A Night Beneath the Red Trees

Everything I did after that, I told myself, was only to repay A-Bao’s debt of life.

I made a deal with Gu Yi — I would help him stop the bleeding and patch his wounds,
but in return, he had to give me the key to the black iron chain and promise never to harass me again.

Gu Yi nodded, expression sincere as a monk about to sin.

“Of course. But the key isn’t on me. You’ll have to take me back to Yingzhong first.”

I hesitated for a long time, then gritted my teeth.

“Fine.”

When I finally examined his wounds, I realized he had four or five holes in him.
The worst was the one through his right chest; the rest were flesh wounds — shallow, but nasty-looking.

Whoever had attacked him had been considerate enough to avoid the fatal spots.
How thoughtful.

I rather liked the sight of those holes.

While treating him, I “accidentally” pressed a little too hard — or poked a little too deep.
Each time I did, Gu Yi’s face twisted with pain, his breath ragged, sweat streaming down his pale skin.
Yet he didn’t say a word — only kept staring at me with those deep, luminous eyes.

When I was finally done, he whispered, voice soft and sticky as honey,

“Qiao Qiao… thank you.”

My whole body jolted, the hair on my arms standing straight up.
I jumped back a full yard.

“You—! Stay away from me!”

Gu Yi blinked innocently, looking hurt.

By then, the sun had set.
The forest darkened quickly, shadows pooling under the trees.

I worried the assassins might return, so I decided we had to move.
But Gu Yi was in no state to travel far.

After a few steps, he slumped beneath a red tree, gasping for breath, his voice weak and fluttering:

“I… I can’t go on. Qiao Qiao, leave me. Run as far as you can. If I can’t find you again, at least I won’t be able to catch you…”

I rolled my eyes.

“Shut up. Did I say I was going to leave you?”

He froze — actually at a loss for words.

I sighed, crouched down, and turned my back to him.

“Get on. I’ll carry you.”

He hesitated, flustered.

“How can I, a man, let a woman carry me?”

“Save it. I’ve never considered you a man anyway.”

Gu Yi clenched his teeth.

“You’ll regret this someday.”

And yet, he climbed onto my back.

He was tall, his legs dragging along the ground, but surprisingly light — though not as feather-light as I’d hoped.
By the time we found a cave, I was drenched in sweat.

Night had fallen completely.

Luckily, there was dry wood inside. I started a small fire.

Gu Yi stirred weakly, his voice hoarse:

“Put it out.”

“What?”

“The fire. It’ll draw assassins.”

Right. I snuffed it out immediately.
So he still had some sense left in that pretty head of his.

It wasn’t too cold anyway — early spring air, still bearable.

I curled up in the corner, half-asleep, when I heard a faint groan.
Opening my eyes a crack, I saw Gu Yi clutching his wound, his face slick with sweat.

I crept closer and touched his hand — ice cold.

Then I remembered how much blood he’d lost earlier. Of course he’d be freezing.

A rare pang of pity stirred in me.

I took off my coat and laid it over him.

Just as I was about to feel proud of myself for being a decent fox spirit for once,
his hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

He opened his eyes a slit, whispering weakly:

“This won’t help… My chill is internal.”

“Internal cold?”

He glanced at me, lips pale, and said nothing.

Then it hit me — the biting winters of Mount Xuhe, the endless snow.

We foxes have no fur — we’re always cold, from our skin to our bones.
Even when my aunt lit great fires every night, I’d still shiver.
That cold didn’t come from outside. It came from within.

So that’s what he meant — inner cold.

No coat could cure that.

Moved by sudden sympathy, I asked,

“Then how do you warm yourself?”

Gu Yi’s eyes flickered. He seemed torn, then muttered under his breath:

“No… no, that would be improper. It would ruin a lady’s reputation. I mustn’t…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I cut him off. “What reputation? You think of me as a pet, and I think of you as a sissy. What could possibly happen?”

