Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 48
48
The wind lifted the curtain, and outside, the Fifth Prince and the physician were still discussing the condition. Words tinged with concern drifted through the carved, arched doorway, reaching the rosewood bed.
The mischievous person held Jiang Ciqing’s hand tightly, refusing to let go. Their ruby-like eyes glinted with a childish wickedness, clearly intent on teasing her.
Jiang Ciqing, with her thin skin and fair complexion, would easily flush at the slightest hint of embarrassment, her earlobes turning red as if dripping with bl00d. Fortunately, in her haste to leave, she had forgotten to tie up her long hair, allowing her dark locks to conceal the telltale blush.
Though it was only a fleeting kiss on the cheek, Jiang Ciqing, the head of the Jiang family, was still a traditionalist at heart, raised amidst poetry and propriety. With others just beyond the room…
Her dark eyes darted nervously to the side, like a guilty puppy caught in the act, anxiously peeking around. Yet, she was unaware that the metaphorical tail wagging rapidly behind her had already betrayed her completely.
Only after confirming that the two outside hadn’t noticed did she quietly let out a sigh of relief. Her peripheral vision lingered on them, her spine taut, her entire body in a state of high tension.
To an outsider, one might think she was a thief who had climbed over the wall, about to be caught in the act.
Her heart pounded like thunder.
Xu Fusheng, sprawled on the bed, merely chuckled, her peach-blossom eyes shimmering with playful amusement, as if she weren’t the one involved, utterly unafraid of being discovered.
Seeing her antics, Jiang Ciqing felt a mix of anger and embarrassment. If not for the others present, she would have surely scolded her for deserving it.
She tried to pull her hand back, but the other gripped it even tighter. When Jiang Ciqing tugged harder, Xu Fusheng winced as if in pain, her left shoulder wrapped in bl00d-stained bandages that looked ready to be soaked through.
Jiang Ciqing seemed to feel the pain more acutely than Xu Fusheng did, her lips tightly pressed together. She didn’t dare pull too hard and instead tried to pry Xu Fusheng’s fingers loose, only for the other to grip her hand even more firmly.
It was a contest of who was bolder, who was more shameless.
Clearly, Jiang Ciqing was thoroughly defeated.
She truly couldn’t compete with this person, who dared to risk her life to shield Liang Ji from a bullet.
Their intertwined palms grew sweaty, binding their hands even closer together.
Outside, the physician was now discussing dietary restrictions and recommended foods.
Jiang Ciqing paid close attention, mentally noting every precaution mentioned.
Xu Fusheng, meanwhile, grinned at her, ignoring the fact that Jiang Ciqing was focused on something important. Her pinky traced across Jiang Ciqing’s palm, sending a ticklish sensation through her.
She demanded all of Jiang Ciqing’s attention, refusing to let her focus elsewhere.
Shameless and domineering.
It seemed like she was drawing a number. Jiang Ciqing, too distracted to decipher it, glared at her in warning to stop fooling around.
The conversation outside suddenly paused, and Jiang Ciqing hurriedly tried to pull her hand back. But Xu Fusheng, now energized, refused to let go.
Jiang Ciqing had no choice but to tug her wide sleeve forward to cover their hands. Fortunately, with Xu Fusheng lying by the bed and the cover of the bedding and her sleeve, nothing seemed amiss.
Footsteps drew closer.
Jiang Ciqing put on a stern face, forcing a facade of cold indifference, her straight posture resembling a bamboo stalk unyielding in a snowy storm.
The person on the bed closed her eyes, her expression composed, showing no trace of her earlier teasing.
The Fifth Prince, finally free from the physician, strode in. His gaze first landed on Xu Fusheng before quickly shifting away to Jiang Ciqing’s increasingly frosty expression. His heart sank, thinking their relationship had deteriorated to such an extent.
Even with Xu Fusheng so gravely injured and unconscious, Jiang Ciqing still wore a cold expression. If not for the slight overlap of her sleeve resting on the bed’s edge, he might have thought she was here to wait for Xu Fusheng to wake up just to deliver a final blow.
But then he reconsidered. If their relationship was so strained, why would Jiang Ciqing still come to visit Xu Fusheng on his behalf? Didn’t that mean he held a significant place in her heart?
His smile widened. He approached Jiang Ciqing quietly and said in a low voice, “Teacher.”
Jiang Ciqing nodded slightly, her eyes as calm and still as a frozen pond.
“The physician just said she took some sedative medicine and is likely asleep now,” he added.
Jiang Ciqing nodded again, her demeanor suggesting she was merely listening because the Fifth Prince was speaking, as if it had nothing to do with her.
Secretly, she curled her fingers, while the other, taking advantage of not having to deal with anyone else, continued her mischief. Xu Fusheng’s fingertip scribbled in Jiang Ciqing’s palm—first writing “Ci,” then, finding it too complex, erasing it with vigorous strokes before haphazardly drawing numbers.
Due to years of wielding a hammer, Jiang Ciqing’s palm was thicker and rougher than most, covered in calluses. What should have been a sensitive area was dulled, so the sensation of each stroke registered slowly, lingering even after Xu Fusheng moved on to the next.
The slow, lingering itch turned her palm into a chaotic scribble, covered in ticklish sensations that were maddeningly unbearable. Yet Xu Fusheng continued, intensifying the feeling.
Jiang Ciqing tried to pull away, curling her fingers to close her hand.
Xu Fusheng noticed immediately and firmly pressed her fingers flat, refusing to let her escape even in this small matter, as domineering as ever.
The unbearable itch felt like a thousand ants crawling across her palm.
Jiang Ciqing’s frown deepened.
