Chapter 28: Old Scars

I walked away from Wan Chun with my back to her, telling myself that Yun Heng’s room still needed tidying and that I was a busy maid. Yet, despite my efforts to focus, my mind was filled with the image of Wan Chun’s uneasy face—her teeth sinking into her lip, her fingers twisting a small embroidered handkerchief. She seemed torn, as if struggling with something she longed to say but could not, or perhaps she was trying to probe for something. I could hardly bear to watch.

If I, Ziyun of the Huangfu family, were ever caught, I might very well implicate them as well. After all, I owed them a debt of life-saving gratitude. I truly did not want to hear whatever Wan Chun was about to say next, and so I fled, almost in panic.

Back then, I naively believed that Wan Chun simply wanted to give me and Li Yexuan some time alone, so she would not always be hovering around Yun Heng. She wanted to be the one at Yun Heng’s side instead. I thought it mere girlish jealousy, a small, harmless stratagem, and paid it little mind. In truth, I had underestimated her.

Alone, I went to boil some water, planning to brew Yun Heng’s favorite tea when he returned. I always felt that having someone to wait for was a kind of happiness. Just as I always looked forward to seeing my younger brother, I had spent countless days imagining our reunion. Would he throw himself into my arms and act spoiled, calling me “Sister”? But then again, perhaps not. My brother could be cold and distant at times; often, I was not sure whether I was the elder sibling or he was. He would surely mock me for being so clumsy, for always ending up hurt.

There was a time when I would grumble about why men must always be taller than women. My brother was nearly as tall as I was, and he often bumped his forehead against mine—was that not a form of teasing? Now, I missed those days dearly. Even if all he did was pester me for my grape wine, I would not mind.

Lost in my thoughts, I did not notice Yun Heng’s return. At some point, he appeared behind me, watching me grin foolishly and checking to see if the water was boiling.

“General…” I stammered as I turned and saw him, startled into knocking over the freshly boiled water.

“Ah…”

“Careful…”

Yun Heng caught me up in his arms, shielding me with his body as the scalding water splashed onto his robe. Not a drop touched me.

“Are you all right?” His gentle voice sounded by my ear, setting my heart racing.

“I’m fine, General. But your clothes…” I said, seeing his favorite white robe, embroidered with bamboo, now ruined by the spill.

“It’s nothing. Come, help me change.” Yun Heng boldly took my hand and led me toward his room, leaving me dazed and flustered.

What had he just said? Help him change his clothes… Why did I suddenly feel my nose about to bleed in embarrassment? For a split second, I found myself wondering whether Yun Heng had abdominal muscles.

The next thought that flashed through my mind was that, whatever the answer, I must never breathe a word of it to anyone—especially not to Wan Chun.

“What are you daydreaming about? Go fetch my clothes,” Yun Heng said, giving me a playful tap on the head. Rubbing my scalp, I fetched another set of white robes for him.

“Here are your clothes.” Embarrassed, I averted my gaze, handing them to him without looking.

I waited a long moment before finally feeling a pair of hands take the clothes from mine.

When I glanced up, Yun Heng was already dressed only in his under-robe, the collar loose at his chest, revealing a hint of muscle—and several scars.

At the sight of those scars, all other thoughts vanished. I looked into his eyes and asked, “How did you get these scars?”

“Just carelessness on the battlefield. What’s this? Little Mufan, are you worried for your general?” he teased.

“I’ll step outside,” I replied, blushing furiously, and fled the room—his laughter ringing out behind me.

And yet, I could not let go of those old scars. Though I knew nothing of medicine, I could tell they had been there for years, perilously close to his heart. Had he once been gravely wounded? In the days that followed, I asked him about it, casually or otherwise, but Yun Heng always brushed it off with a smile, offering no explanation. Perhaps he had suffered a defeat in battle and was too proud to admit it, not wanting to tarnish his distinguished record.

After that incident with the spilled tea, Yun Heng never again bothered to avoid me when changing his clothes, leaving me tempted to flee more than once. To be confronted with such a handsome man so close at hand—truly, it was a test of my resolve…