Chapter 118: Fool

“Yang Guo!” Liao Qiniang’s voice was sharp with anger and anxiety. Seeing Yang Yaozong stubbornly ignore her warnings and leap off the cliff with the foreign girl, a sudden, stabbing pain gripped her heart.

She dashed to the cliff’s edge and shouted down, “Throw the torches!”

Obediently, several torches were hurled toward the base of the cliff. Yet, even with the flickering light, Yang Yaozong’s falling figure was nowhere to be seen.

Though nothing was visible, Liao Qiniang stood frozen, staring into the abyss below. Only when a crystal-clear tear slid down her cheek did she snap back to reality. Suppressing her anger and pain, she gritted her teeth and ordered, “Descend immediately to search! Alive or dead, we must find them!”

The rapid fall made Yang Yaozong and A Yi feel as if their souls were being torn from their bodies. The cold autumn wind howled past their ears like countless restless spirits, clawing and wailing as they lunged toward the two, trying to wrench their souls free.

A Yi controlled two eagles circling beside them, while Yang Yaozong pressed down on the birds’ bodies, using their upward lift to slow their descent. Though it eased somewhat, their fall remained perilously fast.

With a splash, they plunged into a deep pool, descending straight toward its depths.

Yang Yaozong realized A Yi couldn’t swim, but stubbornly, she didn’t struggle. She clung tightly to him, sparing him the burden of having to keep her afloat. The icy water bit sharply, but after great effort, Yang Yaozong brought them to shore, only to find A Yi unconscious.

Hurriedly, he loosened their bindings. Kneeling beside her, he pressed on her abdomen to expel the water she had swallowed, then laid her flat and gently tapped her cheeks, calling her name. When she didn’t respond, he checked her pulse at the neck and was relieved to find a faint heartbeat. Without hesitation, he began performing CPR.

“Cough, cough! Cough, cough!” At last, A Yi gasped for air and slowly regained consciousness.

Seeing her awaken, Yang Yaozong felt all strength drain from his body. He collapsed beside her, laughing wildly as tears welled in his eyes.

A Yi tilted her head, watching the tears streaming down his face, and whispered sweetly, “Fool.”

Having narrowly escaped death, the tension eased, but the cold autumn wind chilled their water-soaked clothes, which clung tightly to their skin. They shivered, curling up against the cold. Yang Yaozong wrung out his long robe but did not put it back on, instead packing it away. It was colder to wear clothes wet from the icy water than to remain bare. Shivering, he said to A Yi, “Liao Qiniang will surely send people down the mountain to look for us. We can’t stay here—we’ll freeze to death before they catch us. Do you know where Jiao Zhilue is?”

A Yi, trembling from the cold, nodded and blew a silver whistle. Their eagles screeched and soared toward the mountain’s base. “Follow this one; it will lead you to Jiao Zhilue. The other eagle will bring Jiao Zhilue to us,” she explained.

Yang Yaozong helped A Yi to her feet. “Good. Let’s go. Walking will warm us.”

Supporting her, they moved downward, guided by the cries of the eagles.

After about fifteen minutes, they met Jiao Zhilue, who was accompanied by more than a dozen Turkic warriors. After exchanging a few words with A Yi, Jiao Zhilue hurriedly began removing his clothes. Another man followed suit, stripping off outer garments and handing them over to Jiao Zhilue, who then passed the clothes to A Yi.

Taking the garments, A Yi led Yang Yaozong into the dense forest.

Within the sheltering woods, A Yi handed Yang Yaozong a fresh set of clothes. “Change quickly.”

Yang Yaozong took the clothes and was about to leave when A Yi shyly grabbed his arm. “Change here. I—I’ll turn my back.”

With wide eyes, Yang Yaozong teased, “Huh? Aren’t you changing too? I don’t mind you seeing me. Aren’t you afraid I’ll see you?”

Flustered, A Yi scolded, “Just change quickly!” Then she turned away.

Watching her retreating figure, Yang Yaozong smiled inexplicably, then turned his back and began changing. Once dressed, he turned around and said to A Yi, who still had her back turned, “I’m done. Your turn. This time, I’ll keep watch.”

A Yi didn’t turn but handed him another set of clothes. “Take off what you’re wearing and put this on instead.”

Yang Yaozong was speechless. “This fits me well.”

“Just take it off!” A Yi snapped. “I won’t wear their clothes!”

Yang Yaozong paused, thinking, Aren’t these all their clothes? Still, he took the clothes from her hand and began changing again.

Once dressed, he handed the clothes he had just worn to A Yi. “Here, for you.”

A Yi turned around, took the clothes, and said, “You should turn away now.”

Yang Yaozong nodded and did so.

Dressed anew, they emerged from the forest. Jiao Zhilue smiled and spoke a string of Turkic words to Yang Yaozong, then appraised him carefully.

