Two days later.
After several days of continuous snowfall, the snow finally stopped. The sunlight pierced through the thick clouds, illuminating the snow-covered rooftops and walls, making the red plum blossoms in the courtyard appear even more enchanting.
The thick door curtain was lifted, and Murong Jing He stepped out quickly, followed closely by Qing Yan, who hurriedly draped a stone-gray squirrel-fur cloak over him.
Murong Jing He impatiently tried to throw it off, but Qing Yan quickly advised, "The sun on a snowy day is the coldest. You’ve just recovered; it’s best to be cautious. Besides, over at Miss Mei Lin’s place..."
"Enough, enough," Murong Jing He interrupted the nagging that was giving him a headache. As he walked, he tied the cloak's straps himself, which finally reassured Qing Yan.
The prince’s mansion wasn't large, and they walked quickly, arriving at the side courtyard in no time.
The bald-headed healer was lounging in the main room with his legs crossed, a pipe in his mouth, eyes half-closed as he warmed himself by the fire. A middle-aged woman, heavily made up, sat on the other side of the fire basin, strumming a stringed instrument and singing a folk tune from Jingbei.
As soon as Murong Jing He saw this scene, his face darkened, but he merely cast a cold glance at the woman without saying anything.
"Well, well, judging by your spirit, it seems the Prince has fully recovered! Congratulations, congratulations!" The bald-headed healer didn't move when he saw the two of them. He just raised his pipe in a mock salute, smiling as he spoke.
The woman, upon hearing it was the prince, hastily stopped playing and knelt down.
"Thanks to the divine healer," Murong Jing He replied with a forced smile, ignoring the woman as he headed straight to the inner room. Qing Yan, genuinely grateful to the bald-headed healer, lingered behind to exchange a few words, then motioned for the woman to continue before following to wait outside the inner room.
Moments later, Murong Jing He emerged, holding Mei Lin tightly wrapped in his cloak.
"I'm taking Mei Lin with me. Divine healer, please stay here comfortably. If you need anything, just instruct the servants." Clearly not wanting to disturb the sleeping woman, he spoke softly, his tone much gentler.
The bald-headed healer had no intention of stopping him and waved his hand dismissively. "Got it. Taking her away is good; it'll let me enjoy the music in peace."
Murong Jing He glanced at the woman whose singing had been loud enough to be heard before they even entered the courtyard. He sensed the deeper meaning in the healer's words, but didn’t mind. With a slight nod, he carried Mei Lin out.
He brought her straight back to his own courtyard, placing her in the main room. Watching her serene, pale sleeping face, he finally felt a sense of peace.
Mei Lin had lost a lot of blood, so she spent more time asleep than awake each day. Now, besides thinking of ways to replenish her blood, there was nothing to do but wait.
At noon, perhaps out of habit, she finally opened her eyes. Seeing that the surroundings were unfamiliar and smelling Murong Jing He's distinct scent, she was momentarily disoriented before realizing where she was.
At that moment, Murong Jing He was standing by the desk, looking at a map of Nanyue he had commissioned. Hearing the sound, he turned around and saw Mei Lin staring at him in a daze. He couldn't help but feel overjoyed. Striding over to the bed, he bent down to lift her up, and after touching her hand to find it warm, he finally relaxed. Smiling, he said, "You’ve slept for so long. If you didn’t wake up soon, you would have missed lunch." As he spoke, he called for someone to bring lunch.
Mei Lin felt as if she were dreaming. This vibrant, radiant Murong Jing He was something she had never seen before, so dazzling that it took her breath away. It wasn't until he pinched her cheek in confusion that she snapped out of it. She wanted to say she wished to wash up first but realized with a start that she had lost her voice. She felt a brief wave of sadness but quickly pushed it aside, simply gesturing that she wanted to wash up.
Murong Jing He's eyes darkened slightly, but then he smiled and said, "I'll help you."
With that, he truly had hot water brought in, personally wringing out the cloth to carefully wipe her face and hands. He then helped her brush her teeth with green salt and rinse her mouth. Afterward, he carried her to a chair, placing her in front of a full-length mirror in the room and began to comb her hair.
"I don’t have a woman’s dressing table here, so this will have to do," he explained. Despite his usual arrogance, his hands were gentle as he combed her hair, not causing any pain.
Mei Lin watched their reflections in the mirror, then shifted her gaze to his smiling face, and slowly began to smile herself. If she could speak, she would have said that this was far better than any dressing table, ten or even a hundred times better.
A small mirror on a dressing table could only reflect one person’s face, but here they could see both of their figures together. Now she understood how they looked when they were together. The only drawback was that she was too thin and pale at the moment, looking terribly haggard, while he was far too handsome.
Thinking of this, she lowered her eyes slightly, turned her head, and buried her face in his chest. It was better not to see; seeing the stark difference between them only made her heart ache.
Murong Jing He froze, stopping his combing, then wrapped his arms around her. Although she couldn't speak, he could still sense her sorrow.
After a moment, Mei Lin couldn't help but smile again. She then sat up straight, signaling him to continue. This man… if he wanted to, he could be this considerate.
Since moving Mei Lin to the central courtyard, Murong Jing He had spent every day staying with her, not leaving the room for over ten days, not meeting with anyone, and even having all three meals delivered by Qing Yan himself.
One day, heavy snow was falling, and the doors and windows were tightly shut. Thanks to the floor heating, the room was as warm as early summer. Mei Lin was reclining on the couch, absentmindedly embroidering a sachet. Suddenly, the sound of commotion from outside made her pause and listen intently.
Moments later, Qing Yan hurriedly knocked and entered. "General Muye is here. I'm blocking him outside. No matter what happens, don't come out." With that, he left quickly, closing the door firmly behind him.
"The prince is napping, and I dare not disturb him. General Muye has traveled a long way and must be tired. How about having a bowl of hot soup and resting a bit first? As soon as the prince wakes, I'll report it immediately." Qing Yan's calm, respectful voice came from outside the window.
Mei Lin climbed onto the couch and peeked through the gap in the window, catching a glimpse of a few graceful figures in deep red and plain white. She strained to see their faces, but when she couldn't, she gave up and sat back down, resuming her needlework. Her slightly raised ears caught Muye Luo Mei's familiar, sharp voice:
"At a time like this, and he still has the leisure to nap. Get out of my way, you useless servant! I'll wake him myself and see what he dares do about it!"
Mei Lin’s lips curved slightly, finding the situation amusing. As she thought this, she secretly channeled her inner energy, finding it to be flowing smoothly, which reassured her. At least if her luck ran out and she got caught up in trouble, she needed to have the strength to protect herself.
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