Reborn To Be The Imperial Consort [BL]-Chapter 175: Preening Black Dahlia — XVI

Sniffle. Sniffle.

The first sense to return from the state of unconsciousness is usually hearing. And it seemed they were not wrong.

Liu Mingyun’s lips twitched, fatigue rolling off his person in waves. Minutely, he tried to move his hands, and failed.

Then, the barely conscious man tried to speak, or even just make a sound.

Failure, yet again.

Though his senses returned one after the other, the ability to move still impaired, however, Liu Mingyun heard someone sniffling by his side.

From the sound of it, he could conjecture the person striving hard to keep their tears at bay.

Distantly, he entertained the idea of them being Li Xinyuan. But that seemed too far-fetched of a wish.

He was at war—

Oh.

Liu Mingyun’s hand twitched, throat bobbing in effort to speak.

Where was he?

The room around him reeked of one too many medicinal herbs. The scent of them was overwhelming.

The last he could remember, the Crown Prince had been flung down from a cliff.

This must be a clinic, lest the chances of his survival, much less consciousness were dismal.

With great effort, the Crown Prince tried, once more, to move his hands. Heavy as lead, the said limb gave just another pathetic twitch.

Gasp.

Liu Mingyun’s eyelids jumped. Whoever it was, they had seen his little movements.

"Your Highness." It was a choked whisper that made his heart climb to his throat.

They knew his identity.

Mustering what little strength was left in his body, the Crown Prince forced his eyes to open.

Who was it?

Slowly, the man’s eyes fluttered open, vision a blur of bleary darkness and the softest hint of light from a candle.

It struck his eyes, shooting a painful throb straight to his head.

Despite himself, Liu Mingyun made a sound, somewhere between a wince and a groan. It was as if someone had run a sword through his skull.

Li Xinyuan jerked at the noise, hurrying to extinguish the candle as he did so. How foolish of him!

Internally admonishing himself, the surgeon assumed his place by the Crown Prince’s bedside once more, body trembling with something he could not quite pin.

The tightly clenched hands on his lap shook, palm still cold even after hours had come to pass since the surgery. The surgeon could feel the biting chill crawl up and down his spine, like a hoard of arachnids.

As he gazed down at Liu Mingyun, whose consciousness was slowly returning, the surgeon’s clammy hands twitched.

He longed to touch the Crown Prince, to help him up, and to make certain for himself that this was not some twisted dream biting at his heels.

It was fear. Fear that he felt, that suffocated the air in his lungs. Fear of losing Liu Mingyun. Of losing the youth he had come to love.

Taking in a deep breath, Li Xinyuan opened his mouth, lips quivering. His voice was thick, throat tight around a lump he could not swallow.

"Your Highness," he leaned closer, tracing the contours of the Crown Prince’s face with trembling fingers.

The lines appeared inexplicably soft in the room devoid of light.

"It is I, Li Xinyuan."

Under his touch, the surgeon felt Liu Mingyun jerk, almost as if he flinched.

The surgeon’s chest tightened in pain, the sting heavy as it settled in the pit of his stomach.

He bit his lip, throat bobbing, tight and sore. His eyes felt hot, breath stuttering yet again.

And suddenly, he could see little more than a blur of his betrothed lying on the bed.

"Xin... ’er?"

Li Xinyuan choked and leaned forward some more. Against his better judgement, the surgeon clasped Liu Mingyun’s hand in his own.

It felt lukewarm now.

Even as the man lay before him, breathing and conscious, Li Xinyuan could not erase the image of him bleeding out on the operation table.

"Yes," he breathed out, warm tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. Resting his forehead against the Crown Prince’s hand, he sighed shakily an inadvertently sob escaping him. "It is me."

Relief flooded him as the tears flowed, warm and needed.

Liu Mingyun’s vision cleared very slowly. His chest squeezed tight when he felt the warm wetness of Li Xinyuan’s tears.

"Do not..." He whispered, voice broken at seams. "Weep."

"How can I not?"

"... Why?"

"Do you know in what state I was made to see you, My Liege?"

"Was... It... Such a... Travesty...? The sight of me?"

Li Xinyuan sobbed, weeping softly as he pressed his eyes on the back of his betrothed’s hand.

"How could it be?"

Liu Mingyun could not withhold a chuckle. Even when it pained him to do so.

Finally, Li Xinyuan could control his emotions no more. He could feel himself break, the dam keeping his heart at bay collapsing to rubble.

Before Liu Mingyun could really take in Li Xinyuan’s disheveled appearance, a warmth pressed against his forehead.

"Please..." The Crown Prince heard Li Xinyuan whimper. "Do not let me see you in this state again."

Liu Mingyun let out a shaking exhale.

He did not want to make a promise he would not be able to keep.

His lips moved, soundless as he tried to speak. Frustration seeped into his dazed features, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as pain made itself known throughout his body.

He tried, with little success, a few more times to speak, before ultimately forfeiting to the shortcomings of his body.

Li Xinyuan had pressed his face into the Crown Prince’s hand, rendering him unable to provide any comfort he would want to.

Rarely had Liu Mingyun ever come to regret any decisions he had made on his own. Yet here he was, unable to move as his betrothed allowed his grief-stricken tears to flow unrestrained.

Rue painted itself anew as the Crown Prince struggled to scarcely move his free hand, the feeble limb shaking as he reached.

The searing pain of his flesh seemed so greatly insignificant in comparison to the tears Li Xinyuan had allowed to cascade.

Captive to the emotions that overrode reason, Liu Mingyun — ill-advised to move — turned to his side, resting his hand gingerly on Li Xinyuan’s head.

"Do not cry." He murmured, only a whisper away from beseeching. "Your tears seem are more painful than any flesh wound, Xin’er."

Li Xinyuan stiffened, unable to move for a long moment. His brain had come to an abrupt halt. He could see a chasm of dilemma before himself.

If he moved, he could risk aggravating the Crown Prince’s stitched wounds. But if he did not, it would aggravate them regardless, for Liu Mingyun himself had moved.

"Don’t touch me."

Those words came out harsher than intended.

He could feel Liu Mingyun’s kind hand on his head freeze. His heart dropped at that.

Li Xinyuan had not meant it like that. His mind screamed. I did not mean to word it so. The words are all wrong!

But his face remained stiff, drenched in tears and golden eyes surrounded in red.

"... Forgive me, Xinyuan."

No. Please, don’t say that.