The people in the residence had been busy for most of the day, yet Pei Qingmin showed no sign of improvement. From the looks of it, he seemed to be on the verge of collapse.
Leng Yue’er returned from outside and immediately slept soundly, completely forgetting that she had stood in the wrong position and made a mistake a dark guard should never make.
After sleeping.
She washed up briefly, only to feel waves of hunger rising in her stomach. Holding her abdomen, she wandered slowly through the Prince’s residence. The usually quiet and orderly estate had taken on an entirely different appearance.
The corridors had lost their usual calm. Maidservants and attendants moved hurriedly back and forth, carrying medicinal broth, warm water, or clean cloths, their faces filled with anxiety. They spoke only in hushed tones as they rushed along.
Outside the west wing where Pei Qingmin’s chambers were located, a large crowd had already gathered. Several imperial physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy took turns standing under the corridor, their medicine chests neatly arranged. They gathered in small groups for consultations, brows tightly furrowed, expressions grave. From time to time, they would stroke their beards and sigh, clearly at a loss.
As expected, Prince Wei had always been in poor health. Now, with this persistent high fever that would not break, even the imperial physicians were helpless, yet none dared to show negligence.
Leng Yue’er glanced over everything and continued walking toward the kitchen.
But just as she reached the kitchen door, she took in the scene and silently thought that this looked less like a fever and more like a terminal illness.
Was it really that serious? Or was the sickly prince simply too embarrassed after last night’s humiliation and trying to give up on himself and die from self-neglect? That was not impossible either.
She leaned toward the cook and, in a low voice carrying undeniable authority, gave a few brief instructions.
Leng Yue’er then leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching as the cook busied herself. About half an hour later, a few simple yet appetizing dishes and a bowl of warm rice porridge were served.
She did not stand during the ceremony. She sat down and ate voraciously, finishing everything on the table in no time, even licking the bowl clean.
Satisfied and full, Leng Yue’er patted her round belly and turned to head back to her quarters. However, after only a few steps, she grew irritated with the winding corridors of the residence and muttered inwardly that it would be far quicker to take the rooftops.
The thought formed, and she immediately leapt upward. With a light tap of her toes on the eaves, she landed firmly on the roof.
As soon as she landed, she spotted Minghai standing outside her room. His eyes were red, his face filled with worry. He was pacing in place, rubbing his hands together anxiously, clearly wanting to knock but too afraid to do so.
Leng Yue’er shifted and silently dropped behind him. “What is it?” she asked flatly.
The sudden voice startled Minghai so badly that he nearly dropped his whisk.
“Oh my! C-Commander Leng, you nearly scared this servant to death!” Minghai hurriedly bent to pick it up, patting his chest as he tried to calm himself. His expression remained distressed, his eyes even redder now, his voice slightly choked.
Leng Yue’er raised an eyebrow and asked again, this time more impatiently. “If you have something to say, say it. Don’t waste time. Is the Prince dead?”
Minghai inhaled sharply, nearly fainting from the shock of her words.
“Commander Leng, please save the Prince!” he pleaded urgently. “The imperial physicians have been guarding him all day, but the fever will not subside. It is getting worse. Just now, he even lost consciousness and began speaking nonsense. The physicians say… they say he is in grave danger!”
A flicker of surprise passed through Leng Yue’er’s eyes before her usual cold indifference returned.
“What can I do if even the imperial physicians are helpless?” she said dismissively. “I am a dark guard. I know how to kill and protect, not how to heal.”
Minghai quickly stepped forward, blocking her path. Tears were almost spilling from his eyes.
“I know you do not understand medicine, but you are different! Yesterday, when the Prince fainted, you held him steady. And before that, you even resolved matters with Prince Xun calmly. You must have a solution! Before he lost consciousness, he was even muttering your name. This servant truly has no other choice but to beg you!”
Leng Yue’er paused.
Her brows furrowed slightly. She had not expected the sickly prince to be calling her name even while unconscious.
Did he even know who she was? Or had he been cursing her all night instead?
Still, on second thought, if this nominal master really died, then…
She recalled the various characters in Noble Daughter’s Prestigious Marriage. Aside from those already dead, most were busy digging their own graves. Very few actually survived to the end. Compared to them, Prince Wei was relatively tolerable. Staying here and watching the drama unfold was also convenient.
Fine. She had convinced herself.
She glanced at Minghai’s red eyes.
“I cannot guarantee I can save him,” Leng Yue’er said coldly, though her tone had softened slightly. “I will only take a look. Whether he can break the fever depends on his own fate.”
Minghai was overjoyed and quickly wiped his tears.
“Thank you, Commander Leng! Thank you! Even if you cannot save His Highness, this servant is already grateful that you are willing to try!”
He immediately stepped aside to lead the way. “Please, this way. The Prince’s chamber is in the west warm pavilion.”
Leng Yue’er followed behind him at an unhurried pace, her expression still indifferent, though her mind was already turning.
It was only a fever. Even if he was frail, it should not have reached a life or death state. Could someone have tampered with his medicine?
Prince Xun? The thought arose briefly before she dismissed it. Prince Xun was not the type to hold grudges over such matters. He would not act so ruthlessly.
Soon, they arrived outside Pei Qingmin’s chamber.
Leng Yue’er pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was thick with medicinal scent, almost suffocating.
Pei Qingmin lay on the bed, his face pale as paper, lips cracked. Even under thick quilts, his body trembled faintly. Cold sweat covered his forehead, his brows tightly knit as if enduring severe pain. His lips moved slightly, murmuring indistinct words.
Leng Yue’er’s expression turned serious.
She first walked to the window and opened it a narrow crack, letting in cool night air to disperse the heavy medicinal stench. Although she did not know formal medicine, she had learned basic first aid in the assassin organization and understood that those with fever should not be kept in stuffy conditions.
She then stepped forward, lifting the quilt slightly to expose his wrist and neck. Placing her fingers on his pulse, she confirmed he was not in immediate danger, only suffering from a persistent, blocked fever.
If he was not going to die immediately, why were so many imperial physicians unable to reduce his fever? Did they want him to be burned into an idiot?
While thinking this, she took out several fine silver needles. With steady precision, she inserted them into key acupoints on his forehead, wrists, shoulders, and neck. Her movements were swift and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.
Minghai watched in horror from the side, instinctively wanting to stop her, but one cold glance from Leng Yue’er froze him in place. He could only pace anxiously, palms sweating, not daring to interfere.
After half an hour, the silver needles remained in place. Pei Qingmin’s sweating gradually eased, and his breathing became more stable.
Minghai, standing nearby, saw that although Pei Qingmin’s face was still pale, the burning heat had lessened considerably. The tension in his chest finally loosened slightly, and when he looked at Leng Yue’er, his eyes now carried genuine reverence.
Quietly, he stepped outside, politely dismissed the helpless imperial physicians one by one, and stood guard at the door, waiting for further instructions from within.