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The Xianle trio were having a rough time at Taicang Mountain. Something about the cold seeping into their bones was making it hard to adjust to the oncoming winter. Water took longer to boil. The temperature was dropping faster than they could remember how to layer their clothing. Mu Qing was having to frantically repair their winter clothes that had been avoidantly stuffed away from the previous winter in all kinds of sorry states. What fruits and vegetables were in season changed and their palates had to adjust to different meals. Everyone sniffled with red noses, united by complaints at their morning training sessions about how cold it was.
Xie Lian was certainly feeling the cold. He dreaded getting out of bed in the mornings. Leaving his bed today made him particularly nauseous. It was simply too early and too cold, an unpleasant combination. He smiled and kept his spirits up anyway. Feng Xin and Mu Qing needed it.
"Of course you slept well, you took the spare blanket!" Feng Xin accused behind Xie Lian, his voice echoing in the hallway as they walked to training.
"I got to it first. Did you want me to cut it in half so we could share?" Mu Qing replied aloofly. It seemed he was becoming colder with the weather. Xie Lian's stomach turned. His head felt wavy, if that were even a way to describe it. He grimaced, waiting for the right moment to intervene.
"You've had the spare blanket every night this week!" Feng Xin insisted.
"You've had the blanket some nights, you just kicked it off in your sleep." Mu Qing assured him.
"Bullshit! You've been stealing it!"
"From the floor, after you kick it off."
"That's stealing!" Feng Xin cried angrily. Poor Feng Xin had dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, and it was clearly getting to him if his mood was anything to go by. Xie Lian had given him a box of floral tea to drink before bed, but it didn't seem to help.
Mu Qing rolled his eyes. "Oh, give it a rest." He sighed.
"The fuck did you just say to me!?" Feng Xin snapped. Mu Qing had probably just meant to tell Feng Xin to stop, but in his touchy state, Feng Xin thought he was intentionally mocking his insomnia. Mu Qing snorted at Feng Xin's outburst, which only made Feng Xin madder. "Like it's so easy! You smug bastard-"
Xie Lian finally jumped in, stopping in his tracks and speaking gently.
"There are supposed to be two spare blankets. I'll chase up the other one." He promised, patting Feng Xin's shoulder reassuringly. Feng Xin was still seething.
"Did you hear what he said!?" He cried.
"Put those feelings into your training. It'll make you perform even better." Xie Lian advised with a smile. Feng Xin sighed irritably and nodded. At least for now, there would be no fights.
Despite how early and cold it was, everyone was putting their all into sparring. Feng Xin was particularly fired up, and Mu Qing blazed with controlled fierceness that he put into precise attacks. Xie Lian was partnered with another talented disciple, but he felt awful. He had thought it was just early morning fatigue making him nauseous, but it hadn't gone away. Fighting was making it exponentially worse.
While Xie Lian moved with strength and swiftness as if his sword weighed nothing, on the inside, his stomach felt like it was being wrung out. Xie Lian wouldn't let it make his fighting any less than perfect. It was a learning opportunity to fight with a handicap like this. There might be times when he has to fight while sick or injured, so it would be useful to practice in such a state. Even as the nausea rose up his chest, tickling his throat with queasiness, Xie Lian endured and put his everything into fighting. He already suspected what was about to happen, but there was no point quitting early. He figured he might as well push himself to his limit and prove he could fight in just about any state imaginable.
In practice, that stopped feeling like such a noble concept when Xie Lian deflected a blow and staggered away, a gag tearing from his throat. His time was up, and heads were turning as he dropped his sword, stumbled away and caught himself against a tree. Feng Xin and Mu Qing were the first to drop their weapons and rush towards Xie Lian from where they were buried in the crowd.
As the adrenalin of the fight wore off, the queasiness hit him tenfold. He was out of breath, sweating and trembling, too dizzy and weak to stand. Xie Lian crumpled to the ground, curling in on himself with another gag. Feng Xin came to a stop next to him, and shortly after, Mu Qing. The sparring session had fallen silent while everyone watched on in alarm.
Feng Xin crouched beside Xie Lian and spoke firmly. "Breathe, breathe. Deep breaths." Xie Lian tried to take a deep breath, but only belched up a mouthful of sick into the grass, coughing and retching. Feng Xin quickly gathered his hair and held it out of harm's way. "You're okay." He soothed. A third hand lightly touched down on Xie Lian's back, gently rubbing it up and down while Xie Lian lurched. He heaved hard, spewing violently. Mu Qing muttered in disgust, but his hand stayed on Xie Lian's back.