Blushing, A Yi looked at Yang Yaozong and whispered, “He says you look much better in our Turkic clothes than in those of the Great Zhou.”

Yang Yaozong smiled dryly to himself. He thought their Turkic attire paled in comparison to the elegance of Great Zhou’s garments.

By the time Yang Yaozong, A Yi, and Jiao Zhilue’s group had ridden far ahead, the sky was just beginning to brighten. Liao Qiniang and her team arrived at the deep pool, ordering two strong swimmers to dive in search of the missing pair but found nothing.

The absence of bodies suggested Yang Yaozong was still alive, which eased Liao Qiniang’s heart somewhat. She dispatched more men down the mountain to search while she stood watching the cascading waterfall, touching the shoulder of the black-haired boy beside her and murmuring, “Will we meet again?”

Night fell. A carriage drawn by four horses thundered toward the north. Jiao Zhilue drove, while Yang Yaozong and A Yi rode inside.

Originally, after descending the mountain, they had agreed to rush straight to Tianjin Prefecture. If they could arrive before Zhang Lie and Se Wu, they would wait at the dock, sparing them worry. Thus, the group rode north swiftly.

But before reaching Jining Prefecture, A Yi suddenly developed a high fever and collapsed from her horse. Yang Yaozong suspected she had caught a chill and hurried with her and Jiao Zhilue to Jining for treatment.

To avoid unnecessary trouble, Yang Yaozong instructed A Yi to send the others ahead to overtake the ship carrying Zhang Lie and Se Wu and wait at the next port to inform them of their escape, giving them peace of mind.

At Jining, they found a physician to treat A Yi. Yang Yaozong was anxious to handle affairs in Tianjing and could not delay further. He advised A Yi to rest there until she recovered, then leave, but she adamantly refused to let him go alone.

After discussion, Yang Yaozong had the doctor prepare extra medicine to take along and asked Jiao Zhilue to buy a carriage, along with bedding to make A Yi comfortable.

Thus, Yang Yaozong tended to A Yi inside the carriage while Jiao Zhilue drove, and the three resumed their journey north.

Yang Yaozong frowned with worry as he looked down at A Yi, who lay inside the carriage. Though medicated, her fever persisted and worsened. Two thick blankets covered her, her hair soaked with sweat, cheeks flushed red, lips parched, breath heavy, and brows furrowed in discomfort.

He wiped the sweat from her forehead and gently roused her, “A Yi, I’ll ask Jiao Zhilue for some alcohol. You have a high fever now; I want to use it to help cool you down.”

A Yi didn’t understand his intent but nodded weakly and uttered a faint word outside the carriage. Jiao Zhilue promptly handed over a wineskin.

Yang Yaozong tasted the wine—it was harsh, but strong enough.

Pouring some into his palm, he massaged A Yi’s forehead, behind her ears, neck, and palms. Afterward, he said, “I’ll also rub your armpits and soles with the wine.” Naturally, he avoided more private areas, mindful not to overstep.

A Yi nodded, and he removed her outer garment, revealing a white silk bellyband embroidered with fragrant grasses, blue sky, and white clouds—a pastoral scene of the vast grasslands. The silk, soaked through by sweat, clung translucent to her well-formed figure, faintly revealing the contours of her full bosom and enticing red nipples. Yet Yang Yaozong was more curious about this Central Plains style garment worn by a Turkic woman than indulgent in appreciating her graceful form.

As he rubbed her armpits, A Yi opened her eyes and met his gaze briefly. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with an unspoken coyness. But only for a moment; she soon closed them again, either too shy to face him or too weary from illness and slipped back into sleep.

After finishing, Yang Yaozong redressed her and covered her with blankets before moving to massage her feet.

Having finished with the wine, he soaked a cloth in cool well water and laid it on A Yi’s forehead, refreshing it every five to ten minutes until dawn. Slowly, her fever abated.

Exhausted, Yang Yaozong sat beside her and drifted into a light sleep.

Not long after, A Yi awoke. Looking at the handsome man before her, whose face was stubbled and wearied, she recalled all they had endured together—the wit, courage, and sacrifices he had shown—and tears welled in her eyes as she smiled with bittersweet affection.

Unable to resist, she reached out to caress his cheek, her heart aching as she thought, If only he were a Turkic man.

Then, with a soft, enchanting smile, she whispered firmly, “Even if he isn’t, what does it matter?”

Yang Yaozong, half-asleep, felt a gentle touch and opened his eyes to see A Yi smiling at him. He sighed in relief, reached out to place his hand on her forehead, and said, “The fever’s finally breaking. In a few days, you should be well. You Turkics pride yourselves on growing up on horseback and being hardy. Look at you—just a chill has you so sick. Look at me.”

“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”

His words were cut off by a sudden sneezing fit, leaving him staring awkwardly at A Yi.

She saw his stunned expression and burst into soft laughter, tears spilling from her eyes as she teased, “Fool.”