Chapter Eighty: Wounded
Lin Miaomiao nodded after hearing this. Jiang Luohan departed in the carriage, and as she watched him leave, Lin Miaomiao turned to Deputy Commander Hu and asked, “Could you tell me about what happened last night?”
Deputy Commander Hu was a rough man. He scratched his head and replied, “It all happened so suddenly.”
“At first, no one noticed anything. Then the general was struck by an arrow, and he fell straight off his horse.”
Lin Miaomiao shivered at his words. Deputy Commander Hu left the room, and Li Yanhe’s injuries had already been tended to.
Lin Miaomiao saw that Li Yanhe had taken an arrow to the chest, and could only imagine the scene—he must have been at death’s door.
Her hands were trembling, and she didn’t know how much time had passed before she regained her composure.
Li Yanhe spent the first day of the fifteenth year of Yongchang bedridden, unconscious for two full days.
On the third day, as Li Yanhe opened his eyes, the first person he saw was Lin Miaomiao.
He felt as if he’d been run over by a wagon, especially at his chest.
Slowly, Li Yanhe sat up, his wound still aching faintly. As he struggled to rise, he startled Lin Miaomiao awake.
Li Yanhe managed a bitter smile at her. Lin Miaomiao handed him medicine from the table, which he took in silence.
After drinking the medicine, Li Yanhe said, “You must have been frightened.”
Lin Miaomiao nodded, then shook her head, replying, “When I saw you covered in blood, I was truly terrified.”
Li Yanhe smiled at her words. Lin Miaomiao stood up and brought in a bowl of chicken soup.
“I had them start cooking this chicken soup early. This is the third pot. The first one, you hadn’t woken up yet.”
“I was afraid it would spoil if left too long, so I had them give it to others.”
“Then I waited in the kitchen for the second pot, but you still didn’t wake, so that, too, went to others.”
“This is the third pot, brewed since last night. Now you’re finally awake—does this count as surviving disaster, and being blessed thereafter?”
Li Yanhe nodded at her words. “I suppose so.”
He said nothing more, drinking the soup down in hearty gulps. Lin Miaomiao told him, “I had Lin Qi and the others bring over the bedding you often use at home.”
Her voice was a little hoarse, and Li Yanhe could clearly hear it. As she spoke of these trivial matters, her voice grew more and more choked.
He watched as the young woman stood there—the more she spoke, the softer her voice became, until only quiet sobs could be heard.
Li Yanhe placed his large hand gently on her head, helplessly smoothing her hair. Lin Miaomiao felt his hand on her head.
She looked up at him and said, “Li Yanhe, I have no family in this world. You are my only family.”
As she finished, tears spilled from her eyes. Li Yanhe’s chest ached, and as he was about to speak, Lin Miaomiao said, “So, could you not die so soon?”
Her voice was fragile, almost desperate in its plea. Li Yanhe replied, “On the battlefield, these things are commonplace.”
Upon hearing this, Lin Miaomiao said nothing, her eyes downcast, and the room fell silent.
When Li Yanhe looked at her again, Lin Miaomiao slowly closed her eyes. He knew she hadn’t rested well in a long time.
After Lin Miaomiao fell asleep, Li Yanhe summoned Lin Qi, who had been waiting outside. “What happened?”
Lin Qi answered, “Master, it seems the young lady sensed something was wrong, so she knocked on my door late at night.”
“I rushed to the barracks and found you wounded. I immediately notified the young lady.”
After finishing, Li Yanhe waved Lin Qi away.
Lin Miaomiao slept soundly, perhaps because Li Yanhe had awakened. She slept without worry.
She didn’t know how Li Yanhe had been injured; as winter approached, the northern nomads began their siege of Da’ankou.
Li Yanhe led his troops to battle. This time, Batu chose to attack in three directions, a strategy Li Yanhe hadn’t anticipated.
He decided to defeat them one by one, but in the final battle against Batu, he was ambushed and thrown from his horse.
In the Dayong Dynasty, with their leader incapacitated, Li Yanhe rose from the ground and shouted, steadying the army’s morale.
Although Li Yanhe’s forces won a great victory, they suffered losses, especially their commander.
