YOU DARE CALL THAT MEDICINE
Zhao Manor — Longevity Peace Hall — Night
The heat was eating me.
Inner thought: My blood is boiling. My skin doesn't fit. Every breath pulls 'want' into my lungs. Want what? Want who? Want... him.
CǎiYún was crying, wringing a cloth. It hit my forehead and hissed. Actually hissed. "Lady... Lady you're too hot..."
I know. I'm cooking. From the inside.
The door didn't open. It got destroyed.
Imperial Noble Consort Sū MěiYán, 35, my aunt, Moon Alliance, her father owns the northern border, stepped through like the door insulted her.
No guards. No eunuchs. She doesn't travel with people. People travel with her.
She saw me. On the bed. Thin robe sticking to skin. Shaking. Sweating. Eyes not right. Not JiāYì. Something else wearing my face.
Her face didn't change. Not a flicker. That's how I knew it was bad. Aunt only goes blank before she draws blood.
She walked to the table. Slow. Each step measured. Like she was counting how many people she'd kill.
Picked up the cup. MěiLíng's cup. Half a cup of 'Fox Charm Draught' dried on the rim.
Sniffed it. Once.
Put it down. Careful. Like it was a snake.
Then she looked at the Imperial Physician. Old man. Kneeling. Shaking worse than me.
"What," she said. One word. No title. No 'physician.' What.
He flinched. "Replying to Niangniang... Hú Mèi Yǐn. Fox Charm Draught. Southern tribes. Banned. One drop... to make a widow... this was half a cup, Niangniang—"
"How long," she said. Cut him off. Didn't care about names. Only time. Only death.
"...Six hours for antidote, Niangniang. But the fever... by dawn... if untreated... the meridians... she'll go mad. Or..."
"Say it," the Empress Dowager said. From the window. Dry. Like we were discussing rain.
The physician pressed his forehead to the floor. "...Or die, Niangniang."
Silence.
My aunt turned to me. Finally. And her eyes...
They weren't blank anymore.
They were my mother's. Right before she drank poison for me. Right before she said 'live.'
"JiāYì," she said. My name. Soft. No one's said it soft since Mother.
I tried to answer. My tongue was thick. 'Aunt' came out 'Ahh...'
Shame hit. Hotter than the drug. I'm sixteen. I'm Su. I don't moan. I don't...
My aunt knelt. On the floor. In imperial yellow. For me. Again.
She touched my face. Her hand was cold. God, it was cold. I chased it. Like a plant to sun. Hated myself for it.
"She's burning," my aunt said. Not to me. To the room. To the physician. To the gods.
Then she stood. Slow. Every inch a general.
Faced the physician. He didn't look up. Smart man.
"Your medicine," she said. Voice quiet. That was worst. Quiet Su means someone's getting buried. "Is 'she needs a man.'"
It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
The physician nodded. Miserable. 'The texts say... for Fox Charm... the heat needs... to be... vented... with...'
"With rape," my aunt finished. Loud. Clean. So the whole palace heard. "That's your cure. Rape a sixteen-year-old girl while she's out of her mind. Call it medicine. Call it duty."
The room froze. Even the Empress Dowager stopped breathing.
Inner thought: Aunt... Aunt, no. Don't. If you say that, they'll...
"You dare," my aunt said. Taking one step toward the physician. He scrambled back. Hit the wall. "You dare stand in my sister's house. Look at her daughter. And prescribe that?"
She wasn't shouting. She didn't need to. The words were knives.
"ARE YOU ASKING FOR DEATH?" she said. Finally. Finally it came out. Not a roar. A fact. Like 'the sun sets.' Like 'you're dead already.'
The physician was sobbing. 'Niangniang, I— the ancient texts—'
"Ancient texts," my aunt said. And she laughed. One sound. Ugly. 'My father burned those texts when they said women were fields to plow.'
She turned. To the Empress Dowager.
"You," she said. No title. No respect. Equal to equal. Su to Zhao. "You've been alive seventy years. You've seen this drug. You've seen what it does. Is that your answer too? 'Find her a man'?"
The Empress Dowager tilted her head. 'Interesting.' Not answering. Never answering. Only watching.
My aunt looked at me. Then back at the physician. Then at the door.
"Where is he," she said. Not a question. A summons.
Like the world owed her an answer.
And the world paid.
The door opened.
Zhào LìXūn.
He'd been outside. He'd heard. 'Needs a man.'
His face was... wrecked. Sun with clouds. Hope and horror.
"Aunt," he said. Bow. Fast. Shaking. "I... I'll do it. I'll take responsibility. She took it for me. I'll... I'll marry her. Now. Tonight. I'll—"
"Marry her," my aunt said. Like the words tasted like poison. "While she's like this? While she can't say yes? While she'd say yes to anyone? Is that your 'kindness'? Is that what the Eastern Palace calls 'love'?"