The state preceptor caught up to them. "Your highness..." He fretted above them. "You really gave it your all, but you're far fitter than this. This isn't like you..." Mu Qing reached past Feng Xin and felt Xie Lian's forehead.
"I can't tell if he has a fever, he could be hot from training." Mu Qing reported calmly. He quickly snatched his hand away as Xie Lian coughed up another torrent of sick.
"I don't think he's well." The state preceptor muttered.
Xie Lian gasped on his hands and knees. He was drooling and trembling uncontrollably. "It's okay, get it all up..." Feng Xin murmured. Xie Lian tried to take deep breaths through the sour taste in his mouth. He longed to get away from all the watchful eyes of his peers, if he could just stop being sick for long enough to flee. Waiting between bouts, on the cusp of another gag or heave but not quite there yet, was agonisingly awkward.
Xie Lian spluttered and choked up another wave of sick. Above him, Feng Xin and Mu Qing began scheming. "Take him to bed after this?" Mu Qing whispered.
"Infirmary." Feng Xin insisted quietly.
"Surely he would feel better if we took him to his room instead of that nasty infirmary." Mu Qing objected. "When have you ever felt better from being in the infirmary?"
"Fine," Feng Xin hissed. "We'll bring a doctor to him."
As Xie Lian retched violently, he couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly his servants came to an agreement. "You've got him covered?" The state preceptor checked. Once Mu Qing and Feng Xin assured him they would take good care of the crown prince, the state preceptor turned and ordered everyone to resume training. Xie Lian was relieved to have all eyes off him. He burped loudly, drooling over the unsightly puddle of vomit in the grass.
Xie Lian moaned queasily. "Disgusting...."
"I know, it's not pleasant." Feng Xin hushed. "Feeling any better?"
Xie Lian cleared his throat. "Not really.... I think I'm done, though...." He uttered hoarsely.
"Do you want to go back to your room, or do you need a minute?" Feng Xin asked.
"Wait...." Xie Lian whispered briefly.
Xie Lian sat back on his heels and Feng Xin let his hair down. He lied the side of his head against the tree beside him and closed his eyes. What a nightmare this morning bad become. Xie Lian didn't know what hit him. Hadn't he just been a little nauseous when he woke up? How did some simple sparring send him so far over the edge? The cold air was making the sweat on Xie Lian's face icy.
The three of them waited for some time before Xie Lian realised he wasn't going to feel any better and would have to travel back to his room in this state. He dreaded getting up, as if staying perfectly still on the ground would make him invisible and keep him safe from scrutiny. Xie Lian announced his readiness to depart by weakly pushing off from the tree. Feng Xin and Mu Qing smoothly took one arm each and pulled Xie Lian to his feet as if they had done this many times before. Xie Lian was surprised at how weak and heavy his body felt. If his servants hadn't been supporting him, he would have sank straight back to the ground.
"Easy, your highness," Feng Xin guided. "Just take it slowly." Xie Lian knew he would be getting more stares right now as he ambled away from the crime scene supported by Feng Xin and Mu Qing. The privacy of his palace couldn't come soon enough. Walking did become easier the further they travelled, but his stomach threatened to spill again at any moment. Xie Lian was trembling by the time he lied back down. His servants began working at his armour.
Mu Qing snapped his head up and scolded Feng Xin. "What are you doing? Go get a bucket before he pukes everywhere." Feng Xin rushed away. Xie Lian shut his eyes and tried to ignore the dreadful thud of the bucket beside his bed as it awaited his churning stomach's contents. "Keep focusing on treatment while I undress him." Mu Qing ordered. He certainly seemed to be in his element right now.
Once Xie Lian was in his bedclothes, he pulled the blanket up to his chin and curled up, closing his eyes and clutching his stomach. Feng Xin had left to fetch a doctor, but he left in his wake a towel, a pitcher of water, and a wet cloth in a bowl. Mu Qing sighed in exasperation. "Not even any ginger tea, the damn fool. If you roll over, I can braid your hair out of your face. You'll look less miserable then, too." He suggested. Xie Lian rolled over, turning his back to Mu Qing. With the way his stomach was clenching, it was better they got this done sooner rather than later.