He twitched.

Crude as my words were, they did the trick.

He finally said,

“Clothes can block the cold, but they can’t generate heat. To drive out inner chill, one needs… a heat source. And the human body… is the best source of heat.”

“In plain words?”

“You have to hold me.”

That was it?

I rolled over without hesitation and lay beside him.

“Like this?”

“Closer.”

I scooted closer.

“Now?”

“Closer still.”

With a resigned sigh, I moved again until our arms and legs were pressed together.
His head drooped onto my shoulder. My coat became a blanket.

I was exhausted. Within moments, I drifted into sleep.

Somewhere in the haze between dreams, I felt his arm snake around my waist.

Ah, yes. Gu Yi had that habit of hugging something when he slept.
I ignored it and went back to dreaming.

When I woke at dawn, birds were singing.

Spring had come.

I stretched, wincing as pain flared in my neck.
Warm breath tickled my ear.

Looking down, I saw Gu Yi still asleep, his head resting on my shoulder, his arms locked around my waist.

He looked… peaceful.

Those long, narrow eyes were closed, hiding the usual mischief.
His face was smooth, almost delicate.

The Eastern Empire’s Most Beautiful Man, the servants always called him.

Up close, I could see why.

From this angle, he even looked a bit like Little Green.

My chest tightened with regret.

When we’d lived together under one roof, why hadn’t I thought to… maybe… take advantage of him?

A stolen kiss, even a little one, would’ve been something to remember.

As I mourned my lost opportunity, a faint buzzing reached my ears.

A hornet hovered overhead, then daintily landed on my nose.

Oh no.

If there’s one thing in this world I fear more than Gu Yi, it’s bees and hornets.

Back on Mount Xuhe, I’d once kicked a nest out of a tree while picking fruit.
They’d chased me halfway down the mountain. I was swollen for a week.

Since then, anything that buzzes gives me chills.

The hornet took two leisurely steps forward — now it was on my forehead.

I held my breath, blew gently upward… and prepared for the worst.
If I had to die smashing my head against a wall, I’d take it with me.

Just as I braced myself—

A hand shot out.

Two fingers pinched the hornet’s wings. Snap.

Dead.

I blinked up at Gu Yi, tears of relief welling in my eyes.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Were you about to kill yourself to take down a hornet?”

I nodded solemnly.

He stared for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“Ha! The mighty Black-Faced Queen of Xuhe Mountain, terrified by a little hornet! You were really about to headbutt it? Tsk tsk…”

He wiped a tear from his eye and, with mock generosity, held out the crushed hornet.

“Here. The culprit. Care to exact vengeance?”

…

When I shoved the hornet’s corpse into his mouth, peace was restored.

Several days passed.

One evening, as the sun bled over the horizon, I finished changing Gu Yi’s bandages.

A familiar figure appeared at the mouth of the cave.

General Lan, dusty and pale, stumbled from his horse, his voice thick with relief:

“Your Highness! I’ve finally found you!”

He’d been searching for ten days.

When Gu Yi had left Yingzhong, he hadn’t told Lan where he was going — too noisy, he’d said.
The poor man had turned the city upside down looking for him.

Seeing Gu Yi covered in wounds, Lan’s face crumpled like an old cloth.

I, on the other hand, felt my shoulders loosen. Finally, someone else could deal with this mess.

I suggested a plan:
Gu Yi could return to Yingzhong with Lan, while I went back to Mount Mei Forest alone.
When he eventually headed home to the Eastern Empire, he’d pass by my forest — I could meet him then, get the key, and be done with him.

Lan nodded approvingly.

“Excellent idea.”

Gu Yi’s face darkened. He clenched his jaw.

“No.”

After a long argument, we reached a compromise.

I would travel with him back to Yingzhong.
Once he gave me the key, I’d leave immediately.

And Gu Yi swore —
on his honor as the “Most Beautiful Man of the East” —
that he wouldn’t stop me.