038 Good Temper

When I woke again, it was Late Spring who sat at my bedside. My gaze swept across the room, but the person I longed to see was nowhere in sight. Am I truly unable to let him go?

“Mufan, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” she asked gently.

I shook my head to indicate that I was fine.

“The general stayed by your side all day. He’s just been called away by the old madam for dinner. Do you have any idea how ill you were? The physician said if your fever didn’t break, it could have been dangerous.” As Late Spring spoke, she helped me sit up and placed another quilt behind my back to support me.

“I’m perfectly fine now,” I replied. In modern times, this would have been nothing more than a common cold or fever—an IV and some medicine would have taken care of it with ease.

“How could you be so careless? Even I can see how much the general cares for you. I can hardly help feeling envious,” Late Spring said, fussing over the covers to make sure I wouldn’t catch another chill.

“He’s probably just afraid of rumors saying the grand general mistreats his servants…”

“Who’s saying that the grand general is neglecting his people?” A voice called from outside. It was Yun Heng—trouble. He’d overheard me.

Yun Heng entered, still dressed in white, looking somewhat weary. Late Spring quickly stepped aside to greet him with a bow.

He gestured for her to leave, but I stopped her.

“Late Spring, could you bring me some water?” I said, then turned to Yun Heng, “Please don’t take offense, General—I’m simply a bit thirsty.”

He indicated it was no bother, and Late Spring naturally stayed, not leaving the room. I was being selfish—I no longer wanted to be alone with Yun Heng, lest something untoward happen again. Since I’d made up my mind to restrain my feelings, I had to see it through.

“Are you feeling better? Still acting like a child, unable to care for yourself,” he chided, though his voice held concern rather than reproach. Sadly, I could no longer bear such warmth.

Yun Heng sat down at the table, reaching for a cup, but Late Spring immediately stepped forward to pour him some water.

If I could, I would have given Late Spring a thumbs-up—well done. With her here, Yun Heng wouldn’t feel comfortable sitting by my bedside again.

“Thank you for your guidance, General. Your servant understands,” I replied.

At my words, Yun Heng’s hand, which was arranging the quilt, paused noticeably. There is a line between master and servant, one I had always skirted with jest, but I knew now I could take it no further—lest I lose even myself.

“Mufan, you…” he began, but seeing Late Spring present, he left the rest unsaid.

I could imagine that if she weren’t here, he would have rushed over to ask why I was acting this way. But how could I possibly explain?

“Thank you for your kindness, General. But it’s late; please, you should go and rest. When I’m recovered, I’ll thank you properly.” My words were a clear dismissal, though this was, after all, Yun Heng’s own residence.

“I’ll be away for a few days. Take care of yourself. Late Spring, look after Mufan a little more closely.”

“Thank you, General,” I said.

“Yes, General,” Late Spring replied.

With that, Yun Heng turned and left, and I finally let out a breath of relief. He truly had a good temper, never easily angered. I wondered what business called him away for several days. I cast a lingering glance at the door before turning my gaze away once more.