Chapter 59

The next morning.

When Yiing opened her eyes, the sunlight streaming through the window was already quite dazzling.

She knew it must already be midday by now, yet the entire Zhang residence was eerily quiet, with not a sound to be heard.

For a fleeting moment, Yiling almost thought she was dead.

She weakly sat up, raising her hand to part the gauzy bed curtains. She saw a breeze slipping through the slightly opened window, rustling the letters spread out on the desk. Only then did she feel a faint sense of relief.

She wasn’t dead, but the way she felt now wasn’t much better than death.

A night of high fever had sapped nearly all her strength; even breathing felt laborious.

Her body temperature hadn’t come down either. Her palms were still burning hot, even more unbearable than yesterday.

At this moment, she sat blankly on the bed, her mind buzzing like a swarm of mosquitoes. It took a long while before her scattered consciousness finally began to piece itself together.

Suddenly, a memory of last night’s dream resurfaced, making her shudder.

The silent intimacy of whispered touches, the mingled heat of breaths in the darkness…

Xie Hengzhi’s low, uneven breathing still seemed to echo in her mind.

And that…

Yiling raised her hand, lightly brushing her lips.

The faint sensation of Xie Hengzhi’s kiss still lingered, as if it hadn’t yet faded away.

How could she dream of something like that?!

They say that dreams at night stem from thoughts during the day. Could it be that she…

No, definitely not. It must be because Xie Hengzhi is always looming in front of her, making her constantly worry he’ll lose control, which led to such an absurd dream.

But… but the sensations were so vivid. Was it really just a dream?

A soft creak suddenly interrupted Yiling’s thoughts.

Startled, she looked up to see the worn wooden door being pushed open. Xie Hengzhi entered, carrying a food box in one hand.

Yiling immediately lay back down, pretending to still be asleep.

Unfortunately, in her haste, she made quite a bit of noise. Though she managed to lie down, the gauzy curtains were still swaying gently, refusing to settle.

Fortunately, Xie Hengzhi didn’t seem to notice.

He kept his gaze down, placing the food box on the Eight Immortals table. Calmly and methodically, he took out a bowl of plain porridge and a small plate of side dishes from inside.

As he arranged the food, he asked, “Thirsty?”

He didn’t even glance toward the bed.

Of course Yiling was thirsty.

Her throat was parched, as if filled with sand.

But she didn’t dare respond. She lay motionless, waiting for her heartbeat to calm down before slowly sitting up.

She didn’t even lift her head, instead staring at the floor, watching Xie Hengzhi’s boots step closer, one deliberate step at a time.

When he stopped and handed her a cup of tea at the bedside, Yiling reached out to take it, her head practically buried in her chest.

“Thank you.”

She thought he might exchange some pleasantries, but instead, he unexpectedly asked, “Why is your face so red?”

Yiling: “?”

Is it?

She almost dropped the teacup, though luckily it only contained warm water.

As she pondered how to explain her appearance, Xie Hengzhi added, “Still feverish?”

Yiling hesitated, then replied, “…Oh, probably.”

A warm hand pressed against her forehead.

He leaned down, maintaining a half-arm’s distance, yet his breath seemed to brush against her face. It felt unnervingly similar to the sensations from her dream last night.

Yiling immediately closed her eyes, her recently calmed breathing becoming erratic once more.

Moments later, Xie Hengzhi removed his hand and murmured, “Even hotter than yesterday.”

Then he turned and walked to the tripod basin stand nearby.

Yiling peeked through her slightly open eyes, watching as he soaked a face cloth in warm water, wrung it out, and used it to wipe the sweat off her face.

“Eat something first. When the doctor comes this afternoon, he’ll take another look.”

Seeing his usual calm demeanor, Yiling’s mind was flooded with countless questions.

But what she finally asked was, “Did you sleep well last night?”

After speaking, she carefully observed Xie Hengzhi’s expression.

“Quite well,” Xie Hengzhi replied, lifting his gaze. “Did you not sleep well?”

Yiling blurted out, “How could I sleep well when I’m this sick?”

Xie Hengzhi seemed to think for a moment before replying, “You looked like you slept quite soundly.”

Yiling: “R-Really? Like… completely still while sleeping?”

Xie Hengzhi nodded. “Yes, you didn’t move.”

Finally, Yiling let out a long sigh of relief.

So, it really was just a dream.

She thought so. How could it possibly…

Ah, she was practically on death’s doorstep, yet she still dreamed of something like that?
Her fever must have fried her brain!

Forcing herself to eat half a bowl of plain porridge and take her medicine, Yiling lay back down again.

Sleep was out of the question; her body remained weak and achy, leaving her unable to do anything else.

With her eyes closed, she felt the heat radiating from her body, her frustration simmering like boiling oil.