LìXūn flinched. Every word hit. Because they were true. And he knew it.
"I... I love her," LìXūn whispered. Last defense. Weakest one.
"Love," my aunt said. And she stepped toward him. He didn't back up. I'll give him that. "Love is why you don't touch her tonight. Love is why you leave this room. Love is why you find another way. Or are you just a boy with a crown who wants what's burning?"
LìXūn broke. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I just—'
"Enough."
One word. Not loud. From the doorway.
Chányán.
He'd been there. Whole time. Leaning on the frame. Like a shadow. Like judgment.
His eyes weren't on me. They were on LìXūn. And they were...
Disappointed.
"Cousin," Chányán said. Flat. No heat. No cold. Just... flat. "You will leave. Now."
LìXūn looked at him. Begging. 'Help her. Please. You're smarter.'
"Now," Chányán said. Still flat. But the air... got heavy.
YìChén was there. Hand on LìXūn's arm. 'Cousin. Come.'
LìXūn went. But he looked back. Once. At me. 'I'm sorry.' With his eyes.
Door shut.
Silence.
My aunt looked at Chányán. Up. Down. Measuring. 'You. Regent Prince. You got a better idea? Or are you just here to watch my niece die?'
Chányán didn't answer her.
He walked to me. Past my aunt. Past the Empress Dowager. Past the physician.
Two steps. One step. No steps.
He knelt. One knee. By the bed. Like last time. Like always.
And he looked at me. Not at the fever. Not at the drug. At me.
"JiāYì," he said. Quiet. Just for me. "Can you hear me?"
I nodded. Tears came. I couldn't stop them. They were hot. Everything was hot.
"Good," he said. Same word my aunt used. But his... his was relief. "I need you to listen. Can you do that?"
I nodded again. Couldn't speak. If I spoke, it would be 'please' or 'help' or 'you.'
"The physician is half-right," Chányán said. Flat. Fact. Like 'the sky is blue.' "The drug needs release. Heat needs cold. But not... that."
He paused. Swallowed. Like the next words hurt.
"Ice baths," he said. "Acupuncture. Sealed meridians. Force the heat out. Through pain. Through will."
The physician gasped. 'But the pain... Regent Prince, few survive the process. Most beg for death before—'
"She's not 'most,'" my aunt cut in. Loud. Vicious. Proud. "She's Su."
She looked at me. 'You hear me? You're Su. We don't die. We don't break.'
But her eyes... her eyes were scared. Because she knew. Su can die. Su can break. Aunt just won't say it.
Chányán held out his hand. Not to touch. Palm up. Waiting.
"Do you trust me," he said. Not 'do you want this.' Not 'are you scared.' Do. You. Trust. Me.
Inner thought: Yes. Yes. Yes. You said 'no' when I was begging. You dumped water on me. You said 'she's mine' to the court and then... then didn't touch me. You chose 'fair' over 'want.'
I trust you.
I put my hand in his. It was furnace to ice. Ice to furnace. Shock. Anchor.
His fingers closed. Not hard. Not soft. Promise.
"YìChén," Chányán said. Not looking away from me. Not once. "Ice. Needles. Now."
YìChén nodded. Gone. Running.
"Empress Dowager," Chányán said. Still not looking away. "I'll need your room. Your bath. Your... silence."
The Empress Dowager smiled. Buddha smile. 'So. That's how it is.'
"Take it," she said. And she stood. To my aunt. "Sū MěiYán. Walk with me. Let the men... work."
'Men.' Plural. But she looked at Chányán. Only at Chányán.
My aunt looked at me. At my hand in Chányán's. At his face. At the way he hadn't let go.
Then she looked at the Empress Dowager. And nodded. 'Fine. But if she screams, I come back. And if she dies, I start with the physician. Then the palace. Then the world.'
They left.
Door shut.
It was just us. Again. Him. Me. The heat. The ice.
Chányán let go of my hand. Stood.
Two steps. Wall. Winter. Back.
"The ice will hurt," he said. Voice flat again. Wall again. Safe again. "Worse than the heat. You'll hate me. Before it's over."
Inner thought: I could never hate you. You said 'no' to me when I was begging. That's... that's love. Isn't it? Cruel, stupid love.
"I know," I said. Voice scraped. From heat. From tears. From... "I know."
He looked at me. One last time. Before the door opened. Before YìChén came back with ice. Before the pain started.
And his eyes... they weren't winter. They weren't wall.
They were...
Sorry.
Sorry for what he was about to do. Sorry for what he couldn't do.
Sorry for me.
The door opened.
YìChén. With ice. With needles. With fear on his face.
"Ge," YìChén said. *Quiet. Scared. 'Brother.' "Are you... are you sure? This... this could..."*
"Start," Chányán said. And he turned away. To the window. To the night. So he wouldn't have to watch.
But I knew. He'd hear. Every sound I made. Every breath. Every...
Every time I said his name.