the cat in emperor's arms

autumn rain

His chin rested on the top of her head, and he gently patted her back.

"Little darling, don’t cry."

Her tears filled him with immense regret.

He wished he could harshly punish the cold, unfeeling version of himself that had spoken earlier.

But Ming Luomeng buried her head in the man's chest, curling up like a little cat with its ears tucked back, refusing to lift her head no matter how much he tried to soothe her.

Her dark hair brushed against him, and the coldness of her tears seeped into his neck.

Pei Shenyu's throat became even more parched.

“I didn’t mean to scold you,” he said softly. “I was just too anxious.”

The tears in the corner of her eyes tore at him over and over again. In the end, Pei Shenyu could only suppress his heartache, gently patting her back and whispering tender words of comfort again and again.

In the end, little cats respond better to kindness than to harshness, and her emotions gradually began to settle down.

After taking her medicine, she fell into a drowsy sleep.

The imperial physician noted that the consort had a cold constitution and would need someone to watch over her carefully throughout the night, wiping her down with cool water and placing cloths on her forehead.

If the fever subsided by morning, then there was no cause for serious concern.

In truth, Ming Luomeng had not used too much ice willfully. For someone in good health, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But her frail body couldn’t withstand much cold and was easily invaded by the slightest chill.

As night fell, her fever worsened.

Pei Shenyu, however, didn’t delegate the task to anyone else. He ordered the servants and physicians to wait outside the hall while he personally stayed inside to care for her.

If someone else were here, they might not have been able to manage this disobedient little cat.

And since he wasn’t going to sleep peacefully that night anyway, he figured he might as well keep watch himself.

Moreover, the warnings whispered to him by Shangxiao earlier made him more vigilant. If he truly bore the dragon's spirit as emperor and could protect her, he would deeply regret not having watched over her day and night from the beginning.

Ming Luomeng’s raven hair was slightly damp, her lips pale, resembling a fledgling bird without security, curled up beneath its wing.

Her delicate face was as pale as snow, like a flower that had wilted from too much sun.

Pei Shenyu placed a cool cloth on her forehead, his heart tightening even more.

With her fever so high, she was already somewhat delirious. Around midnight, Ming Luomeng furrowed her brows and mumbled in her dazed state:

“Thirsty…”

Pei Shenyu ordered the servants to bring water.

When the water arrived, he carefully lifted her and let her lean against him.

Ming Luomeng, like a helpless kitten, could only weakly nestle in the crook of his arm.

Pei Shenyu half-cradled her in his arms, then carefully reached for the cup on the table. Her clothes clung to her curves, and her dark hair draped over him, accentuating her delicate beauty.

But the man’s focus was elsewhere; he was solely intent on giving her water.

Still, the seriously ill rarely stay still.