Why was the doctor’s prescription completely useless?

But then she thought again.

If the doctor’s remedies worked, the people of Songyuan County wouldn’t be dying in such numbers.

The thought made her nose sting, and she silently shed tears on the bed.

Compared to an unforeseen death, knowing she was incurable and utterly helpless was far more terrifying.

It was as if her life had taken on a tangible form, slipping away before her eyes, completely out of her grasp.

After silently mourning herself for a while, Yiling turned over, gazing through the curtains at Xie Hengzhi, who was seated at the Eight Immortals table.

The guest room in the Zhang residence was small, with barely enough space for a bed and a single table.

Xie Hengzhi had to deal with official matters here, cramped as it was.

At the moment, he held a pen in hand, not writing but seemingly using it as a tool to think, occasionally sketching a line or two on the blank paper.

Could the plague in Songyuan County really be solved just by him racking his brains here?

It was clear he was avoiding contact with the infected at the Benevolence Shelter.

But if he truly stayed by her side day and night like this, how was that any different from being near the infected?

Yiling sighed softly, unsure of his intentions.

Yet seeing his calm composure, Yiling felt a flicker of hope—maybe things weren’t as dire as she imagined?

With this thought, her mind eased slightly.

Sunlight filtered through the lattice window, casting a faint glow on Xie Hengzhi’s back.

Perhaps the medicine had a soothing effect, for Yiling felt drowsiness slowly overtaking her again…

“My Lord! Lord Xie!”

Her eyes had just closed when a frantic cry outside startled her back into full wakefulness.

She bolted upright, speaking before Xie Hengzhi, “What’s happened?!”

Xie Hengzhi put down his pen and glanced back at her.

“Stay in bed and rest.”

Perhaps to keep out the draft, Xie Hengzhi closed the door after stepping outside.

Yiling couldn’t see what was happening but could hear the panicked voice of a maid from Lady Zhang’s household, stammering about something concerning the master and madam.

She waited anxiously for quite a while before Xie Hengzhi finally returned; his face darkened.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

Xie Hengzhi pursed his lips and stared intently at Yiling, as if debating whether or not to tell her the news.

After a moment, he finally spoke. “Zhang Xianling has fallen ill.”
“W-what?”
Yiling felt the world go dark, with not a shred of hope in sight. “Even Zhang Xianling has caught the illness?!”

Half an hour later, the once quiet Zhang residence was now filled with commotion.

Xie Hengzhi stood at the doorway of the side chamber, watching the magistrate’s room. Yiling stood behind him, trying to see clearly but too scared to step forward, only daring to poke her head out.

That morning, Zhang Xianling had visited Beitanfang and, upon returning, felt dizzy and lightheaded.

After resting on the couch for a while, he developed a fever, and red rashes appeared all over his body.

Given the circumstances, there was no need for a doctor to diagnose him; it was evident what had happened.

Everyone was deeply worried, though not entirely surprised. After all, Yiling had fallen ill just from speaking a few words to an infected person. Zhang Xianling, who had been tending to the sick at Beitan Fang daily, personally handling everything, would have been a miracle if he hadn’t fallen ill.

What Yiling hadn’t expected was that upon realizing his condition, Zhang Xianling insisted on moving into Beitan Fang.

He didn’t even allow his servants to help him. Instead, he packed a few warm clothes himself and prepared to leave the residence.

His wife, Lady Zhang, followed behind him, crying bitterly yet not daring to get too close.

As they reached the courtyard, Xie Hengzhi looked at the elderly magistrate and said, “my Lord, Beitan Fang is harsh and cold. You’d better stay in the residence to recuperate.”

“I deeply appreciate your kindness, my lord,” Zhang Xianling replied, bowing deeply from a distance. His voice trembled as he continued, “Beitan Fang exists to house the sick. As someone infected, it is only right that I stay there.”

Hearing this, Yiling quickly tugged on Xie Hengzhi’s sleeve.

“He’s—he’s blaming me!” she whispered urgently.

“…Don’t overthink it,” Xie Hengzhi replied, pushing her head back down before addressing the magistrate in the courtyard. “Then please, take care of yourself, master Zhang.”

“You and your lady wife must also take care,” Zhang Xianling said solemnly, glancing up at the overcast sky. With a sorrowful expression, he added, “There is still no cure for this plague. You, as a pillar of the court, should leave this place if it becomes unavoidable.”

Lady Zhang followed Zhang Xianling out of the residence, her eyes still brimming with tears as she watched him walk away.

The moment Zhang Xianling stepped out of the gate, Yiling fainted.

Not long ago, Yiling had held onto a sliver of hope.

But now, with even Zhang Xianling moving into Beitanfang, she felt as though Songyuan County had become a living hell, where the infected could only resign themselves to death.

