Waking Up

As soon as the carriage came to a steady halt at the entrance of the Zhenbei Marquis Manor, Jiang Xun stepped down.

Xue Jin had no choice but to follow behind: "Hey, hey, wait a moment! Let me lead the way for you—"

They bypassed the garden featuring a rockery and a pond, arriving at the front of Shen Que's courtyard. Before Jiang Xun even walked in, he heard a muffled, continuous coughing.

The owner of the voice tried his best to suppress the coughing, keeping it muffled in his throat. It wasn't until he couldn't hold it back any longer that a few intermittent sounds escaped from between his lips and teeth.

Jiang Xun stopped in front of the garden, looking through the door from a corner of the garden.

Through a thin layer of green gauze window paper, he could faintly see Shen Que's silhouette. The Imperial Tutor, whose back was usually straight, was slightly hunched over. His hand was clenched into a fist against his jaw, as if he could hardly bear the pain in his chest and abdomen.

But he was still holding a brush.

Jiang Xun saw the piles of memorials stacked in front of him. Among them were correspondences sent from various mountain passes, movements of the Northern Di army, and preparation matters for rations and logistics. Those memorials were stacked so high that when Shen Que bent over coughing, it looked as though they would bury him completely.

Jiang Xun asked softly, "How long has he been like this?"

Xue Jin: "Master Shen and Shen Xiu contracted the illness at the same time. By my calculations, it's been about ten days. It's just that Shen Xiu's flare-up was severe, and he immediately lost consciousness. Master Shen's condition was milder, but recently he has also been coughing up blood frequently."

He guided Jiang Xun through the deep and winding garden corridor, stopping in front of Shen Que's door.

Jiang Xun lagged ten steps behind Xue Jin. Xue Jin raised his hand first and knocked on the door, asking, "Master Shen? It's Xue Jin, may I come in?"

"...Come in." Shen Que adjusted his voice, instantly returning to his clear and gentle state. He looked at Xue Jin with a smile. "Since you've already returned, how is Master Wu? Did you remind him to bathe and change his clothes, and to change out his veiled hat and robe completely? Also, his shoes and socks must all be changed... Cough, cough, cough..."

His hoarse, dry, and painful throat couldn't adapt to speaking for a long time. Before he could finish, he covered his lips and began to cough.

Xue Jin was momentarily stunned: "Master Xun, he..."

Master Xun hurried over here the moment he got off the carriage, where would he have had the time to bathe and change clothes?

Jiang Xun had the System, so contagious materials wouldn't stick to his clothes, thus he didn't change and wash them.

Shen Que coughed more and more intensely. The elegance and composure he had previously feigned in front of Jiang Xun were gone; at this moment, the hair at his temples was messy, and there was sweat on his forehead. He forcefully supported himself against the desk with one hand, his fingertips turning pale with exertion—he could be described as utterly miserable.

But even so, Shen Que still had to say: "Master Wu came in a hurry and might not have brought enough luggage, especially small items like shoes and socks. See if anything is lacking, and replace them all with the best ones."

He was coughing so badly that Xue Jin reached out to support him, whispering: "Say a few words less. Why do you care so much about Master Wu? You should care about yourself first. Is Master Wu your relative? I didn't even see you this nervous about Shen Xiu."

Shen Que froze for a moment, then smiled: "...Perhaps, perhaps it's because there's an epidemic right now, and having a doctor is very important."

As he spoke, he leaned over and started coughing again.

Xue Jin wiped his mouth with a handkerchief: "You're coughing up blood again. I'll go call Master Xun to examine you."

"No need," Shen Que interrupted. "Let him go bathe and change his clothes first. I'll finish reading these documents first, the rest isn't urgent—cough, cough—also, that piece of green jade at his waist must also be boiled in hot water before it can be worn again..."

Jiang Xun stood in the shadows behind the door, listening to Shen Que babble on. Yet it was all complex and trivial stuff that had nothing to do with his own condition. For no reason, a fire flared up in his heart. Something burned intensely in his lungs, making his subsequent movements irritable.

Jiang Xun lifted the hem of his clothes and stepped over the threshold. His medicine box collided with the door frame, emitting a loud bang.

Shen Que raised his eyes in astonishment.

He looked at Jiang Xun, and his tightly furrowed brow relaxed for a moment. But when his gaze swept over him, his eyebrows knitted tightly once again.