The Fifth Prince, observing her, grew increasingly hesitant to speak. He wondered what Xu Fusheng could have done to someone as good-natured as Jiang Ciqing to provoke such disdain, to the point that even hearing the physician’s instructions seemed to irritate her.
With an awkward smile, he asked, “Since she’s asleep, shall we take our leave to avoid disturbing her rest?”
“That’s fine,” Jiang Ciqing nodded. She shifted her foot back to stand, but the “sleeping” person suddenly gripped her wrist tightly, causing her to stumble back onto the wooden stool.
Her expression froze, and she restrained herself from glaring, gently tugging her arm to warn Xu Fusheng to stop.
But Xu Fusheng, emboldened, tightened her grip, her thumb and forefinger clamping around Jiang Ciqing’s wrist like a vise.
“Teacher?” The Fifth Prince looked puzzled, not understanding why she had suddenly fallen back.
“I’ve been sitting too long; my legs are a bit numb,” Jiang Ciqing explained calmly, her expression as cool and distant as ever.
How long had it even been?
Liang Anmu gained a new understanding of Jiang Ciqing’s frail health and offered comfortingly, “That physician was quite long-winded, delaying us for quite a while.”
Feeling the grip on her wrist loosen slightly, with cool fingertips brushing her skin, Jiang Ciqing seized the moment to stand.
But Xu Fusheng had already shifted her target. Her fingers hooked the red cord around Jiang Ciqing’s wrist, and with the momentum of her standing, she deftly slipped the bracelet off.
The rough cord grazed the back of Jiang Ciqing’s hand. Standing now, she knew exactly what Xu Fusheng had done. A mix of exasperation and amusement flashed across her face—she thought this person’s pettiness was as predictable as ever, likely having coveted the bracelet for who knows how long, only now finding the chance to snatch it.
“Let’s go,” Jiang Ciqing said, casually brushing her robe to smooth the wrinkles, her hand grazing her wrist as if by accident before standing tall again.
Her hand, hidden under the wide sleeve, clenched into a fist, still unable to quell the lingering itch.
Liang Anmu, seeing her increasingly grim expression, didn’t dare object, fearing she might turn and stab the person on the bed in a fit of anger. He quickly turned and strode out of the room.
Jiang Ciqing followed a step behind. As she opened the door, a gust of wind rushed in, lifting the hair by her ears, revealing earlobes still faintly red. She glanced back unintentionally.
The person leaning on the bed’s edge looked at her, her beautiful peach-blossom eyes brimming with triumph, winking slyly as if reminding her not to forget their earlier agreement.
Jiang Ciqing turned away, stepping over the threshold, her red robe billowing like the most vibrant hue of spring.
The night was deep, with layers of clouds obscuring the cold crescent moon. A steady drizzle washed over the city, and in the quiet, the distant wail of a zither and the faint splash of fish in a pond could be heard. The night breeze rustled through the grass, producing a soft “shasha” sound, like the murmurs of the night.
In a deserted alley, someone approached under an oil-paper umbrella, their steps breaking the puddles and splashing mud onto their pant legs. Their slightly long black hair draped over their shoulders, and their dark eyes were calm and luminous, like long-forgotten stars.
Though dressed in white, they didn’t seem mournful but rather ethereal, like an immortal. The hem of their robe bore delicate bamboo patterns, and a jade pendant at their waist clinked softly.
Before they drew near, a waiting servant pushed open the back gate.
Xu Fusheng must have given specific instructions. This mansion was unlike the small courtyard from before—if Jiang Ciqing tried climbing the wall, she’d spend all night lost. The front gate was always watched, making it inconvenient, so the back gate was the only option.
The servant waiting behind the gate was one of Xu Fusheng’s trusted confidants. After closing the gate, they called out softly, “Lord Eleven.”
Hearing this title after so long, Jiang Ciqing froze, not reacting immediately. She pressed her lips together and gave a slight nod in response.
The servant didn’t mind and hurriedly lit a small lantern, leading Jiang Ciqing toward the inner courtyard while saying, “At sunset, the master had a fever. The physician just prepared medicine, and she’s taken it. Lord Eleven, please be careful and attend to her well.”
Passing through a moon gate, they entered the mansion’s garden. Spring flowers bloomed vibrantly, and a cherry tree’s slender branches swayed in the wind and rain, threatening to brush against passersby.
The servant quickly reached out to lift the cherry branches, holding them until Jiang Ciqing passed.
Jiang Ciqing didn’t thank them, her gaze distant and unfocused, as if she’d been transported back to the past, to the wild lands.
As she grew closer to Xu Fusheng, the mansion’s people stopped calling her simply “Eleven,” adding the respectful “Lord” to her title. They no longer ordered her around, but their hearts still held disdain, viewing her as a mere dog who had luckily gained the master’s favor. They’d glance at the collar around her neck and smirk behind lowered eyes.
Perhaps only an Alpha like her would willingly be someone’s dog.
The courtyard was filled with the fragrance of flowers, tempered by the fresh scent of rain and earth, making it neither cloying nor heavy but rather cool and serene, sending a shiver down one’s spine.
Jiang Ciqing suddenly felt she shouldn’t have changed her clothes. After all, Xu Fusheng loved seeing her in red robes.
Back in the wild lands, every time Xu Fusheng saw her in red, she’d offer a word or two of praise or reward her with gifts. When Eleven avoided wearing red a couple of times because she found it too bold, Xu Fusheng threw out all her other clothes, leaving only red ones, forcing her to wear them.
Always so domineering.
Just like when she drew numbers in her palm—if Jiang Ciqing didn’t respond, Xu Fusheng would persist, scratching until her palm itched unbearably.
“Here we are, Lord Eleven,” the servant said, pushing open the door and stepping aside with a bow.
Jiang Ciqing paused for a moment before stepping inside.