Swaying Gladiolus — V

Liu Mingyun looked at him, feeling immensely conflicted about his words. He was a prince, such a dilemma was meant to be beneath him.

But it wasn't. Because he too was a human. And Li Xinyuan understood that well enough.

Noticing the battle going inside Liu Mingyun's head, Li Xinyuan pursed his lips into a thin line, saying nothing as he lowered his eyes, slowly scrutinising the Crown Prince for any sign of untreated injuries that he could busy himself with whilst the latter fought his battle.

Li Xinyuan was a doctor — a surgeon — and as a doctor, he knew more than anyone else—the importance of fighting your own battles.

Regardless of how much support a person could provide another, especially emotional, some battles were just meant to be fought by the recipient of the help, only them and no one else.

And at this moment, Liu Mingyun — the Crown Prince of DàHuǒ — was fighting one such battle with himself.

Li Xinyuan let out a sigh, standing in front of him in silence as he looked up and down the Crown Prince's, handmade by God, body, golden eyes carefully searching for something. Anything, really, which could help him reduce the heaviness of the atmosphere.

Sooner than later, the surgeon's eyes landed on Liu Mingyun's leg. The male lead was standing perfectly fine — at least seemingly — but upon closer inspection, it was evident that his right leg was injured, if the skewed weight distribution on his lower body was anything to go by.

Scanning the injury hidden under the layers of clothes with just his eyes, Li Xinyuan stifled another sigh and slowly reached out his hand to take a hold of Liu Mingyun's. His movements were tentative, deliberate enough to not startle him when their hands touched.

Li Xinyuan looked up, golden eyes flickering to gouge the Crown Prince's reaction, the man didn't react. At all.

Taking it as a sign, the surgeon gently and slowly led him to sit on his bed, he gave the taller man's shoulders a reassuring squeeze as he knelt at his feet, carefully rolling up the hem of his — surprisingly luxurious considering the circumstances — hanfu and trousers.

Then, the surgeon bowed his head, ducking a little closer to get a better look at his injury.

He wasn't expecting a huge injury or anything because it would simply not make sense for Liu Mingyun — the male lead — to have one.

Especially since according to the novel, he was one of the most powerful people in the entire 'world'. In intellect, in martial arts and in cultivation, he was second only to the Emperor himself, ranking above even the Heavenly Demon of the Heavenly Demon Sect who was said to be the strongest man in all of Jianghu.

This had to mean something, right?

As Li Xinyuan had expected, the injury wasn't as bad as most soldiers suffered from. It could even be called a minor wound at a glance.

But upon taking a closer look, the healed scarring quite clearly suggested the no, the injury had not been minor.

It was just Liu Mingyun's high level of cultivation and strong constitution that healed the injury in such a short period of time.

Li Xinyuan swallowed a disgruntled huff that threatened to leave him as he examined that healing wound. He was once again reminded of the sheer gap in the strength of the main character and that of a minor character.

Which in this case were Liu Mingyun and Li Xinyuan.

Grumbling in his heart, Li Xinyuan cleaned his hand before gently hovering his forefinger over the wound, not quite touching it. As he watched the wounds, his finger was engulfed in healing Qi which was a soothing shade of green.

The Qi poured onto the wound, visibly speeding up the healing process until finally, the wound completely closed up, leaving behind only faint scars as a reminder.

Once the work was done, Li Xinyuan simply took out a muslin cloth and carefully wiped away the blood staining the healed area, wiping Liu Mingyun's leg clean.

While the surgeon was pulling his hand away, he felt the Crown Prince jolt, goosebumps rose all over his skin as Li Xinyuan raised his head to look at him.

When their eyes met, crimson red resembling blood clashed with molten gold, two colours matched evenly colliding with one another in a way they were meant to exude warmth.

But at that moment, one two emotions met with one another, the calm in the golden irises meeting the vexation in the crimson ones.

Li Xinyuan looked up at him, kneeling at his feet, hands resting on his thighs as he gave the Crown Prince a reassuring smile.