Shen Que said disapprovingly, "Master Wu, this epidemic is fierce and must not be treated lightly, nor should you be careless. Returning from the plague camp, you must bathe and change clothes first, and put on clean attire."

"..."

It vaguely resembled the tone Shen Que used to reprimand his students at Hongwen Pavilion back in the day.

Jiang Xun thought to himself, 'You're sick to this extent, yet you still have the energy to lecture me?'

He dropped the medicine box heavily onto the desk with a smack, intentionally arguing with Shen Que: "If I change clothes before coming to see you, wouldn't I be in contact with a patient again right after getting clean, only to have to bathe a second time? Isn't this process too tedious?"

This time, Shen Que paused for a long while again.

The usually eloquent Imperial Tutor opened his mouth and looked at Jiang Xun, actually rendered speechless.

The fire in Jiang Xun's heart burned even fiercer. He read the subtext in Shen Que's expression, which was roughly: 'This illness isn't that important; I won't die anyway. Let me finish reading the memorials first; treating it tomorrow won't be too late.'

Jiang Xun then silently sorted through his medicine box, thinking to himself, 'Truly the exact same temper across two lifetimes. This person only has the country in his heart; everything else is dead to him.'

He could already deduce Shen Que's thoughts: the Imperial Tutor, for the sake of the country and its people, would rather drag his sick body along than let the important doctor—that is, Master Xun—come into contact with more sources of infection. He even ordered people to treat him well with good food and drink, deeply afraid that the doctor would fall ill or run away before the great war.

Jiang Xun pulled a pulse pillow out of the medicine box and placed it on the desk: "Master Shen, please place your hand here."

He was quite unhappy, and his tone was somewhat eccentric. Shen Que helplessly curled his fingers, showing a slightly dejected expression. He then laid his wrist flat and lowered his eyes, saying, "...Excuse the trouble."

Jiang Xun put on a show of placing his hand on him, pressing his fingertips against Shen Que's wrist, assuming an expression of deep thought.

Shen Que was running a fever.

His body temperature was elevated, while Jiang Xun's fingertips were slightly cold. The sovereign's entire body was shrouded in the veiled hat, only revealing a bit of his fingers, which were pressing exactly on his wrist.

A sick person is sensitive to temperature. The moment the cold fingers touched his skin, Shen Que broke out in goosebumps.

Not knowing what he had thought of, he actually turned his face away, not daring to look any longer.

System 55 had scanned an entire camp and was now a very experienced little system. It rapidly analyzed the data and gave a conclusion: "It's not particularly severe. Bring over Shen Xiu's prescription, modify it a bit, and it'll be usable. Just make him pay attention to resting and stop working for a while."

Jiang Xun thought to himself, 'I have to be able to persuade him first.'

To make Shen Que stop working—what a massive undertaking that would be.

Jiang Xun relayed System 55's prescription to Xue Jin, telling him to go down and boil the medicine. Then, Jiang Xun's gaze swept over the mountain-like pile of documents. He hesitated for a moment: "If Master Shen trusts me, I can help process some of the documents."

As he said that, he bit the tip of his tongue, realizing something was wrong.

He misspoke.

No matter how much Xue Jin trusted him, the statuses of Shen Que and Master Xun were worlds apart.

What was Shen Que's status? He was the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion and the current Imperial Tutor. The documents that passed through his hands were all extremely important and could influence the course of the war in an instant. And what was Jiang Xun's current status? He was a commoner from the wilderness without any official rank. If an ordinary person wanted to process documents on behalf of a Grand Secretary, what if he was a traitor from an enemy state or had an ulterior motive? How would they deal with the fallout?

Shen Que couldn't possibly give him the documents; he was just asking for a snub.

Jiang Xun then stood up: "I misspoke. I only hope Master Shen rests more; I had no other intentions."

Saying that, he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Shen Que couldn't care about anything else and actually reached out to grab Jiang Xun's wrist. "Master Wu, right now there are internal troubles and external threats; we exactly need someone to help out. If you are willing, cough, cough, cough..."

Halfway through his sentence, he covered his lips and began coughing. Jiang Xun hesitantly raised his hand and patted Shen Que's back.

When he coughed as a child, his mother used to soothe his breathing like this.

