Chapter 522: A Candle in the Wind

Chapter 522: A Candle Flickering in the Wind

The capital.

A lone horseman came galloping, and the lazy gate guards suddenly tensed.

Who dared to race toward the city gate in the capital? Could it be some princeling, so arrogant?

"Halt, halt!" Seeing that he was about to charge right through, the guards braced themselves to stop him.

"Whoa!" The steed neighed loudly and came to an abrupt stop mid-gallop, displaying the rider's exquisite horsemanship and control.

The guards looked up; the usual request for travel permits was unnecessary—he was treated like a princeling.

Because as long as this fellow hadn't disguised himself, there was no one in the realm who wouldn't recognize him, and no one dared to ask him for the entry tax.

"The Asura King..."

Xue Canghai had not exaggerated; in the eyes of common folk, the first on the Human Roll was no less than a king's reverence, and even the authorities saw it that way.

This mindset was rather amusing, because ordinary Earth Roll rankings did not command such respect; only the first of the next tier, the Earth Roll's top, would have such a special aura, and it had to be earned through combat, not by succession.

Just as people remember who won the championship and took the gold medal; few recall who came second or third.

Last time he entered the capital, a fool had shouted his name, making it known to the entire city and causing no small trouble. This time, it seemed to matter little—even if they beat drums and gongs announcing Zhao Changhe's arrival, so what? Zhao Changhe had no mind to dwell on such things; he led his horse into the city and headed straight for the Tang residence.

"Venerable One! Venerable One!" At the Four Symbols Sect's villa, a disciple hurriedly reported to Zhuque: "The Asura King has entered the city."

Zhuque maintained her composure, slowly sipping tea: "Where is he going? Coming here, or to the Huangfu residence to find Shao Zong?"

"...He went to the Tang residence."

The air seemed to still for a moment, inexplicably heavy. Xia Chichi stole a glance at the Venerable One. Zhuque was silent for a moment, then sighed: "Chichi, this man doesn't have you in his heart. Let it go."

Xia Chichi's face was expressionless.

Zhao Changhe didn't even know she was here—why would he come? As for the Huangfu residence, that flirtatious consort was usually in the palace; who would be foolish enough to go to the Huangfu residence? She pondered for a moment, then said cautiously: "Venerable One, he might enter the palace to steal away the consort."

Zhuque blinked, then rose to leave.

Xia Chichi was stunned: "Venerable One, where are you going?"

"Oh," Zhuque said. "I have some matters to discuss with Huangfu, to coordinate with Zhao Changhe."

Xia Chichi hesitated, then said softly: "Venerable One, I want to go in too."

Zhuque frowned slightly. It wasn't that she forbade it, but whether Xia Chichi's identity was suitable. Before this, Xia Chichi had not even dared to enter the capital; this time she had reluctantly come but never mentioned entering the palace—yet now, for the sake of seeing her lover, she was willing to go that far.

But on second thought, there was really nothing inappropriate. If Chichi truly was Xia Longyuan's daughter, would Xia Longyuan kill her? Perhaps their meeting might spark something else; Zhuque suddenly wanted to see.

"The palace guards are strict; it's not easy to sneak in... I can come and go freely, but as for you..." Zhuque considered for a moment, then suddenly smiled: "If you must go in, you can disguise yourself as Huangfu's personal maid. But you'll have to endure some humiliation—you must obey Huangfu, at least show outward respect."

Xia Chichi gritted her teeth: "It's just a temporary expedient. What's a couple of days of deferring to her?"

Zhuque couldn't hide her smile, and left leisurely: "Then wait. I'll go find Huangfu first, have her find an excuse to leave the palace and come to the villa, and then take you in directly. That'll settle it."

Before the Tang residence.

"Asura King, please enter." The gatekeeper bowed and scraped: "The Chief is waiting for Your Highness in the parlor."

It seemed that by borrowing the title of "Asura King," their "Your Highness" came naturally, without any awkwardness.

Zhao Changhe strode inside, and from afar he saw Baoqin standing by the corridor, waving her handkerchief: "Over here, over here."

Zhao Changhe's solemn mood was shattered by that handkerchief—this wasn't the Ten Thousand Flowers Pavilion... and the Demon Suppression Bureau wasn't a brothel.

But as soon as he reached Baoqin, she immediately started whimpering: "You're finally here! Miss has been coughing up blood lately—please take a look..."

Zhao Changhe's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly entered the parlor.

Tang Wanzhuang sat at the table, brewing tea. The fragrance of tea curled upward, steam rising, creating a scene as beautiful as a fairyland—but the pallor of her face, like paper, and her occasional light cough shattered the entire mood.

It was late summer, the weather unbearably hot, yet Tang Wanzhuang was still dressed thickly. Though not as heavily as when they first met, when she even wore a fur coat, it was still the thickness of spring or autumn attire.

"Still playing at elegance and refinement?" Zhao Changhe strode in, grabbing her wrist: "Don't move, let me check."

Tang Wanzhuang pouted and shot a glance at Baoqin.

The meaning was clear: you go, don't watch here; I need to maintain at least some dignity.

Baoqin rolled her eyes, backed out of the room, and closed the door behind her. Who wants to watch you two? It'll give me styes!

But nothing that would give anyone styes happened inside. Zhao Changhe held her pulse, his brows tightly knit, his expression extremely grave.

Tang Wanzhuang stole a look at his face and said softly: "Don't you dare scold me."

Zhao Changhe almost laughed in exasperation: "So you know you deserve a scolding."

