked about the incident at the posthouse.

The guard told her in detail about what had happened last night, then added, “There’s still no word from Yuanjue and the others who left the city last night. But Princess need not worry, Xie Qing and the others made it safely out. Alanruo has also made inquiries. The city’s curfew today was ordered by the royal palace and has nothing to do with the posthouse incident. The officials in the market have no idea that the young prince of Northern Rong was in Gaochang. They think the men who died at the post last night were killed in a brawl over caravan goods.”

Hearing that Xie Qing and the others had safely escaped the courier post, Yaoying finally felt at ease.

Alanruo, knowing she was awake, brought her a large bowl of tenderly stewed meat broth.