Chapter 42: Arrival at Dawn

Mingyi felt the small pull of guilt.

She was living under his roof, after all. Embarrassing him so openly wasn't quite right — even if it was Ji Bozhai, even if she'd enjoyed every second of it. She shouldn't have made it quite so theatrical.

So she dropped to her knees in front of him, schooling her face into something suitably distressed. "This humble servant has been feeling unwell lately, my lord. I'm afraid I've ruined your mood. Please don't be angry."

Ji Bozhai looked down at her. His eyes were very cold. "If you're unwell, you should rest."

He stood, turned, and walked out without looking back.

"Ah, my lord—" She called after him with just the right note of anxious concern, then drifted to the doorframe to watch him go.

He was genuinely furious. Even from behind, walking away, he radiated it.

Good. He wouldn't be coming back tonight.

Her expression settled into something more comfortable. Mingyi hummed to herself as she returned to tidy up the dishes.

---

Outside, even the plants seemed to recoil from him. Birds that had been sleeping in the branches scattered as he passed, as though something cold had swept through the courtyard.

Buxiu kept pace behind him and ventured carefully: "My lord — you were so eager to come back today. Why let Ming Guniang upset you like this?"

"I was eager to return — and this is what I come back to!" Ji Bozhai's voice had a sharp edge. "What kind of attitude is that?"

Other women spent their days longing for his attention, competing for a word or a glance. This one had kissed him and then immediately looked like she needed to be sick.

He turned this over, genuinely puzzled. He hadn't touched Qingli. He hadn't eaten anything unusual. He couldn't think of a single reason—

Unless her recent time with Situ Ling had given her ideas about where her loyalties lay.

He said this last part aloud without meaning to.

Buxiu's face did something complicated. "My lord... Situ Ling is fifteen years old."

"Fifteen is old enough for marriage."

"That's — yes, technically, but surely not — my lord, please calm yourself. Ming Guniang is probably genuinely unwell."

"What kind of illness makes someone react like that?"

Buxiu considered this with the look of someone doing arithmetic in their head. "Ming Guniang has been in the residence for over a month now. Could she possibly be... with child?"

Ji Bozhai stopped walking.

He turned slowly. "What did you say?"

Buxiu realized what he had said and immediately began backtracking. "This servant only speculates. It may well not be—"

Ji Bozhai cut him off with a look, then composed himself. "Didn't she drink the medicine after serving me?"

"Every last drop, my lord. I witnessed it personally."

"Then stop talking nonsense." He resumed walking.

Starlight lay across the courtyard paths. The pond caught it in pieces, a koi flicking through and scattering the reflection.

Ji Bozhai slowed. Stopped.

"Is it possible the medicine... failed?"

Buxiu took a moment to realize his lord was still on the subject. Surprised, and somewhat entertained despite himself, he offered: "If my lord is concerned, perhaps I could arrange for a physician to examine Ming Guniang tomorrow?"

"Have her examined," Ji Bozhai said, as if this were a very minor administrative matter. "For peace of mind."

He walked on.

He did not particularly want children. The continuation of his line was something others fussed over; to him it had always been inconvenience dressed up as obligation. Even if it were Mingyi, it would be—

He paused.

Mingyi was, objectively speaking, extraordinarily beautiful. And he was, equally objectively, exceptionally handsome. The mathematics of it were actually rather compelling.

The eyebrows should take after hers. Delicate and clean. The eyes also hers — that particular brightness, the way they could be so direct and then suddenly unreadable. The nose could be his; he had a good nose. The mouth might go either way.

Ji Bozhai indulged this line of thinking for longer than he would admit to anyone.

But. Not now. Truly not now. If she were to conceive and then lose it, the damage to her constitution could be lasting. She had carried him on her back once and been exhausted by it. She was too slight, too easily worn down. He would rather she stayed healthy. A beautiful invalid would be an inconvenience, and he had enough of those.

If health was genuinely the concern, finding somewhere quiet outside the capital to wait out a pregnancy wasn't impossible in principle. But Mingyi was currently useful to have close at hand. Relocating her would require finding somewhere he trusted completely, which was its own problem—

Ji Bozhai came back to himself at the gate of his own courtyard.

He stood there for a moment.

He treated all women the same. There was no reason Mingyi should be any different. She was a clever girl, granted, and prettier than most, and — he would admit — more interesting than he'd anticipated. But she was a pawn. She had been useful and would be discarded when she ceased to be useful. That was the entirety of the arrangement.

He shook his head at himself. She had managed to occupy ten minutes of his thinking on a walk that should have taken two, which was already too much.

He would wait for the physician's report. Then he would decide.

He went inside, changed, and went to bed with the composure of a man who had resolved a minor logistical matter.

---

Yan Xiao was dragged through the gates of the Ji residence at dawn, still half inside a dream.

"My lord — slow down—" He stumbled, squinting against the early light. "What could possibly require a physician at this hour?"

"A routine pulse check." Ji Bozhai's expression was composed. His pace was not.

Yan Xiao looked at him with genuine suffering. "I am a third-rank imperial physician. I served in the royal medical bureau. You're having me come here before sunrise for a routine pulse check."

"Your skills are unmatched. I don't trust anyone else."

Was he supposed to be flattered by that? Yan Xiao sighed and let himself be hauled through the corridors toward the Lord of Flowing Radiance's quarters.

At the door, however, Ji Bozhai stopped. He turned to Granny Xun. "Escort the physician in."

Yan Xiao stared at him. "You're not coming?"

"I have other matters to attend to."

"What matters? It's barely dawn. Are you planning to go crow like a rooster?"

Ji Bozhai raised his foot with clear intent.

Yan Xiao dodged with the practiced ease of long experience, grabbed his pulse-taking thread, and disappeared after Granny Xun into the side hall.

---

Mingyi was barely awake. Granny Xun had helped her wash her face and tidy her hair, but she was still drifting when the thread was tied around her wrist, barely reacting as Yan Xiao settled in to read her pulse.

He took his time, more from habit than necessity. Then he rolled his eyes.

"Eating well. Sleeping well. This woman is in better health than most people I see in a month." He let the thread drop. "What exactly is he worried about?"

Granny Xun smiled. "The young lady has been on his mind."

That particular scoundrel, worried about someone? Yan Xiao found this improbable. He gathered his things, stepped out—

And found Ji Bozhai still standing under the eaves of the corridor, exactly where he'd been left.

Yan Xiao stopped. Looked at him. Then started laughing.

So he actually was worried.

He sauntered over and clapped a hand on Ji Bozhai's shoulder. "You know, if you had simply said from the start that you were serious about this one, the rest of us wouldn't have teased you so much."

Ji Bozhai came back to himself and looked at him. "Serious about what?"

Yan Xiao tilted his chin toward the room. "The one inside. You dragged me here before the sun was up, you wouldn't come in with me, and you've been standing in this corridor for the entire examination." He studied his friend's face with the calm interest of a physician observing a new symptom. "And you're still going to tell me it's nothing?"