Chapter 38: Princess Xiang’an Part 2

It was honest enough. Xun Changqing knew about clashing herbs. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Just the pulse—can that reveal the injury?”

The County Princess relenting was good news. Defying great houses was perilous, but the generous fee had lured him here. “Yes, my skills are adequate. Have me try, County Princess.”

Wei Lingci hadn’t expected Xun Changqing to actually summon a physician. Lying on the couch, her mind foggy, she shook her head in refusal.

Xun Changqing kept a calm face, but worry gnawed inside. After staring for a long while, she said, “I know you’ve applied medicine, but you know your injury better than anyone. If not handled properly, it could leave sequelae—weak arm, unsteady sword grip. That’s your loss.”

In Wei Lingci’s eyes, Xun Changqing’s expression was stubbornly resolute: Your matters are none of my concern. Your recovery means nothing to me!

She met Xun Changqing’s gaze, lips pressing together. After hesitating, her voice came out much weaker than during the day. “Then can you handle the aftermath properly?”

“Yes!” Xun Changqing blurted, then softened her tone, embarrassed by her eagerness. “I’ve arranged everything. It won’t cause you trouble.”

“Changqing, it’s not about trouble for me. What you’re doing now brings trouble to yourself and the entire Prince’s Mansion. If schemers notice, you’ll be mired in mud, beyond rescue. Even His Majesty might not protect you then.”

Lately, Wei Lingci’s words always circled court affairs. Xun Changqing understood, both reborn and seeing through the intrigues. But differing was her uncertainty about Wei Lingci’s feelings this life.

Utter loathing last life—why had it vanished so quickly?

If Wei Lingci disliked her, why do all this?

She wanted to ask outright, but the words stuck. The fake assassination alone—Wei Lingci nearly died by Yuan Qingming’s hand—should earn trust.

Yet visions of Purple Ying Pavilion from her past life haunted her: Wei Lingci watching indifferently. She wanted to forget but couldn’t.

Such thoughts made her expression unnatural. She murmured assent and turned to fetch the physician.

Wei Lingci smiled faintly, saying nothing. That girl was so endearing when tsundere. Clearly, she had fallen first last life; now Xun Changqing retreated.

Dressing as a man was just to keep distance. Without the Princess Consort’s revelation, even Wei Lingci might have been fooled—a wasted life.

If Changqing had been firmer then, refusing apprenticeship, she’d have worried how to take her from the capital. But she hadn’t refused. Perhaps some old affections lingered—emotions were uncontrollable.

The physician couldn’t see the person on the bed, only a delicate, lotus-root-white wrist. Beside her stood the Young County Princess—no, Princess Xiang’an now. Watched so intently, he felt uneasy but gritted his teeth and took the pulse.

Moments later, he withdrew. “This lady has both internal and external injuries. I’ll prescribe accordingly. Keep the wound dry for days and rest well.”

Such ferocity from Yuan Qingming without internal injury would be the oddity.

After prescribing, Xun Changqing had someone pay the fee but stopped him in the corridor.

The sunset glow added vivid color to the courtyard. Xun Changqing stood there, backlighted magnificently, though her eyes held rare iciness.

She smiled faintly. “Physician, why leave so early? My patient can’t do without you. Stay in the mansion a few days until she’s better. Whatever you want, I can provide. Your shop will manage without you briefly.”

He’d known this trip was risky. Commoners dared not fight officials, let alone royals—silencing was common. Staying a few days showed mercy.

The young physician paled, the silver burning in his pocket. He nearly returned it, sweat beading as his legs trembled. He dropped to his knees before the County Princess, nodding frantically.

…

That night, stars were faint, dimmer than last. The quiet darkness contrasted with the unusual bustle at Right Chancellor Shao Cheng’s mansion.

This was an enviable estate, the Empress’s maternal home. The Shao Mansion was a century-old noble house at the peak of power this dynasty.

Night meant rest for most, but here lights blazed. The Second Imperial Prince, Xun Yiran, had arrived.

The day’s events were too sudden—from assassination to edict elevating Xun Changqing. He’d been kept in the dark and still didn’t understand.

Why did the Shao Family try to kill Xun Changqing?

Why did Father Emperor reward her?

He sat in the study, glaring coldly at his uncle. “Right Chancellor, did you consult me before killing? Even if killing, avoid Yuan Qingming—his skills you know better than I. You courted trouble. Now Father feels guilty, rewards Xun Changqing, clears Xun Yi further. You failed to steal the chicken and lost rice instead—utter folly.”

Such scolding humiliated Shao Cheng, but as prince, Xun Yiran outranked. He swallowed his anger. “Your Highness, it wasn’t me who sent the assassin. I only learned this morning Xun Changqing returned.”

Xun Yiran shot up, eyes icy. “Not you? Then Shao Tang’s words at First Tower last night—so many noble heirs present. Think them deaf and blind? Father already eyes me warily; you try to frame me unjustly?”

Rumors spread fast. Shao Tang couldn’t pinpoint the leak, and today’s mess made him irredeemable—pure bad luck.

Yet he stepped forward. “Your Highness, what do you fear? His Majesty has only you. The Fourth Prince is a fool; even Xun Yi can’t match you. He won’t give the throne to Xun Yi. Just a princess title—Rear Palace has plenty more.”

A candle crackled in the study, startling Shao Cheng’s heart. He signaled his son to shut up, but Shao Tang finished.

Xun Yiran’s face darkened terribly; his eyes might have shot daggers, killing Shao Tang. The culprit still blabbered. This cousin dragged him down.

“Your Highness, I spoke truth. You can…” Before finishing, Xun Yiran slapped him, sending Shao Tang reeling into his father’s feet. “You dare hit me…”

Xun Yiran, furious, kicked. “Utter bastard! Know you what ‘Xiang’an’ means?”

The kick missed; Shao Tang dodged, hid behind Shao Cheng, clutching his slapped cheek. “How should I know? Just two words—what’s the fuss?”

“Waste!” Xun Yiran snarled, raising his foot again, but Shao Cheng blocked. Uncle or not, some face due. He straightened his robes, anger ebbing. “Whether yours or not, inform me next time—no more rashness. Father knows Shao Tang spread the rumor. Clean your own mess; I won’t.”

He stormed out, heedless of linked fates.

Shao Tang emerged, rubbing his face, spitting bloody saliva—teeth nearly gone. Seeing his father’s ashen face, “Father, without us Shao Family, where’s his prestige? Without you killing the Third Prince, removing a rival, he’d be exiled by His Majesty. Still so arrogant—pah!”

Shao Cheng eyed his legitimate son with a look of hating iron for not becoming steel, raising a hand to slap again. “Spouting this openly? Think Father longs for death?”

Shao Tang realized his slip, clamping shut.

But Shao Cheng’s worries stirred. Xun Yiran was ruthless, distrustful. He’d explained it wasn’t the Shao Family, yet Xun Yiran insisted. Too suspicious—far worse than the Emperor.