Utterly despondent, she couldn’t even cry. She just sat blankly against the headboard, recalling her short and tragic two lifetimes.

She didn’t even notice when Xie Hengzhi opened the door and let a stranger in.

It wasn’t until Xie Hengzhi brought the person to her bedside and said, “The doctor is here to check your pulse again,” that Yiling became aware.

Listlessly, she extended her hand beyond the bed curtains without saying a word.

But the doctor didn’t immediately take her pulse. Instead, she lifted the bed curtains.

Yiling raised her eyes and was surprised to find that today’s doctor was a woman.

The female doctor wore a veil, leaving only her eyes visible. She examined Yiling’s complexion carefully, then held her arm and gently lifted her sleeve.

Seeing no rashes on her arm, the doctor turned to Xie Hengzhi.

“Yesterday, she had two red spots on her chest,” Xie Hengzhi explained. “But no new ones have appeared today.”

The female doctor nodded and began taking Yiling’s pulse.

How strange, Yiling thought. Why isn’t this doctor speaking?

Unconsciously, Yiling straightened up, her gaze lingering on the doctor’s brows and eyes. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they seemed familiar.

Moreover, although the doctor revealed only her eyes, her gaze was calm and resolute, making her seem much more reliable than the doctor from the day before.

Yiling’s attention shifted back to her own fragile life. When the doctor finished and withdrew her hand, Yiling immediately asked, “Well? What’s the diagnosis?”

The doctor looked at her briefly before shaking her head.

With a thud, Yiling fell back onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. In a hoarse voice, she muttered, “So I really am beyond saving…”

Hearing this, the doctor hurriedly waved her hands in denial, then turned to her medicine box and hastily wrote a few words on a piece of paper, handing it to Xie Hengzhi.

Xie Hengzhi read it and exclaimed, “You’re not sick?”

Yiling shot upright at once, staring wide-eyed. “I’m not sick?!”

The doctor nodded and, seeing Yiling’s eager expression, gestured rapidly with her hands.

Realizing something, Yiling exclaimed, “You’re saying it’s just acclimatization issues?”

The doctor, surprised that Yiling understood her sign language, continued gesturing.

“Yes,” Yiling confirmed, “I did fall into cold water recently, and the chills haven’t fully passed.”

The doctor gestured again.

Yiling let out a long sigh of relief, patting her chest. “I did travel a long way from the capital; I’ve been utterly exhausted!”

“And what about the rashes on my body?” she asked.

After thinking for a moment, the doctor gestured again.

Yiling glanced at the bedding on her bed and suddenly understood.

“These blankets really are coarse,” she said, “and I’ve been sleeping terribly.”

After speaking, she exhaled deeply again. Her eyes reddened slightly, as though she still couldn’t believe it.

“Really? I’m truly not sick. But yesterday, that doctor said I was infected.”

The female doctor shook her head, gesturing in a way that even Yiling could understand.

If she were infected, her body would already be covered in rashes by today, and she wouldn’t be able to sit up and speak anymore.

That’s wonderful, truly wonderful!

Yiling was so overjoyed that she almost burst into tears.

She wasn’t infected! She wouldn’t die of illness here!

Seeing Yiling’s eyes brimming with tears, the female doctor couldn’t help but want to pat her arm in comfort.

But recalling the identity of the woman before her, she held back and turned to write a prescription instead.

Meanwhile, Xie Hengzhi, standing to the side, visibly relaxed as well.

However, recalling how Yiling had been able to understand such complex sign language just now, he couldn’t help but scrutinize her more closely.

Yiling, however, didn’t notice Xie Hengzhi’s gaze at all. She was still immersed in the joy of relief, her eyes fixed intently on the female doctor, feeling as though she had encountered her savior.

But the longer she looked… the more familiar the doctor seemed.

A woman in her early thirties, familiar features, and a speech impairment…

Wasn’t this the very same Doctor Meng Qingyun who had attended to her personally in the capital for seven years?!

“Yun niang?” The thought had barely surfaced when Yiling couldn’t resist speaking up to confirm, “Is it you?”

Meng Qingyun, who was in the middle of writing the prescription, turned back in astonishment, looking at Yiling with a puzzled expression before gesturing a few signs.

The gestures were simple enough that even Xie Hengzhi could understand them.

Madam, do you know me?

Yiling’s heart skipped a beat.

She had forgotten—while she could recognize Meng Qingyun before her, there was no way Meng Qingyun could recognize her.

At a loss for words, a creeping sense of unease swept over Yiling.

More concerning than Meng Qingyun’s lack of recognition at this moment was…

She turned her gaze toward Xie Hengzhi with a guilty conscience.

Could he have figured anything out?