景云元年,1月30日.洛阳市郊.
他来接我的时候,天还没亮.
我推开门,他正站在走廊上.他宽大的斗篷上覆着一层薄霜;他呼出的白气在冷空气中凝结成雾,随即被风吹散.月光洒在他的脸上,清晰地映照着他的眉毛和眼睛.他眼下还有黑眼圈——他没睡好.或者说,他根本没睡.
"殿下几点起床?"
"刚才."他伸出手."走吧."
青媛从后面追了出来,手里拿着一件狐皮大衣,声音被寒风吹得沙哑:"三夫人——穿上这个——外面冷——"
我接过它,裹在身上.他已经在前面等着了.月光拉长了他的影子,落在我的脚边.
洛阳市外的万人坑位于该市东南方向.
我们骑行了将近一个小时.地平线开始泛白;月亮仍挂在西边的山峰上,迟迟不肯落下.路上一个人也没有;只有马蹄踏在冻土上的声音在空旷的田野间回荡.哒哒,哒哒.风从背后吹来,干燥而寒冷,像刀子一样刺骨.
他带路,我跟在后面.他宽大的斗篷在风中飘扬,偶尔会露出腰间的剑鞘一角.
天亮时分,我们到达了目的地.
虽然被称为"土丘",但实际上却是一片荒地.没有树木,没有草地,只有光秃秃的土堆和歪斜的墓碑.有些坟墓上还插着召唤亡灵的旗帜,被风吹得只剩下几块碎布,在晨风中微微颤动.远处,几只乌鸦蹲在枯枝上,歪着头看着我们,它们又黑又重,像一簇簇枯死的果实.
空气中弥漫着一种难以形容的气味.不仅仅是腐烂的气味,而是一种更深沉,更沉重的气息,像是泥土与死亡的混合体.吸入这气味,冰冷刺骨,仿佛能灼伤肺部.
他勒住马缰,纵身跃下马背,把缰绳系在一块倒塌的墓碑上.他走过来扶我下马时,手很稳.
"就是这里."
天空放晴,但太阳尚未升起.整个万人坑笼罩在一片灰蒙蒙的雾气中;那些高低不一的土堆,看起来像一个个沉默的人蹲在地上.
"钱万三葬在哪里?"
"李日之查到了.东侧,第三排,第五个坟."他从袖子里掏出一张纸,上面画着一张简易的乱葬坑地图."去年二月埋的.没有棺材,只有一个草席."
我深吸了一口气.将近一年了.没有棺材,也没有遗体防腐处理.牙齿最后才会腐烂,但如果软组织已经腐烂,牙齿可能早就脱落了.
"我们走吧."
He walked ahead; I followed. The path in the mass grave was difficult; everywhere there were碎石 (gravel) and withered branches, slipping half a step for every step taken. He walked very slowly, occasionally turning back to look at me.
Halfway there, he suddenly stopped.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Do you feel something is wrong?"
I paused. It was quiet all around.Too quiet. No bird calls, no insect chirps; even the wind had stopped. The crows had flown away sometime; nothing remained on the withered branches. The mist grew thicker; beyond three steps, nothing could be seen.
"Your Highness—"
"Don't speak." His hand pressed on my shoulder, pulling me behind him. His other hand had already gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist.
Then I heard the sound.
Not wind, not birds, but footsteps. Many footsteps, surrounding us from all directions. Stepping on gravel,rustle rustle, like snakes crawling.
"Come out." His voice was calm.
Figures emerged from the mist. One, two, three... seven. All dressed in black, faces covered, holding knives. The blades gleamed coldly in the morning mist.
"Crown Prince Your Highness," the leader spoke, his voice raspy like sandpaper grinding against stone. "You should not have come here."
"Whether I should come or not is not for you to decide."
"Your Highness, this is a remote wilderness; no one knows you came. Tell me—if something were to happen, could anyone find out who did it?"
He said nothing. I stood behind him, feeling his body tense slightly—just as when drawing a bow on the training ground. He was calculating. Calculating distance, angles, how to take out the most people in the shortest time.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"In a moment, no matter what happens, run toward the horses."
"Your Highness—"
"Do not look back. Do not stop. Mount the horse, return to the city, find Li Rizhi."
"And you?"
He did not answer. His hand pressed on the sword hilt, knuckles turning white.
The seven men in black closed in. Knife tips pointed at him, at me.
"Your Highness, you alone—how many can you fight?"
He said nothing. He drew his sword.
