BXG - 20

Shock and Pain

Hearing the commotion inside, He San hesitated briefly before barging into the hall. Closing the door behind him, he hurried over, assuming Qu You was one of Zhou Tan’s subordinates: “Sir, please hold Master Zhou tightly.”

He had clearly witnessed this scene more than once; though surprised, he showed little panic.

Qu You did as instructed, wrapping her arms tightly around Zhou Tan’s waist. Her mind raced with inappropriate thoughts even as He San rolled up Zhou Tan’s sleeve and swiftly slashed a clean cut across his arm with a knife.

“What are you doing?”

Qu You was startled, but before she could react, He San efficiently retrieved bandages and medicinal alcohol from the rear hall, pouring the latter onto the fresh wound.

It must have been excruciating. Zhou Tan instinctively struggled in his semi-conscious state, but Qu You’s embrace prevented him from injuring himself further.

He San placed a strip of gauze beneath Zhou Tan’s arm but left the wound uncovered. Turning to Qu You, he hesitated: “Sir, would you like to step outside with me? After I tend to him, Master prefers not to be disturbed.”

Outside? Qu You glanced down at Zhou Tan, who clutched her sleeve tightly, his consciousness fading: “It’s fine. Lord Zhou and I still have matters to discuss. You… handle this often? What ailment is this?”

He San replied respectfully: “Once Master awakens, you may ask him yourself. It’s not my place to say.”

He found a sheet of rice paper, carefully collected the shards of the shattered porcelain bottle and its pills, then bowed deeply before departing. Before leaving, he added: “Sir, wait for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, and there’s no need to dress the wound further.”

The cut wasn’t deep, and the medicinal alcohol seemed to help it clot slightly. Qu You loosened his sleeve to prevent it from sticking to the wound but accidentally caught sight of numerous scars—long and short—on Zhou Tan’s left arm.

From when Zhou Tan was severely injured earlier, she already knew he bore many old wounds. When he entered the Ministry of Justice prison earlier this year, he endured immense suffering before finally penning The Candlelight Pavilion Ode . But these new scars on his arm spoke volumes—they were all recent.

What kind of condition caused Zhou Tan to need self-inflicted wounds to suppress it?

Judging by He San’s practiced movements, this wasn’t the first time. These injuries likely accumulated during episodes of his illness, layer upon layer, a painful mosaic that sent shivers down Qu You’s spine.

Suddenly, Zhou Tan shuddered in her arms, prompting her to tighten her hold.

His half-closed eyes fluttered, regaining some awareness. His uninjured right hand slowly rose, pressing firmly against the wound.

The blood, which had begun to clot, immediately flowed afresh, eliciting a low, anguished groan from him.

Qu You barely had time to react, instinctively grabbing Zhou Tan’s right hand. To her surprise, his grip was incredibly strong, nearly breaking free. In desperation, their hands intertwined, and she managed to pin his hand to the ground: “Zhou Tan!”

At her call, Zhou Tan instantly stilled, his body going limp as he closed his eyes. His breathing gradually steadied.

After about the time it took for an incense stick to burn, Qu You saw him open his eyes.

Tears of pain still lingered in those amber depths, but they soon cleared, growing cold and distant. After a few labored breaths, he finally regained full awareness.

His gaze immediately fell on Qu You, who still cradled him, their hands clasped tightly together. His face went blank for a moment.

“You…” Qu You released his hand, and Zhou Tan quickly covered his wound, glancing downward. “This… was your doing?”

“It was your guard who acted,” Qu You interjected, knowing what he intended to say. “Are you feeling better now?”

Zhou Tan avoided her gaze, stiffly wrapping the gauze He San had placed under his arm around the wound. His breathing was uneven, but he remained silent.

Seeing how difficult it was for him to bandage the wound with one hand, Qu You sighed and took over. After applying more medicinal alcohol, she securely wrapped the gauze around the injury: “You’ll need proper medicine for this to heal faster.”

Even in his unconscious state, he had reacted to the pain, yet now fully awake, he uttered not a word. After finishing the bandage, Qu You noticed Zhou Tan still avoided looking at her: “What illness is this?”

“No need to ask further,” Zhou Tan rasped. Clutching his wound, he gave her a strained nod of thanks, though his tone carried a hint of warning. “Do not speak of this to anyone.”

Unfortunately, his pale face and weak voice lacked any real intimidation, making him resemble her stubborn, prideful cat after being injured.

Before Qu You could respond, Zhou Tan continued: “Since we’ve spoken frankly, I might as well tell you—I asked Wuping to entrust you with protecting the women of Fangxin Pavilion because I cannot intervene directly.”

“Miss Yan isn’t dead, so I assume you have other plans,” Qu You mused, glancing sidelong at him. “Of course, since the Ministry has taken over the case, you must avoid suspicion.”

Zhou Tan gave a soft “Mm” in acknowledgment: “I shouldn’t know about this yet, but these people will be useful later. Wuping can’t afford to appear publicly.”

“But if I can’t seek your help, how am I supposed to protect them?” Qu You asked.

“Seek out Physician Bai. He often helps the poor and has connections with laborers and beggars in North Street,” Zhou Tan explained. “There’s an underground network among those people in North Street.”

He meticulously laid out every detail, and Qu You listened silently before remarking: “Oh, so you investigated Bai Ying as well before deciding to use me. Lord Zhou, you truly leave nothing to chance.”

Zhou Tan leaned against the screen, staggering to his feet: “From saving my life to handling matters conveniently, I owe you a debt.”

“So?” Qu You mimicked his drawn-out tone, laced with sarcasm.

Zhou Tan replied: “Name your price. I prefer straightforward transactions.”

Qu You knew he would continue speaking this way, and she suddenly felt utterly incapable of communicating with this suspicious, overthinking, stubborn ancient man: “Who said I wanted to make a deal with you? Lord Zhou, you should focus on advancing your career and arrange our divorce as soon as possible. Otherwise, enduring your constant suspicion and arguing with you every day will drive me to an early grave.”

With that, she pushed the door open and left, leaving Zhou Tan alone in the hall.

He stood motionless for a long while, his gaze shifting to the writings on the screen. Unconsciously, he pressed lightly on his freshly bandaged wound, his brows furrowing before relaxing again.

Zhou Tan silently reflected. He had always assumed the offspring of scholar-officials would adhere to propriety, self-discipline, and moral rectitude. Yet Qu You… was unlike any woman he had ever encountered.

Divorce tarnished a woman’s reputation. Though remarriage was becoming more common, daughters of scholarly families valued their honor above all and wouldn’t agree easily.

But Qu You was unrestrained, straightforward, and possessed a clever cunning. She spoke freely, unbound by societal norms, unbothered by divorce, and casually mentioned death without hesitation. She was willing to rage for the plight of low-born women and equally willing to tend to his wounds.

He had investigated her thoroughly and found nothing. If she truly saved his life out of pure intention, she was indeed an exceptionally good woman.

Blood seeped through the neatly wrapped bandage, and Zhou Tan clenched his fists tightly, his expression blank as he walked out.

No matter why she didn’t care or why she spoke so bluntly—it was for the best.

She was right. A swift divorce was ideal. Someone like him shouldn’t have married in the first place.