Ling's Weakness

Chapter 38

The night was calm, but inside the palace, tension still lingered. Ping sat by Ling's bedside, her fingers gripping his hand tightly. He had fallen asleep again, his body still weak from the infection. His breaths were steady but shallow, and every so often, his brows furrowed as if he was trapped in a nightmare.

Ping let out a small sigh, her eyes never leaving his face. She had never seen him like this before—so vulnerable, so… human. The terrifying Shadow King, feared by many, was now lying before her, fragile and in pain.

Mei entered the room quietly, carrying a bowl of herbal medicine. "My lady, the physician said he should drink this once he wakes up."

Ping nodded. "Leave it here. I'll make sure he takes it."

Mei hesitated, glancing at Ling before looking back at Ping. "You haven't slept, my lady."

"I'm fine," Ping murmured, brushing Ling's damp hair from his forehead.

Mei sighed but didn't push further. "Call me if you need anything."

As Mei left, the room fell silent again. Ping traced small circles on the back of Ling's hand absentmindedly. She still couldn't believe how close she had come to losing him.

A soft groan escaped Ling's lips, and his fingers twitched. Ping straightened immediately, watching as his crimson eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Ping…" His voice was rough, barely a whisper.

She leaned forward. "I'm here."

Ling blinked, adjusting to the dim lighting. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through him, making him wince. Ping quickly placed her hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back down.

"Don't be stubborn," she scolded. "You're still weak."

He exhaled heavily, his gaze locking onto hers. "How long?"

"Three days," she answered softly. "You had a fever. The witch's cure worked, but your body needs time to recover."

Ling let out a slow breath. "And the kingdom?"

"Jian is handling everything in your absence," Ping reassured him. "For once, focus on yourself."

A small smirk tugged at his lips. "Are you giving me orders now?"

Ping rolled her eyes. "Someone has to."

Ling chuckled, but the movement sent another sharp pain through his body. He let out a small groan, his hand instinctively reaching for his side.

Ping's heart clenched. She reached for the medicine and brought it to his lips. "Drink this. It'll help."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're feeding me now?"

"Do you want to get better or not?" she huffed.

Ling smirked but obediently drank the medicine. The bitterness made him grimace slightly, but he said nothing.

Ping set the bowl aside and adjusted his blankets. "You should rest."

Instead of closing his eyes, Ling kept watching her. "You stayed with me all this time?"

She swallowed, avoiding his gaze. "Someone had to take care of you."

Ling's smirk faded into something softer. "Thank you."

Ping didn't know how to respond. Instead, she reached for his hand again, holding it gently.

For the first time, Ling didn't pull away. Instead, his fingers curled around hers, holding on as if she was his anchor.

Neither of them spoke. But in that quiet moment, something between them shifted.