#96: Without You (VII)

“Physician Bai, it’s been a long time.”

Qu You inclined her head in greeting. Bai Ying waved his hand, smiling. “Why so formal?”

At his question, Qu You paused momentarily.

After a brief silence, she turned her head again and suddenly said, “Physician Bai, I want to ask you a rather absurd and foolish question.”

“Ask away.”

“In truth, I’ve been reflecting lately, and since you’re here, I wanted to ask… Suppose—just suppose—you drank the sacred water one day and saw your past and future lives…”

She paused, glancing at Bai Ying’s expression. But Bai Ying was not one for propriety; instead, he seemed intrigued. “Interesting. Go on.”

“You see that in one life, you spent an entire lifetime groveling as a servant, and in another, you lived under the constraints and oppression of worldly rules… These versions of you are entirely different from who you are now, yet they truly existed. After seeing them and waking up, would you still be you?”

Bai Ying fell silent for a moment, then clicked his tongue. “That’s a strange question. Let me turn it around—when you dream of your past life late at night, do you think that version of you is still you?”

“We are different from when we were children, but we remain the same person at five or at our coming-of-age. We’ve seen much and matured. Of course, you can remain as innocent as in childhood, but once grown, how could anyone willingly return to the past?”

Qu You paused for a moment, shifting her gaze back to the courtyard beyond the red threshold. “You’re right. I’m no longer who I was then. The marks left by experiences are hard to erase.”

Having said this, she suddenly lifted her leg and stepped over the red threshold before her.

A eunuch nearby tried to stop her, but seeing that she didn’t move forward after crossing, he respectfully stepped back to the side, hands clasped.

“Physician Bai just said he never imagined I’d wait behind this threshold,” Qu You raised her head and smiled at him. “Actually, as I stood there, I was thinking—it’s easy to cross this threshold. What’s difficult is deciding what to do once I’ve crossed.”

Bai Ying’s gaze shifted from the ground to Qu You. She pointed vaguely behind her, offering a slightly bitter smile.

“It’s just a threshold. A simple step can take you across. But if I disregarded everything and rushed to my husband’s side, tomorrow the officials in court would accuse him again, and today’s scene would repeat. In this situation, though I have freedom, I can relinquish it to avoid burdening him… If one doesn’t plan for the future, there will surely be immediate troubles. Would Physician Bai think I’m overthinking things?”

“Not at all, not at all—I underestimated you,” Bai Ying clasped his hands in apology. “I only thought of your fearless courage in the past, daring to knock on the drum of petitions in the streets. How could I imagine you hesitating now before such a threshold? Little did I know you’ve already thought it through so clearly. If that’s the case, why should I say another word?”

Qu You replied with a smile, “This situation is different from that one. Courage isn’t reckless freedom—it always has limits.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than she heard the sound of the cane striking flesh behind her. Zhou Tan had always been extremely resilient and would never cry out in pain.

Bai Ying tiptoed for a glance, hesitating to speak. But Qu You didn’t turn around. She steadied herself against the lacquered pillar beside the door, lowering her head again.

The thresholds of the imperial court were always built exceptionally high—one after another, like the trials she and Zhou Tan had faced repeatedly over the years—or lifetimes.

They supported each other through countless mountains and rivers, falling and rising again. They finally crossed the highest threshold—

She hadn’t died beside Zhou Tan’s humble grave, nor outside the western frontier walls in the fierce wind, nor before the gates of Bian Capital during the siege…

After enduring three springs of snow, she stood before her final dilemma.

But now, she couldn’t see the snow-covered path ahead at all, so she dared not take a single step.

Her own suffering didn’t matter. But she truly didn’t know if her single step might affect Zhou Tan, who wasn’t far ahead.

In this life and the last, all she sought was for Zhou Tan to live out his days in peace, enjoying his twilight years without bearing the stigma that wasn’t his to bear.

Now, she was by his side—but what was she supposed to do?

Until she figured it out, she wouldn’t dare move an inch. How could she gamble her beloved’s fate against destiny?

Seeing her expression, Bai Ying felt pity and tried to distract her. “You look pale. Have you been taking the medicinal diet I prescribed recently?”

Qu You, however, asked, “Physician Bai, I suddenly remembered that since my husband crossed south, you’ve been caring for his health. In your opinion, how is his condition now?”

Bai Ying’s gaze flickered, but Qu You, distracted by her thoughts, didn’t notice.

“Why are you suddenly asking about this? Don’t worry. Your husband… he’s fine. He’s always been frail since childhood, and later, his worries weighed heavily on him, causing temporary weakness. As long as he follows my prescriptions and stays in good spirits, he’ll recover soon.”

Hearing this, Qu You felt somewhat reassured but couldn’t help sighing.

Zhou Tan’s condition wasn’t too bad now. His early deaths in previous lives were likely due to overwhelming sorrow later on.

Just as she thought this, the sounds behind her stopped.

The officials from the morning court had finally departed. Qu You turned around and hurriedly ran to Zhou Tan’s side, lifting her skirts.

Zhou Tan was reaching for the official hat he had placed neatly before him before his punishment began. But sweat poured down his face, and his trembling hands couldn’t grasp it.

He struggled to steady himself, his fingers barely brushing the edge of the black official hat when a familiar slender hand picked it up.

Qu You knelt beside him, carefully placing the hat back on his head. “A gentleman must straighten his attire.”

She extended her hand, and he took it, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He softly asked, “Why are you here?”

Qu You helped him stand, supporting his arm. He leaned heavily on her, weakened by the pain.

For some reason, especially since their reunion, he couldn’t restrain his emotions whenever he saw her. He yearned to be close to her, their fingers intertwined, hearts beating together, hair entwined, to feel safe.