Shen Que recovered a bit before smiling: "It couldn't be better if you're willing to handle the official documents. It's just that I'll have to watch from the side for the first few days."

Jiang Xun: "...Mm."

An outsider approving official documents—of course Shen Que had to keep an eye on him. Jiang Xun didn't feel anything was wrong with that.

However, in the afternoon, when he pulled up a chair to work alongside Shen Que, he felt something was off.

Shen Que didn't look like he was supervising a suspicious person; he looked like he was teaching a student.

He listed out all the pros and cons, analyzing them sentence by sentence for Jiang Xun.

Afraid of passing the disease to Jiang Xun, Shen Que sat far away, yet his guidance was incredibly detailed. He dismantled and crushed the logic within the documents, thoroughly teaching it all to Jiang Xun, like he was instructing his favorite student.

Jiang Xun was in a trance for a moment.

He was situated in the bitterly cold Saibei. Outside the window were the long-withered lotuses and fading willows. But sitting beside Shen Que, it felt like he had returned to Wenyuan Pavilion, back to that small desk in the corner. In his daze, he looked up, seemingly catching sight of the tall and sturdy ginkgo trees outside Wenyuan Pavilion; when autumn came, the entire tree would be a golden yellow, the leaves blanketing the ground.

And just like that, Jiang Xun took over a portion of the documents.

Even though he had been to the twenty-first century, the twists and turns within official documents required practical experience, so he was still somewhat half-baked. But with Shen Que explaining it clearly to him, he was quickly able to draw inferences from a single instance.

Meanwhile, the situation in the military camp also improved day by day.

Having System 55 around was equivalent to bringing along a super-massive database. Jiang Xun conducted checkups every few days. Wearing his veiled hat, he went in and out, recording data and adjusting prescriptions. At this time, people's bodies hadn't yet developed drug resistance, so simple prescriptions had a significant effect. Gradually, more and more people recovered.

Shen Xiu, however, was still sick, showing no signs of waking up.

System 55 had modified his prescription a few times, but the effects were limited. Jiang Xun examined him every day, and System 55 racked its brains to see if there were any new methods.

On this day, Jiang Xun came to check on Shen Xiu as usual. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pretending to take his pulse.

System 55 let out a confused sound: "I think his physical condition is actually pretty good."

In other words, he should be waking up.

On the bed, Shen Xiu's consciousness was groggy.

He had slept on and off for nearly half a month; there wasn't a single place on his body that didn't hurt, and his eyelids felt extremely heavy.

He struggled with difficulty for a moment, his eyelashes trembling repeatedly. Finally, he opened his eyes just a slit. Blinding white light flooded his eyeballs. Shen Xiu blinked, about to speak, but then he froze.

He blinked, then blinked again, and finally closed his eyes once more.

—I must not be awake yet, I must not be awake yet, I must not be awake yet!

Goddammit, who the hell was this young man wearing a veiled hat taking his pulse!

Since Shen Xiu had been unconscious, lying completely straight like a corpse, Jiang Xun also let his guard down. The white gauze of his veiled hat got caught on the bedpost, inadvertently lifting just a sliver, allowing Shen Xiu to catch a glimpse of the face beneath the white veil.

"..."

Green clothes, white veiled hat, and this figure.

Shen Xiu remembered, this person was Master Xun.

He felt suffocated.

Truth be told, Shen Xiu had imagined Master Xun's appearance countless times. He could have been a lean and bony old man, or a refined and gentle middle-aged man, but the one thing he absolutely hadn't expected was this face.

This face that looked exactly the same as His Majesty the Emperor's.

Jiang Xun's eyebrows and eyes were beautiful, with smooth and flowing contours. When holding court, he often frowned, which made him appear gloomy for no reason. But now, his entire body was shrouded in gauze. The sunlight shone through the lattice window onto the side of his face, outlining a highly saturated orange-yellow hue, making even the fine hairs on his skin clearly visible. At this moment, his aura was very gentle.

Shen Xiu: "..."

He closed his eyes and played dead.

It wasn't until Jiang Xun got up to draft a new prescription and then stepped out of the room, and Shen Que sat on the edge of his bed to check his condition, that Shen Xiu finally opened his eyes.

He abruptly grabbed Shen Que's hand and scrambled up from the bed: "Uncle! Something is terribly wrong! I have an urgent matter to discuss!"