The blade light carved an arc in the morning mist, like lightning. Before the first man in black could react, the sword had already struck his wrist. The knife fell; blood splashed out, scattering into a red mist in the fog.
He sidestepped the second strike, smashing the sword hilt onto the second man's face. The sound of bone cracking was dull, like stepping on frozen winter earth.
The third and fourth charged together. Two knives slashed at him simultaneously; he blocked with his sword, the sound of metal colliding exploding in the empty wilderness, sparks flying. He gritted his teeth, blue veins bulging from his neck to his temples—exactly as when I sutured his wounds. He exerted force suddenly, pushing the two away, turned, and slashed the fifth man's leg. The man screamed, falling to his knees.
Six left. One more to go.
"Your Highness has excellent swordsmanship." The leader stood in the mist, unmoving. He was watching. Watching his patterns, his flaws, when he would tire.
"But Your Highness, you can fight seven. Can you fight ten?"
In the distance, more figures appeared in the mist. Not three, not five, but more. Footsteps surged from all directions like a tide. Ten, fifteen, twenty. Knife lights flashed in the mist, like the eyes of a wolf pack.
My heart sank to the bottom.
"Qingyan." His voice was low but steady. "Do you remember what I said?"
"I remember. But I won't leave."
"Qingyan—"
"Your Highness, I am your doctor. A doctor cannot abandon their patient."
He turned to look at me. In the mist, his eyes were very bright, brighter than the blade light.
"Very well." He switched the sword to his left hand and grasped my right hand with his right. "Follow me."
He pulled me, charging toward the horses. Not running, butcharging. The sword in his hand was like a beam of light. Men in black swarmed up; he slashed one down, sidestepped another, and kicked a third away. Blood splashed onto his face, hands, and large cloak. His breathing grew heavier, but his hand did not let go.
My wrist was held tightly by him. His palm was warm, warm even through the winter wind, through the blood and mist.
The horses were just ahead. Ten steps. Nine. Eight.
A man in black charged from the side, slashing at him. He sidestepped, blocking in front of me—
The blade grazed his left arm.
His large cloak was sliced open; blood seeped out, spreading into a red patch on his moon-white robe. He did not stop. Backhanding his sword, he felled that man. Then he pulled me to the horse, pushing me onto the saddle.
"Hold on tight."
He vaulted onto the horse, sitting behind me. One hand held the reins, the other held the sword. The horse neighed and bolted forward.
Men in black chased after. One slashed at the horse's hindquarters; the horse, in pain, accelerated suddenly, nearly throwing me off. His arm wrapped around my waist, holding me tight against him. Very tight.
"Don't be afraid."
Behind us, the sounds of battle grew fainter. Hooves treading on frozen earth,clip-clop, clip-clop, like a heartbeat. His chest pressed against my back, very hot. Blood seeped from the tear in his cloak, dripping onto my hand—warm, then quickly cooling.
The horse ran for a long time.
I didn't know how long. Wind whistled past my ears; his arm环 (encircled) my waist, tight. His heartbeat transmitted through my back,thump-thump-thump, fast but steady.
By the time we reached the Luo River, the horse finally slowed. He reined in, vaulted down, and helped me dismount.
His left arm hung by his side. Blood dripped from his cuff onto the withered grass, drop by drop.
"Your Highness, you are injured."
"A minor wound." He leaned against a rock, panting. There was blood on his face—unsure if his own or others'. His cloak was torn in several places; the cut on his left arm was the deepest, blood dyeing the entire sleeve red. But his eyes were still bright. As bright as when he returned from the coup on that rainy night.
"Even a minor wound needs treatment."
I opened the medicine box and squatted before him. The cut wasn't deep but was long, stretching from his shoulder to his elbow. I rinsed it with wine; he frowned slightly but did not dodge.
"Your Highness, why did you block that strike?"
"If I hadn't, it would have cut you."
"Your Highness—"
"Qingyan." He looked at me. His gaze was serious. "I said you are my doctor. A doctor cannot be injured."
My eyes suddenly grew hot.
"Your Highness, you are the patient. A patient cannot be injured either."
He paused, then smiled. Very light, very faint, but his eyes were bright.
"Good. Then neither of us will be injured."
I bandaged him with cotton strips. My fingers trembled. Not from cold, but because of how he had stood in front of me just now. Blade light, blood, his back. So many people, so many knives; he had not retreated a single step.
"Your Highness, were you afraid just now?"
"No."
"Liar."
"Truly not afraid." He leaned against the rock, looking at the distant Luo River. "What I feared was—they hurting you."
