Cui’er, desperate to protect her mistress, tried to barge in but was forcefully shoved to the ground.
As she struggled, a deep, commanding voice thundered, “What are you doing?”
Chen Jinghan appeared, clad in battle armor, dismounting like a god descending.
Cui’er scrambled up, grabbed his arm, and cried, “Young General, the young mistress—she’s in trouble!”
“Qing’er! What happened to her?” Jinghan’s hand flew toward his sword, but he threw it aside and sprinted to the room, Cui’er close behind.
“Qing’er! Qing’er!” His heart raced, seeing Cui’er’s frantic efforts, fear gnawing at him.
He kicked open the door and dashed to the bedside. There lay his beloved Qing’er, pale, motionless, cheeks flushed, but her hands icy cold.
He knelt by her side, touching her face gently, whispering, “Qing’er, I’m back… I’m back.” His eyes reddened, unable to hold back the tears.
Cui’er explained quickly: the doctor had already attended her, yet Qing’er’s condition showed no improvement.
“Doctor! Bring more doctors! The best doctors in the city—bring them here! Hurry!” Jinghan roared.
“Yes, sir!” The servants immediately obeyed, scattering to summon physicians.
Hearing that her son had returned, Lady Chen rushed to him, only to see his face dark as iron, terrifying to behold.
“Jinghan, you’re back! Your mother was worried sick,” she said, stepping forward to embrace him.
Jinghan sidestepped coldly. “Mother, how did Qing’er fall so ill?”
“She… her constitution is weak,” Lady Chen replied, intimidated by his unfamiliar sternness.
“Is that all?”
“Jinghan! How can you speak to your mother like that?” Aunt Wang scolded, pointing at him. “She worries about you, her eyes red from crying, and you return and glare like this? How can she endure it?”
Seeing her son berated, Lady Chen tugged at Aunt Wang and said, “Enough, sister-in-law. He’s tired from the journey—let him stay in the room a while.”
Aunt Wang left, and Jinghan asked Cui’er many questions. Being a servant, she dared not speak freely, merely recounting that the young mistress had fallen ill after kneeling in the ancestral hall all night.
Jinghan’s fists clenched, nearly cracking his knuckles. He had expected his mother and aunt, who disliked Qing’er over the matter of Hu Die, to tolerate her out of respect for him. He believed her intelligence would eventually win them over.
Yet, barely gone, Qing’er was so gravely ill. His anger flared—he would uncover the truth once she recovered.
Suddenly, Qing’er moved slightly, murmuring, “Father… Mother… save me… I want to go home,” tears streaming from her eyes.
Jinghan grasped her hand tightly. “Qing’er, don’t be afraid. I’m back. No one will harm you again.”
He ached with worry; in her most desperate moments, the first thought was of her parents. For her to call for them even in her delirium meant her suffering had been extreme.
A report came: “Young General, the doctors have arrived.”
Jinghan lowered the curtains with a wave. “Bring them all in.”
A dozen physicians crowded in. Jinghan instructed each to examine her; the consensus was that she had wind-cold invasion and needed warmth and recuperation. If she improved in three days, there would be no serious harm.
“And if she doesn’t?” Jinghan’s face darkened.
“If untreated, her health may suffer long-term, affecting fertility,” an elderly doctor warned. The others trembled under Jinghan’s intimidating presence.
Jinghan dismissed all the other doctors, rewarding them for their honesty, leaving only the eldest, a wandering physician, Liu Ling, renowned for his skill and integrity.
Liu Ling, unflinching even before the fierce general, earned Jinghan’s respect. He saw through the situation at a glance and calmly said, “Don’t worry. With me here, she will be fine.”
Relieved, Jinghan finally felt hope. As long as Qing’er survived, nothing else mattered.
Someone reported that the previously prescribed medicine had been delivered and asked if it should be prepared.
Jinghan hesitated, wary of any doctor’s prescription other than Liu Ling’s, ready to discard it—but Liu stopped him.
Inspecting the package, Liu Ling nodded. “I don’t know which colleague prescribed this, but it’s fine. Prepare it.”
Another prescription, however, had also been brought. Liu Ling examined it carefully and frowned.
Jinghan noticed immediately. Liu instructed everyone else to leave and closed the door.
“Liu Daifu, speak plainly,” Jinghan demanded.
Liu Ling frowned. “The previous medicine is suitable, but this one… it’s risky.”
“What do you mean?” Jinghan asked, bewildered.
Liu Ling picked an ingredient from the package. “Young General, do you recognize this?”
Jinghan shook his head. He knew only basic herbs.
“This is Lei Gong Teng,” Liu explained. “For a woman, long-term use can lead to infertility.”
“What?!” Jinghan nearly fell to the ground.
“Can it also dispel cold?” he asked urgently.
Liu Ling nodded slightly. “It can, but in this prescription, it’s unnecessary. Someone tampered with the medicine.”
Jinghan’s heart sank. He immediately called the servant who delivered the medicine and demanded to know who gave this prescription.