For Li Yanhe, such wounds were fatal. He thought he would not survive, but Jiang Luohan proved resourceful.
Sun Ziwen learned of the events at Da’ankou and sent a message by carrier pigeon back to the capital. Emperor Yongchang then learned of the situation in the barracks.
Initially, the emperor was skeptical, but after reading Sun Ziwen’s message, he understood at once.
Soon the news that Prince Shengxuan, Li Yanhe, had been wounded reached Imperial Noble Consort Yuan Chuxia.
She sat lost in thought, and when Emperor Yongchang entered, he saw her eyes red and swollen.
She said nothing, nor did the emperor. The two remained in stalemate.
After a long silence, Emperor Yongchang spoke: “Second son—on the battlefield, these things are normal, so you need not worry.”
Yuan Chuxia looked at him and replied, “I don’t know what it’s like on the battlefield, but if someone threatens my son, how can I, as his mother, remain indifferent?”
The emperor hadn’t expected her to speak so bluntly. She turned and left.
He had never seen Yuan Chuxia behave this way before. Frowning, he went to court the next day.
In the imperial hall, he saw a soldier kneeling before him. The emperor asked those who had come from the border, “Who is he?”
Deputy Commander Hu knelt and cried out, “Your Majesty, this is the soldier who attacked the general.”
He added, “This soldier is neither a spy nor a barbarian from the south.”
The emperor replied, “I understand. Investigate thoroughly.”
After the morning court, the emperor was enraged. With Li Yanhe’s fate uncertain, this was the second such incident.
He sat on his dragon throne, glancing at the princes assembled in the Golden Hall, and left with a cold sneer.
The princes watched as he departed, each with their own thoughts.
Lin Miaomiao, just awakened, had no idea that news of Li Yanhe’s assassination attempt had already stirred the capital.
After waking, she looked at Li Yanhe and frowned, saying, “Why are you up? Your wounds haven’t healed yet, what are you doing?”
Li Yanhe, seeing her expression, laughed and said, “For someone so young, you worry about me already.”
Lin Miaomiao rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.
After she rolled her eyes, Li Yanhe shook his head, amused. “That expression of yours—it’s really…”
He didn’t finish, but his smile was beautiful. Lin Miaomiao saw it and was momentarily mesmerized.
She stared at him, entranced by his striking looks, until her stomach rumbled audibly.
Her face reddened, and she said to Li Yanhe, “It’s not a stomachache—I’m just hungry.”
No sooner had she explained, her stomach growled again, making her blush even deeper.
She wished she could slap herself—why bother explaining? The more she thought about food, the hungrier she became.
Li Yanhe laughed aloud. Lin Miaomiao blushed; she had never seen him smile so gently.
She gazed at him, almost dazed. Because she was in Li Yanhe’s tent, she enjoyed the benefit of eating bird’s nest from the imperial palace.
Lin Miaomiao ate cheerfully, savoring every bite. She looked up and asked, “This tastes so good—what is it?”
Li Yanhe answered, “Blood-red bird’s nest.”
Lin Miaomiao was stunned—was this the legendary bird’s nest?
She had eaten bird’s nest in the modern world, thinking it was authentic, and even boasted about it to her friends.
But when she traveled to Thailand, she found those nests were farmed, and their nutritional value was far inferior to wild nests.
Suddenly, she no longer gobbled it down, but nibbled carefully, realizing such a precious thing shouldn’t be consumed carelessly.
Li Yanhe watched as she became cautious with her food and found it amusing. “If you want more, my estate has plenty.”
Hearing his generous words, Lin Miaomiao wondered if she had met a true tycoon.
Li Yanhe thought for a moment. “I don’t care much for it. If you like it, you can have a bowl every day.”
Lin Miaomiao was speechless. Was it really okay to be so extravagant?
She recalled scenes from palace dramas, where the consorts had a bowl of bird’s nest every day, and tentatively asked, “Isn’t it only the palace ladies who can have bird’s nest every day?”
Li Yanhe replied, “Not at all—there isn’t enough wealth to provide it for all those women.”
“The reason I have so much is because I’ve earned great merit over the years. The emperor rewards me with bird’s nest every year.”