Toward the end of August, two events swept through the capital and all its environs — in China, a few days before the wedding, unknown people tried to poison Princess Chenghuan, and they would have done their job if Lady Chenghuan had not drunk the poisoned drink to the bottom. However, the drink was enough for her to go to bed with a fever. The second news was that Prince Wang Han, trying to suppress the rebels on the border against his regime, was severely wounded and also was in bed, in fever, in a condition no better than his bride.
Rumours and conjectures crawled across all limits — they also talked about the coming war because the number of those dissatisfied with the expansion of the land borders by The Prince was growing and about the deliberate murder, which was not carried out only by the will of the angel, but which intended to frighten the same Prince and his political plans.
No one believed that such a kind and sweet Chenghuan could, even being in the nobility, annoy someone, for both she and her family were very good and respected. Therefore, the attempt was decisively the fault of Wang Han's policy in order to scare him and force him to change the course of business. But the most ominous rumours spread from Cho Hak Che, who inadvertently blurted out the assumption that the Prince himself poisoned the bride because he told him that the Prince did not wish to marry anymore, and in such a simple way, he decided to get rid of her. And unfortunately, it was these most ominous rumours that most willingly picked up languages and spread among the people.
Only once, the people thought, the Princess was poisoned, and she remained alive. After such an event, The Prince could become even more suspicious and go to the neighboring provinces and landowners, insurgents against his regimes, and there, one glance — and people go against people, brother goes against brother, and the war is on the horizon.
Terrible and chaotic were the talks, and clearly, they flew to the Li-en family faster than the arrow. Heonui, as soon as she found out about Wang Han's situation, immediately begged her father to let her go and Mimi to look after him. It was said that he was lying on fire, and his wounds festered despite the efforts of two doctors who spent day and night at his bedside.
Mimi was terribly opposed to going to him, but this time, Heonui did not seem to worry about her pleas and told her that if she wanted to stay with her parents, then Heonui would go herself. Her expression was so serious when she uttered these words that Mimi obediently got ready to go on a journey with her, and two days later, they entered the territory of Wang Han.
They were met by only one maid, who said that it was impossible for the master, that he was delirious and had a doctor, to which Heonui said that she would see the Prince without fail and now, and ordered Mimi, who had not uttered a word all the way, to go to the kitchen and cook for the Prince a hot surprise.
When Heonui ran into Wang Han's room, scaring his doctor into a stutter, she couldn't believe her eyes.
Wang Han lay on the bed, all wet with sweat. His beautiful face was distorted by pain and visions. He twirled and muttered obscurities. She hadn't met him all summer, but now that she had a chance to see him, she saw him like this. Tears welled up in Heonui's eyes.
"Leave me with him, would you," she ordered the doctor, taking away from him a wet rag, which he changed and applied to Wang Han's forehead.
The doctor bowed and, asking to call him in case of any danger, left the chambers. Heonui rushed to the blazing fire of fever and sobbed.
His injury was very serious. His greatcoat had been lying on the floor for many an evening, soaked in blood, and at least someone would have removed it but did not. He was lying on the bed, half-covered, and his wound, despite the sling, was almost completely naked and stank of rotten meat. The Princess watched this terrible picture in horror, and her breath was knocked out just like Wang Han's. Fat flies flew in his chambers and tormented him greatly. Candles burned and burned out everywhere, and the room would have been arranged so that he was all ready to be buried. The curtains were open, but they didn't let in any light. Dust accumulated on the windowsills and on the tables and flew disgustingly in the air. The Prince was clearly always unconscious. Several trays of food were rotting on his bedside table, and Heonui took them to the window in disgust, angry that the servants who did not even bother to take away the food that was never eaten.
"Ah, dear Wang Han! Please, do not leave me! It is Heonui! I arrived as soon as I could. Do you hear me, Your Royal Highness? It is me, Heonui!"
But Wang Han did not answer. His consciousness was somewhere far away, and what appeared to his inner gaze was clearly terrible. He tossed and moaned.
Heonui, changing the white rag on his hot forehead and not letting go of his hand from hers, began to pray, swallowing her tears.
And she prayed so for his life for another eight days and nights. Such a severe fever, in which Wang Han suffered and wailed, should have been a decisive end for him, but his spirit was stronger, and one morning, when everyone in the house was losing hope, he opened his eyes, inflamed and suffering, and his lungs exhaled so much that there was no doubt that he would live.