"Brothers, retreat!" The assassin leader knew that even if they fought to the death, they could not complete their mission today, so he ordered everyone to withdraw.
Upon receiving the retreat signal, the assassins no longer lingered in battle and scattered in all directions. Many who were slow to escape were intercepted by the military troops that followed. The soldiers drew their bows, and arrows rained down, with some assassins who had fled into alleys being shot full of arrows like hedgehogs.
………………
The past few days in the Prince of Chu's palace had been under a continuous low pressure. The servants walked carefully, not daring to make a sound, afraid of being caught and beaten by their master, who was in a bad mood.
Ever since the Crown Princess was poisoned a few days ago and carried back, the faces of Prince Pu and Prince Yi were overcast. Young Master Qin stayed by the Crown Princess's bedside, never leaving her side.
Moqi would coax the young heir daily, only coming to visit the Jinhua Hall when he was asleep.
"Is that useless Doctor Zhou capable of anything?" The Eleventh Prince raged in the corridor outside the Jinhua Hall, his hand on his waist sword, pacing back and forth: "What use is he? If he can't cure her, I'll chop him up and feed him to the dogs. He's useless anyway."
"Don't cause trouble," the Tenth Prince frowned, seeing Moqi come out: "Hasn't Doctor Zhou found a solution yet?"
Moqi's eyes were red, shaking her head at the two: "Young Master Qin asked me to inquire. Two days ago, two guards were sent back to Tianying Gate to request Master Qingtian to treat the Princess. They will probably arrive in the next two days. Keep a close watch and lead them directly to the Jinhua Hall when they arrive."
"We understand."
As soon as Qin Yuhang returned to the Prince of Chu's palace with his wife, he examined her, but unfortunately, the assassin's poison was very special. Even he could not identify it. Most antidote pills work by fighting poison with poison, and taking them indiscriminately could worsen her condition. He could only send guards to Tianying Gate to request Master Qingtian, who was skilled in medicine, to come and diagnose her.
Qin Yuhang sat by the bedside, his handsome face with two heroic sword-like eyebrows, his bright eyes filled with bloodshot veins, revealing endless worry and desolation.
He held her thin, weak wrist and rubbed his chin. His stubbled chin scratched the hand without her feeling anything. At this moment, he wished she would be like usual, reproaching him with a coquettish look for scratching her with his beard.
Seeing her pale, bloodless face, Qin Yuhang was disappointed again.
"Do you have any effective method?" He continued to gaze at his wife while asking the doctor behind him.
"This old man is not very knowledgeable about poisons. The prescription my master told me to delay the poison's onset has been continuously administered to the Princess for two days using Snow Lotus from Tianshan as the main ingredient. As long as the poison in her body does not spread, there should be no problem in the short term."
Qin Yuhang's cold gaze swept over him: "What do you mean by 'should be no problem'?"
Doctor Zhou, who had been treating the palace guards these days and heard about Qin Yuhang's heroic killing of assassins, trembled: "As long as the Princess does not develop complications like a cold or lung congestion, there should be no problem in the short term."
Qin Yuhang continued to stare at his wife, his haggard eyes carrying a bleak mood, saying to the person behind him: "You may go."
"Yes." Doctor Zhou felt like he had been pardoned and almost fled, hurriedly leaving the Jinhua Hall. But as soon as he stepped out of the hall, he saw two guards standing in the corridor, both hands on the long swords at their waists, as if ready to draw and strike him at any moment.
Doctor Zhou was sweating profusely, greeting the two guards: "This humble one pays respects to the two princes."
"How is the Crown Princess?" The Eleventh Prince's brow was furrowed, his eyes anxious, asking with a hopeful tone.
"Still... still the same..." Doctor Zhou knew Prince Yi's temper was not as mild as Young Master Qin's. While speaking, his legs were shaking, casting a pleading look at Prince Pu, hoping he would intercede.
The Eleventh Prince glanced at him: "Go check on the young heir. If there are any more problems, just kill yourself!" Hengting had been frightened that day but had improved significantly after several days of treatment.
"Yes, yes, I will treat the young heir's illness, I'm going now."
Doctor Zhou nodded and bowed, trembling as he went to the Lingxue Pavilion where Hengting was.
One day passed, then another night, and Qin Yuhang still sat by his wife's sickbed, unwavering, his face haggard, his eye sockets deeply sunken.
"Master Qingtian has arrived!" Moqi's joyful voice came from outside the Jinhua Hall.
Qin Yuhang stood up, almost stumbling, grabbing the bed frame to steady himself. He saw Master Qingtian, carrying a medicine box, already entering the bedroom led by Moqi, with two of Ye Hui's guards following.
"Master Qingtian, please come and see my wife quickly!" Qin Yuhang forgot to even greet him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him to the bedside.
As for Qingtian, he was not a direct disciple of Tianying Gate. He was originally a wandering, down-on-his-luck doctor who was being pursued by enemies. Fortunately, Tianqi Daoren happened to pass by and rescued him.
Upon learning Tianqi Daoren's background, Qingtian desperately wanted to become his disciple. However, Tianqi Daoren thought Qingtian was too old and not talented enough in martial arts, and refused to accept him no matter what.
Finally, Qingtian stubbornly stayed on Tianying Mountain and would not leave. Over time, he helped manage some miscellaneous tasks for the sect and, because of his good medical skills, helped treat disciples and visitors. At Tianying Gate, with nothing else to do, he read through the medical texts and became especially skilled in detoxification.
Qingtian was pulled to the bedside by Qin Yuhang. Instead of looking at Ye Hui lying on the bed, he glanced at his disciple and muttered: "How strange. He was so energetic usually. How did he end up looking like a radish just pulled from the ground?
Qing Tian had never been married, unable to understand the emotions of ordinary people. In his mind, men and women who rolled around in the mundane world were all vulgar, and only those like himself, who took the Three Qing Patriarch as their foundation, were elegant, or even immortal.
