Chapter 42: Dissolving Awkwardness

"Yan’er!"

Pan Yueyang was about to chase after the man, but upon hearing his junior brother’s anxious call, he turned back and saw Yan’er had already collapsed in silence.

Baili Mubai, his eyes rimmed red, looked up at this senior brother he had always revered…

"Let’s take her back first."

"Water..." Yan’er’s throat was parched and dry. She couldn’t open her eyes, only murmured as if in a dream.

Someone gently brought a cup to her lips, spooning water little by little to her mouth.

But before she could drink, Yan’er slipped back into unconsciousness.

The visitor let out a quiet sigh.

"Mmm..." Yan’er tugged at her clothes, feeling unbearably hot…

She loosened her clothing and kicked off her quilt for some coolness.

Someone covered her again with a thick blanket... Oh, it was suffocating.

Yan’er remained in a coma for five full days.

Five days later

Pain. Every limb and bone ached. Yan’er’s fingers twitched; her head swam. Forcing herself, she fluttered her long lashes but still couldn’t open her eyes.

"Yan’er? Are you awake?" Baili Mubai, watching over her, nearly forgot to set down the medicine in his hands.

Hearing Mubai’s voice, Yan’er wondered: Mubai?

Her tightly shut eyes opened slowly. "Ugh…" She tried to speak, but her lips were so parched they stuck together.

Pan Yueyang brought water and moistened her lips with the spoon. Yan’er drank greedily, feeling somewhat better. She looked up to see herself cradled in Pan Yueyang’s arms as he fed her water.

Yan’er balked at his closeness, but thirst overcame her reluctance. Spoon after spoon, she drank.

"You’re finally awake." Pan Yueyang allowed himself to relax.

"Yes, Yan’er. These past days, your senior brother has kept vigil by your side day and night because of your coma," Baili Mubai said, handing the medicine to Pan Yueyang.

"I…" Yan’er glanced at Pan Yueyang, mocking herself inwardly. He only cared for the child in her womb—what had that to do with her?

"Come, drink the medicine first." He brought the bowl near.

Yan’er frowned deeply. The moment the liquid approached, its bitterness wafted out. "It’s too bitter," she protested, eyeing the dark concoction.

"You must drink it!" Pan Yueyang held the spoon to her lips. "You’ve been unconscious for five days with a persistent fever, and you still have external injuries."

"What?" Five days! Yan’er blinked; she thought it had only been a nap.

"That’s right, Yan’er—five whole days!" Baili Mubai smiled, urging her to take the medicine.

"I won’t. It’s too bitter." Yan’er turned her head away, refusing to look at the inky liquid.

Pan Yueyang smiled. "Mubai, go rest. I’ll stay with Yan’er."

Obediently, Baili Mubai gave Yan’er a reassuring smile and left.

Left alone with Pan Yueyang, Yan’er grew reticent. With Mubai present, the atmosphere hadn’t felt so awkward, but now, alone with her husband, it did. She lowered her head, fussing with her collar.

Suddenly, Pan Yueyang lifted the bowl and drank the medicine himself in one gulp. Yan’er stared at him in disbelief—was he mad?

In the next moment, Pan Yueyang took hold of her, pressed his mouth to hers, and transferred all the medicine into her mouth.

Unable to breathe and struggling in vain, Yan’er finally resigned herself and swallowed the bitter liquid. As soon as he released her, she clutched her throat, coughing violently.

Pan Yueyang patted her back. "Here, drink a bit of water. It’ll take the bitterness away."

Yan’er gulped down several mouthfuls, feeling better, though the unpleasant taste lingered. "So bitter…"

"Rest well. I’ll go out now." Without another glance, Pan Yueyang turned and left the room.

Watching him leave, Yan’er managed a wry smile. Yueyang, your heart…

In the days that followed, Pan Yueyang persisted in feeding her medicine this way, regardless of whether Yan’er cooperated. In the past, Yan’er would have been overjoyed by such intimacy, taking it as proof of his love. But now, after all that had happened, his actions felt like an act—a way to salvage appearances. Still, she wondered, what right did she have to expect such devotion from a man of his stature? Unable to reason it out, she simply let him do as he wished. She didn’t truly dislike it; in fact, a tiny part of her still felt happiness.

"Yueyang, let me drink it myself…" Yan’er protested when she saw that love-hate bowl of black liquid appear again, quickly covering her mouth with both hands.

"You say you’ll drink it yourself, but just look at you, frowning like a child. Let your husband help you," he teased, gently pulling her hands away. He drank the medicine, then pressed his mouth to hers for the transfer.

Yan’er shut her eyes. The medicine was bitter, but the feeling was sweet. For a moment, she let herself forget how Pan Yueyang had ignored and humiliated her atop the city walls. She couldn’t deny she still cared for him—the love in her heart was not something she could fool herself about, and a faint smile touched her lips.

"Mmm!" Pan Yueyang caught his breath as the medicine was fully transferred. But this little thing was still mischievous—after the medicine, her tongue flicked against his, and when he responded, she bit him.

"Hmph! That’s your punishment." Yan’er, flushed with embarrassment, gathered the quilt around herself.