"Who won?" He asked, voice so incredibly gentle it made Liu Mingyun's chest ache, finding himself unable to breath.

"Who won what?" Carefully, he dared to ask, not taking his eyes off the surgeon, his crimson gaze focusing on the latter with intensity he didn't know he had.

Li Xinyuan moved his hand and gently patted the Crown Prince's knee, a gentle touch, a reassuring one. An encouragement.

"Your Highness," he began, his voice a mere whisper as he gazed at Liu Mingyun, the amber flames of the flickering lamp cast a dim, dancing shadow on the side of his face.

For a moment, Liu Mingyun couldn't help but wonder if Li Xinyuan was even aware of the way his eyes spoke when he looked at him?

Maybe he wasn't. The thought sent a confusing ache in his heart, he ignored the feeling in favour of focusing on what Li Xinyuan had to say.

"Yes?" He asked, voice wavering ever so slightly. He didn't want it to.

By the looks of it, Li Xinyuan understood. Mercifully, the surgeon decided to not call out the weakness in the Crown Prince's voice.

"Your Highness," he repeated, this time with greater firmness in his gentle voice. "The war you are fighting with yourself. Or rather the war, that the human, the man, in you is fighting against the Crown Prince, the general. Who won?" He asked again, frowning slightly.

Liu Mingyun took a deep breath, realisation dawning upon him as he closed his eyes, taking some time to compose himself.

Li Xinyuan had realised the cause of the dilemma in his heart even before he had. How surprising.

When he opened his eyes, he bowed his head, gazing at the surgeon's ethereal face for a short moment before opening his mouth to speak.

"The man, the man has won."

"What a relief," the surgeon broke into a smile as he commented, putting his hands on his knees as he stood up. "A relief, Your Highness."

"Why?" Liu Mingyun asked, curiously tilting his head to the side as he watched the surgeon walk to the flickering lamp and add some oil in it.

"Why not?" Li Xinyuan returned his question with another, keeping his voice calm, soft. "Why would this one not be relieved to hear that the man in Your Highness has won?"

Liu Mingyun fell silent, feeling a little perplexed and at a loss for words. It took him a while to regain the order of his thoughts.

"Is it not wrong for This Prince to be clouded by emotions?" He asked, feeling like a child lost in an impenetrable darkness.

Upon hearing those words, Li Xinyuan smiled to himself, bowing his head as he watched the lamp before slowly turning around to face the Crown Prince.

On the man's face — the mighty, mighty man's face — he saw confusion. He saw the man getting lost in the haze of emotions he couldn't understand.

Li Xinyuan sighed, smile dropping a little as he shook his head. This was the life of royalty, unable to even decipher his own emotions.

It pained him to realise that.

"Xinyuan," Liu Mingyun called out to him, even more nonplussed at his silence. "Why?" He questioned, carefully.

But Li Xinyuan could hear it quite clearly. It was more a question for the Crown Prince himself than for Li Xinyuan.

The surgeon walked back to him and tentatively sat by his side. "Your Highness," he began, not quite knowing where to start. "Feeling lost, feeling guilty, feeling hollow. It is all a part of being a human. A part of grieving as we do. Your Highness, in all your strength, in all your loftiness, you are but a human."

Liu Mingyun looked at him, body turned slightly to face him, the flames of the lamp danced in his red eyes as he sat beside Li Xinyuan, silent and waiting.

"And?" After a long, tense silence, he questioned, voice a touch too soft, a touch too lost. "This Prince shouldn't be…"

"Grieving?" Li Xinyuan finished his words, a question on the tip of his tongue. Canting his head slightly, he turned to face him. "Why, Your Highness? Is a Prince not allowed to grieve the loss of his men?"

Liu Mingyun fell silent, not knowing what to say. So he sat, waiting for Li Xinyuan to continue speaking.

Li Xinyuan looked at him, a faint, almost sympathetic smile dancing on his lips, his expression clearly rueful.