The servant, fearful yet obedient, admitted truthfully: the prescription had come from Aunt Wang.
Chen Jinghan confirmed with Liu Ling again, asking whether the medicine indeed posed a danger. Liu Ling glanced at the frail Qing’er on the bed and nodded gravely.
After checking her pulse, he explained that Qing’er was already delicate; prolonged use of such herbs could cause serious long-term harm. As a physician, he could not prioritize self-preservation over a living life.
Worried for Qing’er, Jinghan pleaded with Liu Ling to stay at the residence for a while. After some thought, Liu agreed: he would continue his travels during the day but return to the Chen residence at night, ensuring Qing’er’s care without neglecting his work.
Seeing Jinghan so anxious, Liu Ling patted his shoulder and reassured him warmly: “Rest easy. Your young mistress will recover.”
With that, Liu Ling left with the servants. Jinghan remained by Qing’er’s side for a long while, instructing Cui’er to care for her before finally stepping out, glancing back every few steps.
His mind kept returning to Liu Ling’s warning: Lei Gong Teng… infertility.
Fueled by anger, Jinghan stormed toward Aunt Wang’s residence. The servants had never seen him like this and instinctively gave way, fearing any collateral damage.
In the back garden, he saw Aunt Wang and Lady Chen seated in the pavilion, sipping tea. Lady Chen wiped her tears while Wang whispered comfort, occasionally dabbing them away.
“All of you leave!” Jinghan bellowed from a distance.
Lady Chen froze in shock. In her home, no one had ever raised their voice like this. Seeing Jinghan, she softened and asked gently, “Jinghan, you’re here?”
Jinghan slammed the medicine package on the ground and glared at Aunt Wang. “Aunt Wang, this prescription—was it really yours?”
A chill ran through Wang, but she feigned ignorance, retreating behind Lady Chen. “Sister, Jinghan must have lost his mind or something.”
Lady Chen, puzzled, scolded, “Jinghan! How can you speak to your aunt like that? She only wanted to help Qing’er because of her fever!”
Jinghan stepped past Lady Chen, confronting Wang directly. “Aunt Wang, do you know this prescription contains Lei Gong Teng? Women who take it risk infertility!”
Wang waved frantically. “Jinghan, what are you saying? This is an ancestral remedy. We’ve always used it without issue!”
Lady Chen interjected, “Jinghan, don’t speak recklessly. Your aunt only wants what’s best for Qing’er. How could she harm her?”
“Yes, exactly! I have no grudge against Qing’er. How could I possibly cause her harm?” Wang stammered.
Bang!
Jinghan struck a wooden stool; it splintered instantly.
Wang shrieked, trembling.
Lady Chen, enraged, wanted to strike her son, but her hand froze mid-air. She pointed at him: “Get out!”
Jinghan sneered at Wang: “From now on, if I ever find out who tried to harm Qing’er… the consequence will be like this stool!”
Turning, he left. With his mother present, he could not act further. Besides, since Wang insisted the prescription was harmless, and few others could detect the tampering besides the highly skilled Liu Ling, a harsh warning was the clearest measure he could take.
Back in the room, Jinghan sat silently by Qing’er, refusing food, holding her hand, praying for her recovery.
Cui’er came repeatedly, urging him to eat, but he ignored her, only letting her leave the room after insisting.
He spent the night by her side. Exhausted from his journey from the front lines, hunger, and worry, he eventually dozed off beside her.
A sudden cough awoke him.
Jinghan snapped awake and saw Qing’er at the head of the bed, coughing slightly, tears wetting her cheeks.
Overjoyed, he grasped her hand, whispering in her ear, “Qing’er, I’m Jinghan. I’m back.” He repeated it several times. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
“Qing’er, you’re awake! You’re awake!” he cried in delight.
She weakly reached out to touch his face. Jinghan guided her hand to his cheek, tears streaming. “Qing’er, you scared me so much!”
Feeling his warm face, Qing’er realized it was real. She wept freely, soaking the pillow.
“Jinghan… Jinghan…” she murmured, experiencing the depth of longing for the first time.
Jinghan sat on the bed, brushing her tears away, slowly lifting her to rest her head on his chest, kissing her hair and fingers.
Feeling his trembling, Qing’er turned to him, caressing his face, forcing a weak smile: “Husband… don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Unable to restrain himself, Jinghan held her and kissed her deeply, saying everything without words.
Cui’er knocked, breaking the embrace. Qing’er pushed him gently, and he noticed her pale face, realizing he had lingered too long.
Cui’er explained she had brought medicine. Jinghan’s eyes lit up—Liu Ling’s timing was perfect. He opened the door for Cui’er.
Following Liu Ling’s prediction, Qing’er was indeed awake. Cui’er knelt with the medicine bowl, sobbing uncontrollably.
Qing’er, slightly amused, said weakly, “Cui’er… get up.”
Cui’er stood and prepared to administer the medicine, but Jinghan took the bowl himself.
Qing’er smiled faintly, “Cui’er, you’ve stayed up too long. Rest. Your husband is here—nothing will happen.”
Cui’er obeyed, closing the door to prevent disturbance.
Jinghan carefully fed Qing’er the medicine, one spoon at a time. She grimaced, drinking a few sips before refusing further.
“Too bitter,” she pouted, shutting her mouth.
Jinghan frowned, speaking gruffly, “How can you not take medicine when you’re sick?”