Chapter 27: The Madman!

"Peony root, dandelion, and forsythia—take them to Cuixue Pool!"

Before Danzhu could finish listening, a blur passed before her eyes. Jiang Li, carrying Nan Yan, had already vanished, though the echo of his final word lingered in the air.

"Hurry!"

Danzhu dared not delay; she turned and bolted out of the dilapidated temple.

Meng Boji had already reached Baohua Temple. It was the dead of night, and the temple was enveloped in absolute silence. As a royal temple, it was patrolled by warrior monks, but Meng Boji evaded them under the cover of darkness and slipped into the side courtyard on the south side.

He counted carefully, just as Nan Yan had instructed: "One, two..."

After confirming the location was correct, he reached out to push the door, but it was locked tight and would not budge. Frowning, he scrambled to the window, pried it open, and gingerly climbed inside.

The room was pitch black. It took him quite a while for his eyes to adjust to the faint starlight and make out the vague silhouettes of the furniture. Tables, chairs, cabinets—but there was no sign of anything resembling a Buddhist shrine.

Unable to find it, Meng Boji took out his flint, shielded it with his hand, and blew until a tiny flame flickered to life, allowing him to search inch by inch.

Suddenly, he kicked something. The path ahead seemed blocked, and when he moved the flame forward, he realized he had reached the bedside. He was startled to find a stout woman sleeping on the bed; the kick to the bed frame made her frown as if she were about to wake up.

He quickly extinguished the flame and dropped to the floor, pressing his body flat against the ground. Fortunately, the woman merely rolled over and fell back asleep. Meng Boji let out a sigh of relief and carefully lifted his head. The woman seemed to have fallen into a deeper slumber, her snoring rhythmic and thunderous.

Only then did he notice, as his gaze drifted past the bed, that the shrine was actually behind it! Why would anyone place a Buddhist shrine behind a bed?

Meng Boji didn't have time to ponder this. His greater concern was how to get past the bed and the woman to retrieve what he wanted. The object of his dreams was within reach; having already trespassed into Baohua Temple, he didn't mind taking one more risk.

Rolling up his sleeves and lifting his robes, he hoisted his leg, straining to step over the woman. The woman on the bed was quite stout, and since Meng Boji was significantly shorter than Jiang Li, his legs were not long either. He barely managed to cross over, but having taken such a wide stride, he lost his balance and found himself in an incredibly awkward position, straddling the bed, unable to move forward or backward.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he gritted his teeth, gathering his strength for one final push. Suddenly, the woman rolled over again, and her sturdy leg shot up, landing precisely on his crotch.

"Oof—!"

Meng Boji couldn't help but let out a wail as he clutched his groin, effectively jolting the woman awake.

Waking in the middle of the night to find a man straddling her while clutching his crotch, the woman let out a piercing shriek. "You rogue! You lecher!"

Meng Boji’s mind went blank. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, trying to cover her mouth. But the woman struggled violently; frail as he was, Meng Boji was no match for her. Not only did he fail to silence her, but she also slapped him twice across the face, grabbed his collar, and shoved him with such force that he felt himself fly backward, crashing into the shrine behind the bed with a deafening thud.

The offerings and the Buddha statue tumbled to the floor in a chaotic heap. The woman seized the opportunity to jump off the bed and dash out of the room, screaming, "Someone! Come quick, catch the lecher!"

Meng Boji nearly fainted from the impact. He struggled to his feet, glancing at the debris on the floor, but there was no sign of any dowry list or property deeds. The Buddha statue had fallen, and the space where it had sat was completely empty.

In that instant, it was as if a basin of ice-cold water had been poured over his head. He finally understood—Nan Yan had tricked him!

"Help! Someone come quickly!" The woman was still shrieking at the doorway. Clutching his throbbing groin, Meng Boji gritted his teeth, scrambled over the bed, and leaped out the window.

Lights began to flicker on throughout Baohua Temple. By the time the monks arrived, Meng Boji had already vanished into the night.

The woman stood with her hands on her hips, fuming. "To dare insult me, the esteemed Lady of the State! I will catch this lecher if it's the last thing I do!"

It turned out she was the Lady of the State, the elder sister of the current Imperial Consort! Meng Boji, having fled in such a panic, had no idea he had invited such a catastrophe upon himself.

It was the darkest hour before dawn. As Meng Boji stumbled through the darkness, falling time and again, Jiang Li had already arrived at Cuixue Pool with Nan Yan.

The pool was hidden deep within a mountain ravine. It should have been impossible for anyone to cover that distance so quickly on foot, yet Jiang Li stood there, carrying the semi-conscious Nan Yan, without a hint of exhaustion or a change in his breathing.

Above the pool, a massive waterfall cascaded down like a silver river from the heavens, sending up a spray of water. The mountain peak soared into the clouds, covered in perpetual snow. The water, sourced from these frozen heights, was bone-chillingly cold, earning the pool its name, "Cuixue" (Snow-Tempered).

Nan Yan’s poison was flaring up violently; Jiang Li could feel her skin burning through his clothes. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped into the water. The pool was waist-deep at its shallowest; Jiang Li held her horizontally, ensuring she was fully submerged while keeping her head above the water to prevent choking.

The biting cold of the pool water brought some relief to the burning Nan Yan, who let out a soft, faint sigh. She felt better, but Jiang Li, frozen to the point where his face had turned pale, gritted his teeth and stood perfectly still, holding her in the icy water.

Under the constant washing of the pool water, Nan Yan’s breathing gradually steadied. In her dream-like state, she felt as if she had been transported back to her wedding night with Meng Boji.

On their wedding night, Meng Boji had lifted her veil, shared the nuptial wine, and then blown out the candles. After that, he seemed like a different person, silent and withdrawn. Nan Yan, unable to hold her liquor, could only vaguely make out the silhouette of a man in the darkness as he carried her to the bed.

His embrace was broad and warm, and every movement was cautious and tender, as if he were holding a precious treasure. Regrettably, just as now, her consciousness was blurred, and she could not remember what had happened afterward. But she remembered that a unique scent had lingered at the tip of her nose.

It was like... the cool, crisp fragrance of bamboo.

She flared her nostrils, inhaling deeply. Yes, it was that familiar, crisp scent of bamboo.

Nan Yan opened her eyes in a daze. Through the shimmering water, she could only vaguely discern the outline of a man’s face.

It was all just a dream, wasn't it? She had only had a nightmare. Meng Boji hadn't lied to her, the Meng family hadn't schemed against her, there was no Xia Qingfei, and her father and brother hadn't been framed for treason. They were still at the wedding banquet that night, celebrating for her.

That was good. It turned out all of this was just a dream after she had gotten drunk.

"Husband..." Nan Yan raised her hand, reaching for the neck of the person beside her.

Jiang Li stiffened, his heart skipping a beat as he bowed his head.

Nan Yan clung to his neck, proactively leaning her face toward him. Her eyes were misted with moisture, sparkling like scattered stars. Her full, red lips were inches away, her cheeks flushed with a faint warmth, and her soft, whispered murmur was impossible to resist.

"Husband..."

Jiang Li’s mind went blank. What did she call him? Husband?

Before he could react, Nan Yan buried her face into the crook of his neck, her soft, warm lips pressing against his skin, breathing out a gentle, heated breath.