Mu Qing didn't simply braid Xie Lian's hair. He made the experience into something pleasant, gently combing his fingers through his hair as he went. It was like a dash of sugar in a bitter drink. "That's quite a braid." Feng Xin remarked when he got back. "The doctor might be a while, but he'll be here as soon as possible."
Mu Qing sighed. "Who would have thought that after all your drama this morning his highness would be the one who got sick? He didn't complain one bit."
"Oh, get off my dick!" Feng Xin snapped. He hovered anxiously while Mu Qing gently rubbed Xie Lian's back.
"His highness has always been humble." Feng Xin added in a softer voice. "Much to his own detriment."
"You could learn a thing or two from him." Mu Qing remarked. He had begun idly stroking Xie Lian's elaborately braided hair. Whether or not he realised he was doing it, Xie Lian wasn't sure.
"You could learn to shut the fuck up." Feng Xin growled. Xie Lian had no idea what to do. He really didn't have the energy to mediate their bickering right now, yet it was so grating on his ears.
Just then, his stomach twisted precariously. A whimper escaped Xie Lian. He really didn't want to be sick again, once was unpleasant enough. Twice could only mean that it wouldn't stop and was something more ominous than a mere moment of nausea. His accidental utterance turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because Feng Xin and Mu Qing's attention immediately snapped back to their ailing crown prince. "Hey, it's okay..." Feng Xin assured him softly.
"Try to relax," Mu Qing murmured. "Don't tense up, your stomach will only fight harder against it."
Feng Xin crouched beside the bed, picking up the bucket in anticipation of the next bout. Xie Lian moaned sadly, but it was cut off by a gag. He quickly rolled over. The bucket was ready for him to spit out a sour mouthful of bile. Fortunately, Mu Qing's braids were proving to be effective at keeping his hair out of his face. "Poor thing..." Feng Xin murmured, not complaining despite the unpleasant task of catching Xie Lian's vomit. For most nobles, it would be insulting to be spoken to like this, but Xie Lian had requested long ago that whenever he was unwell, he wanted to be spoken to like a child. Mu Qing found this harder to do, but he managed to be soothing all the same.
"Let it out if you need to." He advised, rubbing slow circles into his back. "You'll feel better once it's over."
"So horrible-" Xie Lian lamented before he choked up a wave of sick, retching loudly.
"That's the way..." Feng Xin encouraged gently, wincing at the awful splattering sound. The pair waited quietly, comforting Xie Lian as he was sick.
"He still doesn't have a fever." Mu Qing observed thoughtfully. "Isn't it quite rare to be vomiting and not have a fever?"
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Feng Xin placated. Then, probably receiving some kind of look from Mu Qing, added "We'll keep an eye on him." Xie Lian knew they were cooperating for his sake, and he was grateful. He gagged and coughed up one final stream of sick before his heaves became empty.
"I think you're done." Mu Qing muttered. Feng Xin passed Xie Lian a cup of water to rinse his mouth out. Even after that, drool consistently clung to his lips.
"Feng Xin, the cloth." Mu Qing requested.
"I got that for his forehead."
"He doesn't have a fever anyway." Xie Lian was surprised by a wet cloth to the face. Mu Qing gently wiped away the mess around his mouth. Xie Lian lied down, shakily pressing a hand to his mouth.
Feng Xin cleaned the bucket and brought it back, then joined Mu Qing in his bedside vigil. He climbed up beside Mu Qing. "Here, I'll show you another way," Feng Xin declared, and instead of stubbornly ignoring him, Mu Qing made no objections and took his hand off Xie Lian's back. Feng Xin's hand began to pat Xie Lian's back in a slow rhythm. "The repetitiveness is calming and puts you to sleep." He explained. Mu Qing remained silent, attentively absorbing this information. His delicate hand switched to stroking Xie Lian's hair.
Exhausted, Xie Lian closed his eyes and rested while his servants spoiled him with their soothing touches. He could have fallen asleep like this if it weren't for the crippling nausea ravaging his system. Better yet was the soft, civil discussion taking place between Feng Xin and Mu Qing as they planned how to care for him, even figuring out night shifts to ensure Xie Lian would be tended to at night. It seemed there was actually something that came before their animosity towards each other.