Lava

Kapitel 71

Ma Da Sao shouted at his retreating figure.

Zhan Zhao saw Gongsun Ce off at the door. After they left the courtyard, Gongsun Ce slowed down, looked at Zhan Zhao, and hesitated to speak.

“Sir, please speak frankly,” Zhan Zhao said.

“This Miss Mo’s pulse is a bit deep, indicating that evil is trapped inside and her yang energy is not flowing smoothly. She must have suffered a serious injury when she was young, which has caused her emotional distress. Therefore, after being frightened, her body reacts more strongly than usual,” Gongsun Ce said.

Zhan Zhao was taken aback: "You suffered a serious injury when you were young? Could you please explain what that injury was?"

Gongsun Ce shook his head: "I don't know either, I'm just guessing based on her condition."

"Is...it serious?"

"It's alright if it's urgent," Gongsun Ce laughed, "just don't get frightened so easily. ...By the way, is the princess settled?"

Zhan Zhao smiled wryly: "His Majesty probably feels sorry for her. He said that she can travel abroad for a few days, but she must be brought back unharmed."

Gongsun Ce patted him on the shoulder with sympathy and teased, "Compared to before, this is quite a good job."

Zhan Zhao shook his head helplessly.

"No need to see me off, you should go home and rest early."

Zhan Zhao smiled and nodded, and the two parted ways. He returned to Mo Yan's room. A short while later, Ma Han returned with the medicine. Mo Yan was burning hot from the fever, and Ma's wife was about to prepare it…

"Honey, you take care of her for a while, and remember to change her handkerchief frequently," Ma Da Sao instructed Ma Han.

Ma Han had never done such trivial things before, and waved his hands repeatedly: "I can't do it, I can't do things like serving young girls."

Mrs. Ma said with a smile, "Why can't you do it? What would you do if I were the one who was sick?"

Ma Han clasped his hands and said, "Isn't there still my mother?"

Knowing her husband's temperament, she knew she couldn't do anything about him, so Mrs. Ma shook her head with a smile.

"I'll take care of her," Zhan Zhao said from the side.

"You..." Ma's wife was taken aback. Zhan Zhao was a fourth-rank official, yet she dared to order him around like this. Zhan Zhao had already stepped forward, wrung out the half-damp cloth again, and carefully applied it to Mo Yan's forehead. She saw this and smiled, "Lord Zhan, you treat this little girl like your own sister, don't you?"

Zhan Zhao smiled slightly but did not answer.

Mrs. Ma took the medicine packet and walked towards the door. She tapped Ma Han's forehead with her finger, and the latter chuckled foolishly.

Chapter Five

Author's Note: Thank you all for your concern and suggestions. Sending kisses to Shibao! Shibao had a fever caused by the measles vaccine. Thankfully, it only reached a high of 39.5 degrees Celsius in the middle of the night. We didn't give her any medicine or take her to the hospital; we just gave her plenty of water. The fever has subsided, and the rash has appeared. She's recovered safely. Although I'm a bit tired, seeing her alright is the best thing.

...Human will is a strange thing. Even if one day you're exhausted to the point of being skin and bones, you'll most likely still keep going, albeit unsteadily. He changed the handkerchief several times, but it was still scalding hot, and her lips were parched. Zhan Zhao dipped the handkerchief in tea and gently applied it to her lips, moisturizing the peeling areas.

Feeling the coolness on her lips, Mo Yan shifted slightly and murmured, "Father... Father... Father, save me..."

Those four words again! Zhan Zhao was startled. Seeing her furrowed brows and pained expression, he couldn't tell if it was from illness, a nightmare, or both. She looked the same when she had a fever last time. He usually saw her smiling, but he had almost never seen her in such pain. "She suffered a severe trauma in her childhood, and the pain has been weighing on her heart," Master Gongsun's words came back to mind. Zhan Zhao frowned deeply—what had she experienced in her childhood to be so haunted by this persistent nightmare?

"Father, save me... save me..." Her voice gradually faded, becoming barely audible, and then disappeared, her consciousness sinking back into deep darkness.

The room was quiet, with the occasional sound of snowflakes falling from the eaves outside the window. Zhan Zhao leaned against the bed, occasionally checking Mo Yan's forehead temperature. Despite his tired face, his eyes remained gentle and bright.

Mo Yan woke up the next day; her fever had subsided after taking the medicine. She put on her robe and opened the window. A gust of cold wind rushed in, instantly clearing her groggy mind. The heavy snow had just stopped, and the snow in the courtyard shone brightly in the sunlight. From the door to the gate, several lines of footprints, some clear and some blurry, came into her view.

She examined the few rows of footprints, a smile playing on her lips, silently counting in her mind: Sister-in-law Ma, Brother Ma, Mr. Gongsun, and Brother Zhan. Judging from the clarity of the footprints, Brother Zhan had come to see her again after the snow stopped, probably in the early morning, but unfortunately she was still asleep at the time.

She closed the window and curled back into bed. Sister-in-law Ma had told her that Wang Chao had allowed her to rest at home for a few days. She sighed deeply, relieved that she wouldn't have to patrol the streets anymore, even if it was just for a few days. The image of the woman hanging herself yesterday still lingered in her mind. Although Sister-in-law Ma had told her the woman wasn't dead, she remained skeptical, feeling they were just making up a story to comfort her.

The room was pleasantly quiet, though a little boring. Mo Yan tossed and turned several times, unable to fall asleep, so she strained her ears to listen to the sounds outside. Back home, her second brother often made her close her eyes to practice her hearing, but she found it stifling and always secretly kept her eyes open. Now, however, it was a way to relieve boredom.

The sound of birds flapping their wings.

The sound of snow falling from the treetops and hitting the ground.

In the distance, faint voices could be heard coming from the east corner gate, but unfortunately, it was impossible to make out what they were saying.

Very close, very close, the courtyard gate creaked open, and someone pushed it open and came in—

Brother Zhan? No, the person's steps were heavy, clearly indicating they didn't know martial arts; Sister-in-law Ma? No, it wasn't a woman's gait; Mr. Gongsun? Probably not either... Mo Yan closed her eyes, guessing wildly until the person knocked on the door.

"Xiao Qi! Xiao Qi!" The knocking on the door was rhythmic, and the person muttered to themselves, "...Is this the place?"

Six catties! No, it should be Prince Ning.

"Wait...wait!" It was not appropriate to receive guests while lying in bed, so Mo Yan had no choice but to put on her robe, get out of bed, and open the door.

"You..." Ning Jin was stunned when he saw her appearance. He forgot what he was going to say and asked in surprise, "Are you sick?"

Mo Yan was concerned about her reputation. If she said she was sick, he would probably ask how she was sick, which would be too embarrassing to say. So she simply shook her head and said, "No, I'm perfectly fine."

Ning Jin noticed the bruise on her forehead immediately. Without thinking too much, he reached out to touch it. Mo Yan, unaware of his intentions, turned her head away warily.

"What's wrong?" she asked, puzzled.

Ning Jin frowned: "Such a big bruise, where did you bump into again?"

"What do you mean 'again'..." Mo Yan touched her hand, wincing in pain, and made up a story: "I wasn't paying attention this morning and bumped into the door."

Ning Jin gave her a look of utter disdain, then sat down at the table, suddenly adopting an accusatory expression: "Didn't you tell me last time you were leaving on the ninth? Why did you leave on the seventh?"

Mo Yan scratched her ear and sat down with a puzzled look on her face: "I mean, the ninth day of the lunar month?"

"Yes," Ning Jin said decisively.