“You don’t know what you’re saying when you just say ‘alright.'”
Yang Wan picked up the noodles and headed inside.
Deng Ying smiled and followed her, saying, “We can try. Your understanding of His Majesty’s thoughts has always been more accurate than ours.”
Yang Wan turned around and said seriously, “Deng Ying, do you dare trust my intuition in matters like this?”
Deng Ying replied, “It’s not about trusting your intuition. This matter already rests entirely on His Majesty’s whim. You were able to help Secretary Zheng and Consort Ning before, so if it’s your method, I’m willing to try.”
Yang Wan pressed her lips together in silence, and Deng Ying didn’t press her.
As the steam faded from the cooling noodles, Yang Wan finally spoke, looking up, “The daily questioning and today’s reprimand – His Majesty wants His Highness to fear his sovereign father. If you report that His Highness has fallen ill from anxiety due to the constant questioning, perhaps His Majesty will immediately pardon him. As long as His Majesty intends to protect his son, this case won’t implicate Yang Lun and can only be concluded quickly with Huang Ran. But… today you’re the one questioning, and if His Majesty takes offense, this will become another charge for court officials to condemn you with. I don’t know what will happen.”
Deng Ying looked at Yang Wan, “Master Yang told me that no matter what I do, the court will never accept me again. He didn’t need to tell me – I understand this in my heart. For me, seeing political clarity and the successful implementation of land reform is what I want to see, and… ensuring your safety above all.”
He finished speaking and picked up his bowl, taking a bite of noodles, “It’s getting cold. Hurry and take these inside. I’ll leave after I finish eating.”
Yang Wan wanted to ask Deng Ying how this matter would have ended if she hadn’t suggested this method.
But when this question entered her mind, it once again gave her the feeling that she wasn’t just some fish that had slipped through the net.
She sat beside Yi Lang’s couch holding the bowl of noodles and opened her notebook.
The blank space marking that turning point she couldn’t write before – now she seemed able to write it, but she had no way to put her name in the notes.
That night, Yi Lang, overcome with fear and anxiety, indeed developed a high fever. By late night he was delirious with fever, clutching Yang Wan’s sleeve and calling continuously for Consort Ning. Yang Wan tucked the blankets around him and went out, forcefully knocking on Wuying Hall’s door. The Imperial Guard at the door immediately blocked her, pressing his blade against her throat.
“Wait.”
Yang Wan looked toward the voice.
She saw Zhang Luo in the corridor raise his hand, walking toward her while gesturing for the guard to lower his weapon and step back.
He came to stand before Yang Wan, looking her up and down.
She looked much more disheveled than before, her dress stained with ash from the firewood, her hair coming loose – she appeared somewhat pitiful.
Zhang Luo withdrew his gaze, holding his sword, “Breaking into a restricted area at night is a capital offense. What do you want?”
Yang Wan bowed, “His Highness has a high fever that won’t break. Please summon the Imperial Physician.”
Hearing this, Zhang Luo jerked his chin at the guards at the door: “Go check.”
“Yes.”
Two men strode past Yang Wan, bringing a gust of cold air. They soon returned to report, “Sir, His Highness indeed has a severe fever.”
Zhang Luo ordered, “Go to Huiji Gate with my token and summon the physician on duty.”
Then he used his sword hilt to pin Yang Wan against the hall door, “The Eastern Depot man came today. What are you planning?”
Yang Wan pressed against the sword hilt, “Let go.”
Zhang Luo turned his face away darkly but pressed her even harder, “If I find out you’re using His Highness to manipulate me, I won’t let you off again.”
As Yang Wan desperately tried to break free, she inadvertently grabbed Zhang Luo’s fingers, and he suddenly yanked his hand back.
Yang Wan crouched by the door catching her breath, saying nothing. She stood up, pressing her shoulder, and walked back to Hengshou Chamber without looking back.
The physician on duty at Huiji Gate was Imperial Physician Peng. After examining Yi Lang, he told Yang Wan, “Cold has entered his lungs – it’s quite dangerous. I must report to Yangxin Hall immediately.”
Yang Wan stood up, “What can I do…”
The physician looked at Yi Lang’s complexion and turned back to say, “Keep His Highness well covered and keep the charcoal burning warm.”
“Alright…”
She finished speaking and forcefully patted her aching shoulder before crouching down to add more charcoal.
The Imperial Physician casually asked, “What happened to the female attendant’s hand?”
Yang Wan said “Oh,” then added, “I just bumped into something.”
Just as she finished speaking, Yi Lang called out hazily, “Aunt…”
Yang Wan quickly wiped her hands and sat beside him, “Are you awake?”
“Mm… Aunt, I dreamed of Master Huang and Uncle…”
“What did you dream about them?”
Yi Lang didn’t answer but reached out with his burning-hot hand to embrace Yang Wan. She simply wrapped him up and held him in her arms.
“When Your Highness sees His Majesty, you must not argue with him.”
Yi Lang nodded, “Yi Lang knows. I will beg Father Emperor’s forgiveness and not let Mother, Aunt, and Uncle worry anymore.”
“Good.”
Human sentiment seems to flow naturally – this child didn’t need Yang Wan to say much more; he seemed to understand most of it.
Yang Wan held Yi Lang’s burning body and softly coaxed him back to sleep.
Just as day was breaking, the edict from Yangxin Hall indeed arrived. Emperor Zhenning ordered Yi Lang to be returned to Chengqian Palace to recover. Consort Ning came personally with an umbrella to receive him. When Yi Lang saw her, although he was unwell, he didn’t cry.
After settling Yi Lang in Chengqian Palace, Consort Ning turned to see Yang Wan standing silently by the screen.
“Wan’er, we owe you much gratitude.”