Chapter 423
Shen Wei comforted her: "Don’t overthink it. You’re a skilled physician—just prescribe yourself some medicine, and you’ll recover."
Moxun was indeed a master of medicine.
If she wanted to, she could surely cure herself and regain her health in no time.
Yet Moxun merely shook her head, lazily replying, "The medicine’s too bitter. I don’t want to drink it."
Having lived two lifetimes and witnessed the world’s splendors, Moxun found little left to cling to.
She idly chatted with Shen Wei.
Then a palace attendant came to inform Shen Wei that Lord Shen Xiuming had arrived.
A gentle breeze swept across the lake as Shen Xiuming, clad in his crimson official robes, strode forward. He first bowed to Shen Wei, then turned his gaze toward Moxun seated by the table. "A new vintage of fine wine has been brewed in the capital’s wineries," Shen Xiuming said. "It’s mellow and delightful. I brought two jugs especially for you, Miss Moxun."
With that, he presented the wine.
Moxun sat up abruptly. "Thank you, Lord Shen."
The rich liquor gurgled as it filled her cup.
She took a sip—it was truly exquisite. The wine wasn’t overpowering, carrying a deep, fruity aroma reminiscent of modern fruit wines.
Moxun adored it and downed an entire jug in one go.
Shen Wei had a chair brought for Shen Xiuming and invited him to sit. It was his day off, a rare moment of leisure. Shen Wei asked, "The Ninth Prince of Southern Chu, Li Mi, has ascended the throne. He’s ambitious—are things still peaceful at our borders?"
Shen Xiuming reassured her, "Don’t worry, Elder Sister. The Southern Chu frontier is stable. Their new emperor is no ordinary man, but our Qing State’s new ruler is no less formidable."
The political tides were unpredictable.
But Shen Wei no longer had the energy to fret.
Her era was fading, and the younger generation had long since shouldered the burdens of their predecessors. As dusk approached, Le You and Shen Mingyue returned from their boating excursion.
Dinner featured grilled fish, its flavor rich and savory.
Shen Wei ate until she was stuffed, drank plenty of wine, and soon felt dizzy and queasy. Li Yuanjing took her for a lakeside stroll to aid digestion. They had barely enjoyed the cool evening breeze when Cai Ping rushed over in a panic. "Master! Physician Moxun—she’s coughing up blood!"
Shen Wei froze, her foggy mind snapping into clarity.
She hurried back.
Moxun had barely eaten at dinner. After retiring to her quarters, she suddenly began vomiting blood, her condition deteriorating rapidly.
Shen Xiuming was alarmed and immediately summoned the imperial physician. The physician arrived in haste, took Moxun’s pulse, and diagnosed her with "kidney failure and excessive melancholy."
A prescription was written.
When the warm medicine was brought, Moxun took two sips before pushing the bitter concoction away in distaste. Shen Xiuming, at a loss, sought Shen Wei’s help, hoping she could persuade Moxun to take the remedy.
The room reeked of herbs.
Shen Wei dismissed the attendants and approached the bed with the medicine bowl. Moxun lay weakly against the headboard, her hair disheveled, her face as pale as paper, her features gaunt with exhaustion.
"Take the medicine. Live a little longer," Shen Wei said softly. "We’ll head south soon. I’ve heard of a strange spring there—its water is thick like fat, yellow and black. Probably petroleum. Worth studying."
Moxun shook her head.
She sighed. "Shen Wei, I know you want me to stay with you... but I truly don’t wish to live anymore. Death won’t return me to the modern world, and living means missing Zhang He'an every day. I never imagined life could be this unbearable. It’s agony."
"I wasn’t like this before. Maybe age has made me sentimental."
Moxun was drowning in torment.
Once, Zhang He'an had been by her side, their playful rivalry making life less dull. But after regaining her memories, the weight of the past crushed her like a mountain, leaving her breathless.
Life had lost its flavor. The years stretched endlessly.
Unable to persuade her, Shen Wei watched as Moxun, exhausted, curled back under the covers. She left the room to find Shen Xiuming still waiting outside.
"Elder Sister, did she take the medicine?" he asked.
Shen Wei shook her head.
Shen Xiuming frowned, baffled. "Bitter medicine cures illness. She’s a healer—why refuse treatment?"
Shen Wei patted his shoulder. "Physicians struggle to heal themselves. Each has their own fate. It’s late—you should rest."
Shen Xiuming lowered his head.
Shen Wei walked away. Glancing back after some distance, she saw him still standing alone at the gate of Moxun’s courtyard, bathed in moonlight, motionless as a statue beneath the night wind.
Her heart ached for him.
A pitiable soul.
Moxun’s condition worsened with each passing day. Summer faded into autumn, and she could scarcely eat. One day, she sought out Shen Wei, saying she wished to visit the Autumn Cool Palace in the imperial grounds.
The palace, a relic from a century ago, had once been the residence of Southern Chu’s Empress Li Qingxun and had been preserved ever since.
Autumn had arrived. The tall silk tree in the courtyard stood bare, its leaves yellowed, the ruins around it bleak and desolate.
Moxun stepped inside. A chilly wind stirred the fallen leaves at her feet. She looked up—the sunlight was harsh, the skeletal branches of the silk tree stark against the sky.
"Shen Wei," she mused, "a century ago, when the lab exploded, I woke up in this very palace with only a broken device beside me... Who’d have thought I’d return here after all this time?"
She was too frail.
Shen Wei supported her arm. "Shall we sit inside?"
Moxun declined, settling onto a stone bench beneath the tree. "It’s too cold indoors. The sun’s lovely today—let’s bask in it."
Attendants waited outside.
Moxun sat with her eyes half-closed, savoring the warmth of the autumn sun on her skin. Her vision blurred as fragmented memories surfaced—scattered yet vivid, as though from yesterday.
As the air grew cooler, Shen Wei called for a cloak.
Just as she moved to drape it over Moxun, she noticed her clutching a silk tree leaf, her eyes shut forever.
A breeze rustled the remaining leaves on the tree, sending a cascade of yellow fluttering down.
Moxun was gone.
Following her final wishes, Shen Wei chose a burial site in the southern mountains.
The funeral was simple, overseen by Shen Xiuming. Afterward, he kept vigil at her grave for seven days before returning to court, his grief hidden beneath duty.
...
At the Moonfall Lake estate, Li Yuanjing noticed Shen Wei had been subdued since returning from the mountains. One night, she tossed and turned, staring sleeplessly at the bed canopy.
"Vivi," Li Yuanjing murmured, "the departed are at peace. I’ll always be here."
Shen Wei’s sorrow was palpable.
He was puzzled. Since abdicating, they’d been inseparable, yet he sensed she still harbored secrets.
Even sharing a bed, he couldn’t pierce the depths of her heart.
"Ah." Shen Wei sighed.
She turned to meet his gaze. "Moxun was from my homeland. It’s a shame we could only bury her in the southern mountains."
Li Yuanjing was taken aback. "Your homeland? Was Moxun also from Qing State?"
She didn’t answer, instead murmuring, "Let’s sleep."
She couldn’t bring herself to tell Li Yuanjing that Moxun was dead—that the last thread connecting her to that world had been severed completely.
From now on, only Shen Wei remained, adrift in this world, with no way to return to her homeland.
...