I lowered my head and continued bandaging. My hands steadied, but my heart still raced.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"The case of Qian Wansan may be bigger than we imagined."
He raised his head, looking into the distance. The Luo River shimmered with silvery-white light in the morning glow; the thin ice had not yet melted.
"They don't want us to investigate Qian Wansan. They don't want us to investigate Liu San. They don't want us to investigate anything related to Princess Taiping. So, they wanted us dead here."
"Your Highness—"
"But I do not wish to die." He turned to look at me. "Therefore, I will continue to investigate this case."
Morning light shone from behind him, outlining his silhouette with a golden rim. Blood stained his face, his cloak was torn, his left arm wrapped in white cloth. He looked disheveled. But standing there, he resembled an unsheathed sword. Sharp. Unbending.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"I will help you."
He looked at me and smiled. "Good."
We slowly rode back.
His left arm couldn't move; he could only hold the reins with his right. I sat in front of him, my back against his chest. His heartbeat transmitted from behind,thump-thump-thump, very steady.
"Your Highness, Qian Wansan's body—"
"We will return tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow we will bring more people." His chin rested on my shoulder, his voice somewhat hoarse. "Today was too dangerous."
I said nothing. The wind blew from the Luo River, carrying the chill of ice shards. But his chest was warm.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Do you know, in the mass grave just now, I remembered something?"
"What?"
"I remembered the first time you examined my teeth. You put your finger in my mouth, and your hand didn't tremble at all."
"Your Highness remembered that from back then?"
"I remembered." His voice was very light. "I remembered from that moment."
Hooves treading on the bluestone road,clip-clop, clip-clop, echoing far through the morning streets of Luoyang. No one was on the streets yet; only the old man selling Hu cakes was lighting his stove. Cooking smoke drifted from the alley entrance, mixing with the scent of sesame.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"You just said you don't want to die."
"Mm."
"I don't want to die either."
He said nothing. But his arm tightened slightly.
"So," I said, "in the future, do not block knives alone."
He paused, then smiled. "Good. In the future, we will block them together."
"Your Highness, that's not what I meant—"
"I know." His voice was very low, so low it seemed meant only for me. "But I do not want you to be injured."
The gates of Luoyang City opened. Morning light shone down from the gate tower, illuminating the entire Zhuque Avenue. His arm encircled my waist, tight. His heartbeat transmitted through my back,thump-thump-thump, merging with the sound of hooves.
By the time we returned to the Eastern Palace, Qingyuan was waiting at the gate. Seeing us covered in blood, her face turned pale instantly.
"Third Lady! Your Highness! You—!"
"It's nothing." I vaulted off the horse. "Qingyuan, boil hot water. Prepare clean cotton strips and medicinal powder."
"Y-yes!"
She ran inside. I turned around; he was still on the horse, looking down at me. Morning light shone on his face, making the blood there gleam.
"Your Highness, come down. Let me change your dressing."
He vaulted down. Upon landing, he swayed slightly, unable to use his left arm. I supported him; his hand rested on my shoulder, heavy.
"Qingyan."
"Hmm?"
"Tomorrow, shall we go again?"
I looked at him. In the morning light, his eyes were very bright. Not the brightness of blade light, but another kind—the brightness of someone who has walked in darkness for a long time and finally sees the light.
"We go," I said. "Your Highness keeps every promise made to me. I will also keep every promise made to Your Highness."
He smiled.
After the wound was bandaged, he leaned back in the chair, eyes closed. I sat opposite, watching him. The large cloak had been changed; bloodstains remained on the moon-white robe, impossible to wash out.
"Your Highness, your cloak is torn."
"Mm."
"Change it tomorrow."
"No need." He opened his eyes. "This one is fine."
"Torn is fine?"
"是你缝的."他嘴角微微上扬."比新的好多了."
我低下了头.我的脸感觉很烫.
"青岩."
"唔?"
"今天在万人坑里,你害怕吗?"
"是的,"我坦诚地承认,"看到那么多人,我很害怕."
"那你为什么不跑?"
"因为殿下没有逃跑."
他看着我,目光深邃.
"青妍,你知道今天在万人坑里什么让我最开心吗?"
"什么?"
"你没有逃跑,"他说."你留了下来."
晨光透过窗户洒进房间,映照在他的脸上.他的眼睛明亮极了,比万人坑里的刀光还要耀眼,比洛阳城的灯火还要明亮.
"殿下."
"唔?"
"将来无论我们去哪里,我都不会逃跑."
他看着我,笑了.
"好."
（第十四章完）