Chapter 321: Yes, I'm Good.

Hua Zhi woke up again the next morning and looked around. She smiled at Gu Yanxi, "Did you chase Shao Yao away again?"

Gu Yanxi didn’t even flinch, lying through his teeth like it was second nature. “She left on her own.” His tone was smooth, unreadable as ever, as he leaned in to prop her up with practiced ease, slipping a blanket behind her back. “How’s the pain?”

“Excruciating,” she shot back, wincing as she shifted. Beads of sweat glistened on her brow, but there was a stubborn spark in her eyes, her lips a little less bloodless than the day before.

Before Gu Yanxi could speak, Shao Yao opened the door and walked in. She didn’t bother sparing Gu Yanxi a glance; her focus locked onto Hua Zhi as she moved in with quick, no-nonsense steps.

“You’re recovering,” Shao Yao announced after a brief inspection, her voice cool but firm. “But don’t get too comfortable. The pain’s going to stick around for a while. I avoided using certain painkillers—they’ll mess with your body in the long run.”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take it,” Hua Zhi replied, her tone sharp, almost challenging.

“Good,” Shao Yao said. “I’ll bring your medicinal soup.” And just like that, she was gone, her exit as abrupt as her entrance.

Gu Yanxi didn’t rise to the bait. No anger, no irritation. Instead, he calmly picked up a glass of water, holding it to Hua Zhi’s lips with deliberate care. Once she’d had her fill, he set up a small table over the bed, the setup meticulously prepared in advance. No words, no theatrics. Just quiet, unwavering attention.

Shao Yao stormed back in record time, but no matter how fast she moved, she was no match for Gu Yanxi’s precision. By the time she arrived, Gu Yanxi was already feeding Hua Zhi while casually eating himself, like he owned the damn place.

The Hua family wasn’t blind. They’d pieced it together—Hua Zhi’s sudden improvement wasn’t random; it was Shao Yao’s doing. Hua Yizheng, sharp-eyed and always on edge, hurried inside. But the scene froze him mid-stride. For a split second, the worry etched into his face eased.

The Gu family wasn’t exactly known for their saintly lineage, but Gu Yanxi? Different breed entirely. The man was dangerous, sure, but in the way that made you trust him—whether you wanted to or not.

“Grandfather,” Hua Zhi piped up, swallowing her food quickly, shooting Gu Yanxi a look that screamed, Slow the hell down.

Gu Yanxi, utterly unbothered, quirked a brow and shot Hua Yizheng a glance that practically dripped annoyance.

Seriously?

I saved your precious family, and now you’re hovering like I’m doing it wrong?

Hua Yizheng coughed, trying to mask the fact that he was blatantly unwanted in the room. “How are you feeling? Wound healing alright?”

Hua Zhi chuckled, the sound light and carefree, though her words carried a playful edge. “With this feast? How could I not feel better? It still stings, though. Shao Yao says no painkillers—something about letting my body do the work.” Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling like a kid caught sneaking dessert. Her happiness was simple: as long as her family was safe, she could handle anything.

Hua Yizheng’s throat tightened, but he swallowed the lump. She didn’t need him worrying all over her. She wanted peace, and he’d give her that.

“Pain’s part of the process. Tough it out. Shao Yao knows her craft—do as she says,” he said, his voice softer now, almost fatherly. “Finish your meal. I’ll check in later.”

“Alright.”

But before she could even finish speaking, Gu Yanxi was already shoving another spoonful into her mouth.

She shot him a sidelong glare that said, Seriously?

But eventually, she gave in, opening her mouth for the next bite like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Hua Yizheng leaned back, watching them with a faint smile. Those two might not always leave Hua Zhi cornered. Not a chance.

Hua Zhi barely made it through half the medicinal soup, her earlier bravado dimming. She shoved the bowl toward Yanxi, voice low and sharp. “You finish it. Keep it quiet.”

Gu Yanxi didn’t need her to spell it out. He caught on instantly. Sure, he thought her caution around the Hua family was overkill—things weren’t that dire—but when Hua Zhi made a request, refusal wasn’t in his vocabulary. He scooped up the rest of the soup from her bowl, ate without a second thought, and shoved the bowl back at her. “Next time, keep the portions smaller. Or are you planning to choke down just half of this every time?”

Shao Yao, catching up a beat too late, blurted out, “Wait, I was going to save half for myself! Yanxi, that’s a blood tonic! For women!”

Gu Yanxi didn’t flinch. “Already ate it,” he said, deadpan. Tonic, no tonic, blood loss, no blood loss—it didn’t matter. If it was Hua Zhi’s bowl, her spoon, he’d still eat it. End of story. “Anyway, I’m heading back to the capital. Leaving soon.”

