Chapter 37: Best Friend or Bodyguard?

After dinner, I decided—wisely—not to ask either of them that question.

Because let's be honest. If they were already whispering "don't tell anyone," asking them directly would just force them to lie to my face. And I knew myself well enough to know I would not handle that with grace. Or silence.

So I chose ignorance. Blissful, willfully selective ignorance.

Because heartbreak? Not on the menu. And definitely not served alongside losing the first girl best friend I'd made in this world. Not counting Xiaohua, of course—who was probably worried sick back in Luyang, pacing the palace like a tiny whirlwind of loyalty and bubble tea energy.

Instead, I checked in on the patients, made sure no one had spontaneously died or started glowing ominously, and finally headed to bed.

Sleep, unfortunately, was a joke.

I tossed. I turned. I mentally rewrote ten different conversations that hadn't happened. I even tried counting medicinal herbs in my head like a desperate apothecary sheep-counter.

Nothing worked.

For the next few days, we all settled into a routine: check patients. Clean wounds. Cook whatever didn't smell like despair. Repeat. The plague was relentless, but at least it hadn't gotten worse. We were managing. Barely.

What did get worse?

My relationship with Ming Yu and Yuling.

Somehow, my two favorite people decided we were now in a low-key tug-of-war—and I was the rope.

Every time I tried to talk to Ming Yu alone—poof—Yuling would magically appear. Like a ghost with excellent timing and an endless to-do list. "Mei Lin, come help me sort bandages." "Mei Lin, can you check this fever?" "Mei Lin, I think you're better at slicing dried mushrooms than Advisor Liu."

Girl. Please.

And then there was Ming Yu. Who, to my surprise, was not having it.

He never raised his voice. Never got rude. But a certain edge started creeping into his usually soft, courtly charm. The more Yuling pulled me away, the more Ming Yu pulled back.

"Mei Lin prefers jasmine tea," Yuling would say, smiling sweetly as she handed me a cup.

"She drinks chrysanthemum when she's anxious," Ming Yu would respond without looking up, like he wasn't even trying to start a fight but absolutely was.

Yuling started bringing up my marriage to Wei Wuxian like a trump card.

"Mei Lin is Prince Wei's consort," she said one afternoon, after Ming Yu offered to walk me back to my tent.

I froze.

So did he.

The air between them went still—sharp, crackling. Ming Yu's hand curled into a fist at his side.

"She belongs to him," Yuling added softly, almost regretfully. But the implication landed like a knife anyway.

Ming Yu looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time in days. His eyes weren't angry. Just… annoyed. And tired.

"I am protecting her according to the Prince's order," he replied, his voice low and tightly controlled.

And I? I stood there with a bowl of medicinal soup and a growing headache, caught in a very awkward, very emotionally loaded game of keep-away where the prize was apparently me.

Still, somewhere in the middle of all this territorial tension, something clicked.

If Yuling and Ming Yu really had been lovers—if they still had feelings for each other—wouldn't they want to be alone? Have secret heart-to-hearts behind curtains or take slow walks under cherry trees or something? Not… this awkward three-person plague sitcom.

They weren't avoiding each other. They were orbiting me.

So maybe… maybe that my theory was wrong.

The tension. The side-eyes. The possessive tug-of-war with me in the middle like some mildly overcooked dumpling no one wanted to share but also wouldn't give up.

Since we had limited space, Yuling and I had been sharing a tent from the start. Ming Yu had his own just a few paces away. Normally, I loved our little nighttime routine—whispers in the dark, quiet laughter, shared stories and encouragement. But tonight? My nerves were frayed, and my patience was a soggy leaf.

Once we settled down in our tent and I made sure no one was eavesdropping, I sat up and blurted, "Yuling, what is going on with you and Ming Yu? Do you hate each other or something?"

Yuling gave me a look like I'd asked whether the sky was up. "He's being inappropriate with you. Can't you see that?"

I blinked, playing dumb. "What do you mean?"

She narrowed her eyes. "He's in love with you."

Ah.

There it was. The bomb.

My mouth opened, then closed again. I had no clue where to even begin. Should I lie? Divert? Cry? Fake a sudden plague symptom?

"Well… his feelings are his own," I said cautiously. "He's allowed to have them, isn't he?"

Yuling scoffed, the sound sharp. "Please. You're in love with him too. You think I don't see it?"

I froze.

Crap.

How did she know so fast? I had been so careful. Not even Xiaohua—loyal, nosy, omnipresent Xiaohua—had said anything. Or maybe she had noticed but just never said a word. Was I obvious? Oh no. Was I one of those people who thought they were subtle but actually radiated romantic doom like a walking drama protagonist?

Panic. Full-blown panic.

Yuling's voice softened, but it didn't lose its edge. "Mei Lin… you're Prince Wei's consort. I'm trying to protect you. If anyone catches wind of this, it won't be just a scandal—it could cost you your life."

Oh, if she only knew.

If she only knew what kind of scandal I'd already walked into the palace with.

"Yuling," I said after a beat, my voice quieter now. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I consider you my best friend. Something about you just… clicked with me. I don't know if you feel the same way."

She went still. Her gaze looked a little disappointed?

Then slowly, her expression shifted. Softer. More vulnerable. Still guarded, but… something cracked open.

"I haven't been close to anyone in a long time," she said quietly, choosing each word like it might betray her if she wasn't careful. "You're the first person I've felt… happy to be around again."

My chest tightened.

That was all I needed.

"Yuling," I said, steady now. "Can I trust you?"

Her eyes flicked to mine. "Of course."

So I told her everything.

Well—almost everything.

I told her I wasn't Wei Wuxian's real consort. That I agreed to the role to help him gain power. That I didn't belong to this world. That I might—emphasis on might—be the reincarnation of some kind of goddess with powers I barely understood. 

I left out Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's relationship. That wasn't mine to tell. That was sacred ground.

But I did say one thing, clear and honest:

"I only agreed to be his consort… because it gave me a way to stay close to Ming Yu."

Yuling didn't move. She just sat there, the lantern light casting shadows across her face, her expression unreadable.

I waited.

Would she scream? Call me a traitor? March straight to Wei Wuxian and slap him with the full force of palace protocol?

Instead, after a long silence, she nodded once.

"I see."

Just that.

But it was enough to let me breathe again.