“His Majesty is waiting for us in the study.” Qu You glanced at him, her expression gentle and unworried. “Walk slowly. I’ll go with you.”

“All right.”

He walked very slowly, so focused that he only realized Bai Ying had been following them when they entered the study.

Bai Ying wore a mournful expression, immediately rushing to Song Shixuan to complain. “Your Majesty!”

“Can we ban officials from embracing each other within the palace? Or abolish the rule that imperial physicians must follow civil officials everywhere? I followed this couple all the way here, watching them embrace affectionately while I remained alone. It’s so unfair!”

Song Shixuan set down the scroll he was reading, glanced at a nearby eunuch, who quickly fetched chairs for everyone. Then he dismissed the palace attendants, closing the doors.

Only then did Song Shixuan relax, laughing ruefully. “Physician Bai, perhaps it’s time for you to marry.”

Bai Ying retorted, “Can the court assign concubines to imperial physicians?”

“…”

After exchanging pleasantries, Song Shixuan approached Zhou Tan, avoiding his gaze and murmuring, “Master, are you well?”

Zhou Tan chuckled. “Why won’t Your Majesty look up? I’m fine.”

Song Shixuan quickly said, “Here in the study, behind closed doors, Master needn’t address me as ‘Your Majesty.’”

Zhou Tan nodded. “All right, Ziqian. Why did you summon me?”

“I only called Master to examine your injuries privately. If the chief physician of the Imperial Hospital comes to your residence outside the palace tomorrow, those people will surely criticize again.”

Zhou Tan bowed slightly, then rose to follow Bai Ying into the inner chamber.

Qu You sat where she was, lost in thought. She stared at Song Shixuan’s worried expression but recalled the young emperor from a snowy night long ago. Back then, he was a few years older than now, already bearing the sharp, aloof authority of a ruler.

He lowered his eyes, his expression obstinately blank. Qu You still remembered the tremble in his voice.

But Song Shixuan interrupted her thoughts. “Mistress…”

Realizing the title was inappropriate, he quickly corrected himself. “Lady Qu, what are you thinking about?”

Qu You shook her head. Song Shixuan glanced back, then moved closer, speaking in a low voice. “Mistress, Ah Luo is dead.”

It took her a moment to realize he was referring to the white, chubby cat.

An indescribable sadness welled up in her heart. Song Shixuan twisted his robe, muttering, “From Bian Capital to Lin’an, through all the hardships, it survived just fine. But once inside the palace, despite being well-fed and cared for, it choked on a fish bone and passed away.”

Qu You asked, “Did you bury it?”

“Yes,” Song Shixuan hesitated, then continued. “Mistress, Master… he’s actually angry with me.”

Bringing this up surprised Qu You. She looked at him, asking, “Why?”

“When I first ascended the throne, I made two mistakes.” Song Shixuan sat beside her, twisting his robe. “The first, Mistress knows—Sir Shisan returned from the south and cried for a long time, hugging Physician Bai. Out of sympathy, I casually ordered his reinstatement… But that was against protocol.”

“At the time, I didn’t think much about it. Physician Bai accompanied me from Bian Capital to Lin’an. Several times when I ran a high fever on the journey, he saved me. Physician Bai is carefree and often treats the poor, embodying noble virtues. I wanted to reward him, but aside from the position of Chief Physician, which he doesn’t care much about, there was nothing else I could offer… So I thought reinstating Sir Shisan would be a way to repay him.”

Qu You remained silent.

Song Shixuan lowered his head, continuing. “Mistress, this is my first time as emperor. When I was young… I only remember my family’s destruction, too painful to recall. I’ve always lived cautiously, afraid of making mistakes. Now, finally in this position, even rewarding someone turns out wrong. The Office of Censors submitted a memorial the next day, accusing the Hall of State Affairs of bypassing the Ministry of Personnel in appointments, forcing Master to kneel in my study for an hour.”

He pressed his temples, closing his eyes. “It’s all my fault.”

Qu You patted the young emperor’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t blame you for such a thing. Kneeling that long was only to make you remember this lesson. The art of rulership is profound, and you’re still young. You’ll surely avoid such mistakes in the future.”

Song Shixuan pressed his temples, closing his eyes. “There’s one more thing…”

Qu You prompted, “Hmm?”

Song Shixuan’s voice dropped further, tinged with guilt.

“A month after marrying the Empress, I took a concubine.”

“I heard about it—the beauty surnamed Luo, correct?” Qu You thought for a moment. “The Empress said Lady Luo isn’t overly ingratiating and comes from a prominent family. Though the timing was close, with your harem empty, it wasn’t entirely against protocol.”

“A prominent family?” Song Shixuan gave a bitter laugh. “Mistress, do you know that this identity of a prominent family was fabricated by Master to prevent me from being criticized? She… is the daughter of a condemned minister from the previous dynasty.”

Before Qu You could react, he continued. “Master has scolded me for many things, and I’ve noted them all, correcting myself immediately or striving to avoid repeating the mistakes. But this matter… No matter how much Master opposed it, I insisted on doing it. This was the first time I was so…”

Before he could finish, the shrill voice of a eunuch outside the door interrupted. “Your Majesty, Consort Luo has brought fruit for you.”

Song Shixuan quickly masked his previous expression, rising from his chair. Qu You stood with him, turning to look behind.

“Let her in.”

In the sunlight streaming into the hall, she saw a graceful beauty approach. The woman lowered her lashes, setting down a food box, then greeted Qu You. “Lady Qu.”

Qu You opened her mouth to call out, but no sound came. She felt cold sweat trickle down her spine, freezing her in place.

“Consort Ting…”