Hua Zhi gave him a pointed look, her tone laced with warning. “Watch yourself. Don’t let anyone drag you into a mess. And remember, the Hua family are victims here—don’t let us end up with the short stick.”

“Not happening.” Yanxi moved the small table off the bed, leaned in close, and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “He won’t turn the tables.”

No one could. The so-called mighty eldest brother had been banished, and the second brother? A pitiful wreck, out of the Emperor’s favor and sinking fast. If that family had even an ounce of real power left, they’d have shown it by now.

Before leaving, Hua Zhi’s words stopped him in his tracks. “When you’re back in the capital, visit the Hua family. Tell them... Fourth Uncle is sick. I’m staying here for a bit. I’ll return later.”

Gu Yanxi raised an eyebrow. Fourth Uncle wasn’t much older than him, yet he had grown up watching Hua Zhi, forged a bond so close it made others look like strangers.

"Why him? Why Fourth Uncle?"

"Because Fourth Aunt is more capable than the others. Cao Cao, get me some paper and pen. I'll write a letter to Fourth Aunt, she will know what to do."

Shao Yao quickly put down what she was holding to go get pen and ink, and the small table was set up again. "Let me write it."

“No. She knows my handwriting.” Hua Zhi’s voice was steel, but her body betrayed her. Her arm and shoulder screamed with every move. The pen trembled in her grasp, her other hand steadying it as sweat beaded on her temple.

The door creaked open, Hua Pingyang half-dragging his elder brother inside. His sharp eyes caught Hua Zhi’s struggle, and his tone cut through the room like a whip. “What the hell are you doing? Every Hua worth their name can hold a pen. You don’t need to kill yourself proving it.”

Shao Yao fired back, fierce and loyal. “She’s not proving anything, you fool!”

“Cao Cao,” Hua Zhi cut through the noise, her gaze locking on her father and Fourth Uncle. Her words were deliberate, her tone unyielding. “Yanxi’s heading back to the capital. If I don’t send word to the family, they’ll worry themselves sick. Fourth Uncle, I’ll use you as an excuse—say you’re unwell and I’m staying behind to care for you. But I need to reassure Fourth Aunt. That’s why I’m writing this letter.”

Hua Pingyang’s expression darkened, his chest rising with a sharp breath. “You think this is about them? What about you? Do you even care about yourself?” He shoved the table aside, grabbing the pen. “I’ll write it. She’ll recognize my handwriting.”

“Fine,” Hua Zhi relented, her voice softer but no less commanding. “But don’t overdo it. Say it’s just a leg injury, that I need some time to recover before I can ride again.”

"I understand." Hua Pingyang muttered, though his thoughts ran deeper. He knew Hua Zhi’s game—every word in that letter was a shield, a calculated move to shoulder the family’s weight while hiding her own pain. But he wasn’t about to let her play martyr alone.

Hua Zhi leaned back, her eyes softening as they locked on Gu Yanxi. Her voice, laced with quiet affection, cut through the room. “Help me bring all the letters to the capital. Everyone must be worried.”

Gu Yanxi drank her in, savoring the rare vulnerability she let slip, but the shadow of her father loomed in the background, tempering his reaction. His gaze softened, a deliberate contrast to his usual sharpness. “Alright. Hand them over.”

Before she could say more, Hua Pingyang stepped out, returning moments later with a neatly tied package. The letter was sealed with precision, a quiet efficiency that spoke volumes. He passed it to Gu Yanxi without ceremony.

Gu Yanxi rose, gripping the package as he fixed his cold stare on Shao Yao. “Don’t leave her side. If anyone so much as thinks about harming her, handle it. If it’s treason, they’re no longer citizens of Daqing—deal with them accordingly. No mercy.”

Shao Yao, her face a mask of resolve, dipped her head in acknowledgment. Despite her desire to hunt down Gu Cheng’an and settle the score, she knew Hua Zhi’s wellbeing took precedence.

Hua Zhi shifted, straightening up and leaning toward Gu Yanxi, the movement slight but deliberate. He was on her in an instant, closing the space between them, his hands firm but careful as he pressed her back down. His voice dropped, edged with quiet authority. “Rest. Don’t push yourself. Shao Yao says you’re not leaving that bed until you’re ready. Be good for once. Don’t make me worry.”

Her fingers found his palm, soft and deliberate, her voice barely above a whisper, meant only for him. “I’ll behave. Don’t worry.”

Something in him cracked. Tenderness, raw and untamed, threatened to drown him. She was always like this—fragile, reckless, pulling at his instincts to keep her safe, to keep her close. The thought of leaving twisted something deep inside. He wanted nothing more than to chain her to his side, to never let her out of his sight again.

———TN: The doc says I need enough rest, but I’ll sneak in a post here and there when I can. Hang tight. Once I’m back at full strength, I’ll make it worth your while.