"You little imp, biting me after I feed you medicine." Pan Yueyang wasn’t angry; he licked his lips, savoring the mark she had left.

"I was too hungry, so… I bit you on purpose," Yan’er said with a grin.

"What does being hungry have to do with biting me?" Pan Yueyang was baffled by her logic.

Yan’er wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Yueyang." She didn’t quite know how to ease the distance she had kept, whether unwittingly or not.

Evidently, Pan Yueyang misunderstood her intent. "Little imp, you really are hungry…" He pressed Yan’er down, showering her with tender kisses—forehead, cheeks, lips—parting her robe with practiced ease…

Instinctively, Yan’er arched her neck, her body taut with anticipation, welcoming him…

In the intimate glow of the tent, only in this moment did the two lovers truly share the primal surges of their passion.

After several days of recuperation, Yan’er’s color returned. Throughout, Pan Yueyang remained by her side, tending to her every need—including, of course, feeding her medicine in person. Just thinking of it made Yan’er blush and her heart race.

After a simple wash, Yan’er stepped out of the tent. The main camp, now safely withdrawn, bustled with its old vitality. Early autumn’s weather was especially refreshing. Yan’er walked slowly around the tents, drawing deep breaths of the cool, crisp air.

"Well, I see you’ve managed to return alive. Looks like you’re in fine health," came a voice behind her. It wasn’t exactly familiar, but not a stranger’s either—it was Mu Qianxue.

Yan’er turned. Sure enough, it was Mu Qianxue. Her attire was not extravagant, yet nothing could hide her regal bearing and innate nobility—always aloof, always above the rest.

"What? You see me and won’t pay your respects?" Mu Qianxue cocked her head, waiting for Yan’er to kneel.

"Why should she pay you respect? You’re a princess of Tianfeng, she’s from Panlong. There’s no reason for such formalities. Besides… your Tianfeng?" Baili Mubai appeared at some point and pulled Yan’er to his side.

"Hmph. It’s only a matter of time," Mu Qianxue snorted, no longer troubling Yan’er. She strutted off like a peacock, head held high.

"Don’t mind her," Baili Mubai said, glaring in Mu Qianxue’s direction.

"Mubai…" Yan’er was feeling much better. "Mubai, what about Yuecheng?" She suddenly remembered that between her days of unconsciousness and her slow recovery, she hadn’t paid attention to anything else. She wondered what had become of Yuecheng since that day.

Baili Mubai smiled faintly. Though his senior brother’s means were… unconventional, the goal had been achieved. "Yuecheng is fine. The city officials were all executed by Guan Canghai. Only the commoners are left. My senior brother is waiting for the court to send new officials to take over."

"Oh," Yan’er replied with a smile. Politics had never interested her. As long as everything was all right and she could return home, she was content. Suddenly, she remembered the young girls locked in the prison. "Mubai, when I was in Yuecheng, I saw many young girls imprisoned together. What happened to them?"

"They most likely didn’t survive," Baili Mubai said, recalling how the dam had burst and floodwaters had engulfed the city. Only those who could run escaped; the old, the weak, women, and children perished. Guan Canghai’s army had abandoned the city early on. Of those Yan’er remembered, locked up in prison, most were surely already dead.

"How cruel Guan Canghai is, to slaughter so many young girls in their prime," Yan’er sighed, still believing the destruction of Yuecheng to be his doing, never suspecting Pan Yueyang.

"Yan’er, don’t dwell on it. Yuecheng is recovering now. Who knows if the rain was good or bad, but at least the skies have cleared," Baili Mubai said, glancing meaningfully at the blue sky.

"Yes, autumn has come in the blink of an eye. The weather is so pleasant," Yan’er replied, gazing at the clear heavens.

"By the way, Yan’er, senior brother’s birthday is coming soon," Baili Mubai added, eyes twinkling. "In this campaign, Panlong came through unscathed—not a single soldier injured. Senior brother truly is remarkable. Only General Gu suffered some minor wounds, but it’s nothing serious. Senior sister has gone to find an antidote. You should think about how you’ll celebrate his birthday."

"Really? His birthday?" Yan’er hadn’t realized Pan Yueyang’s birthday was near. Suddenly, she felt a flutter of excitement.

"Mm-hmm."

"Oh, and about General Gu—I remember when Guan Canghai captured me, he was injured. How is he now?"

"He was poisoned by Guan Canghai, but his life is safe. Senior brother sent men to escort him back to the capital, and senior sister is already on her way to seek the antidote," Mubai said, chewing on a blade of grass he’d plucked from the ground.

"Is it serious?" Yan’er marveled at all that had happened since she’d left and returned.

"Haha, you’d better think about how to celebrate senior brother’s birthday," Baili Mubai said, glancing at a tree. "I’m going to roast some sparrows."

"I’ll come up with something. Mubai, you must help me," Yan’er said, her face aglow with happiness. Perhaps things between her and Yueyang weren’t as hopeless as she’d thought.

"I want roast sparrow! Help me and I’ll help you," Baili Mubai laughed, leaping onto a branch to catch sparrows.

On the other side of the camp, a pair of eyes, full of hatred and confusion, stared fixedly at Yan’er—