Tang Wanzhuang muttered: "I didn't force anything to cause this. You can't blame me."

Indeed, she hadn't forced anything. It was just that the heavens had changed so drastically, and her worry and brooding were deeply draining—and the root of her illness was her spirit. But how could she not worry? As long as she remained the Chief of the court, she was still Tang Wanzhuang.

Unless she truly retired to the countryside—was that possible?

Zhao Changhe sighed, finally unable to blame her, and only said: "Do you know how serious your condition is now?"

"You learned medicine from me."

"..."

Tang Wanzhuang knew very well that the damage from a relapse of an old illness was far worse than the original, but she couldn't show weakness. Once she said, "I can't do it, help me," given their treatment dynamic, it would be no different from begging for intimacy.

Zhao Changhe shook his head, went to the table, took paper and brush, and quickly wrote out a list. He went out and handed it to Baoqin: "Get these herbs immediately, and also bring a coal stove for decocting."

Baoqin was startled—she had thought they might be kissing inside. It seemed the situation was truly serious. She stopped her idle thoughts, took the prescription, and hurried away.

Zhao Changhe sat back down beside Tang Wanzhuang, took her hand in his, and silently began to circulate the Spring Return Art.

This was the enhanced Spring Return Art, now combined with the healing power of the Undying Blood Demon Body. Tang Wanzhuang suddenly felt a surge of rejuvenation spreading through her entire body, many times stronger than before.

She stared blankly at Zhao Changhe's face. This time, he was much more silent, and also seemed much more reliable.

Time in the martial world hastens one's years. Two years ago, he had been a spirited, reckless youth who talked a mile a minute; now he was like the pillar of a household, silently supporting everything.

"I can't blame you," Zhao Changhe suddenly spoke. "Your relapse is partly my fault—after all, I killed a prefect and sided with rebels. It's enough that you don't blame me."

Tang Wanzhuang was silent for a moment, then said softly: "I don't blame you."

Zhao Changhe was taken aback, forgetting what he had meant to say. After a long pause, he continued: "...I want to see Xia Longyuan. Can you arrange for me to enter the palace?"

Tang Wanzhuang was startled: "What do you want to see him for?"

Zhao Changhe said: "What, you don't want me to be the crown prince? How can I become crown prince without seeing him? By rebelling?"

Tang Wanzhuang shuddered: "I'll go report to him right away and have him summon..."

"Don't summon me," Zhao Changhe sighed. "A rule-abiding court official is indeed respectable, but also a fool. It's really contradictory."

Tang Wanzhuang: "...I'm not that pedantic!"

This defiant little expression finally lightened the heavy atmosphere a bit. Zhao Changhe couldn't help but smile: "You're not pedantic?"

Tang Wanzhuang said angrily: "If I were really that stubborn and pedantic, who would have kissed you before marriage!"

A devastating blow.

Zhao Changhe blinked: "Then take me in secretly."

Tang Wanzhuang said helplessly: "I can take you secretly through the palace gate, but how can I take you into the inner palace? I can't even enter the inner palace myself. Do you expect me to be able to go in and out freely?"

Zhao Changhe jolted: "That won't do!"

Tang Wanzhuang looked at him sideways.

They exchanged a glance, both knowing in their hearts whom to seek for this matter.

Tang Wanzhuang said petulantly, "We could have just taken the proper path and had him summon you in! Hmm..."

At the end, she suddenly trembled, unable to suppress a moan.

Their hands had been clasped all along; during their conversation, Zhao Changhe had been using the Return Spring Art to nurture her, and just then it had healed some of her wounds. The tingling sensation of recovery made Tang Wanzhuang lose control for a moment.

"Your Highness, the medicine is here... here... here..." Baoqin burst in excitedly, then slowly backed away, eyes going blank.

What was that sound just now...

Zhao Changhe grumpily reached back with a grab, and Baoqin suddenly felt an invisible force seize the medicine in her hand, as if a giant unseen hand carried the packet flying into Zhao Changhe's grasp.

With a "bang," the door was shut again by that invisible hand.

Baoqin, tears in her eyes, crouched on the ground, holding her head where it had hit the door.

Inside the room, Zhao Changhe lit a stove and added the medicine. Tang Wanzhuang curiously craned her neck, watching as Zhao Changhe pulled a small vial of blood and a sliver of flesh from his ring.

"What is that?"

"Blood of the Blood Turtle—luckily there's some left." Zhao Changhe boiled the flesh and blood together with the herbs, staring absently into the fire: "Now it's not just the illness itself; your vitality is drained and waning. Even if I heal your wounds, you won't live long. I have to find a way to replenish your life force. By fortune, this Blood Turtle is the right remedy. But you must promise me—no more injuries until you're fully healed, or even the gods couldn't save you..."

Tang Wanzhuang opened her mouth but couldn't bring herself to promise.

With the world in such chaos, how could she do nothing? As long as she acted, no one could guarantee she wouldn't be hurt.

Even Zhao Changhe knew this demand was nearly impossible. He stared silently at the fire for a long time, then suddenly turned in frustration, pulled her into his arms, and bit down fiercely.

Tang Wanzhuang's eyelashes trembled, and she closed her eyes.

This Great Xia was like a candle in the wind, and so was she, Tang Wanzhuang. Zhao Changhe's so-called Blood Turtle elixir was probably just patching things up, much like her earlier efforts to paper over the cracks in the empire.

In the final days of life, there was really nothing left to be reserved about.