Qi Yue cried out, the anger draining away. "Is your trachea blocked, or is your brain blocked?

Snap out of it. You don't owe me any favors; your mother does, your son does.

If it weren't for them, do you think you'd still be alive? Who in this world cares about you besides them!" She snorted.

"You think this is you torturing me? Wake up, you fool!

Who can you possibly hurt besides those who love you? Who cares if you live or die?

If you actually decided to end it all, it would be utterly laughable!" In the quiet room, Imperial Physician Zhou let out a chuckle again. "Indeed, indeed," he nodded, agreeing.

Liu Pucheng shot him another helpless glance. Old Madam Xie trembled as she approached, grasping Madam Xie's hand.

"Zhengmei, Zhengmei," she called out. "I have already buried the young before the old once; don't make me..." She couldn't finish, tears streaming down her withered face.

Madam Xie looked at her, finally letting out a muffled sob as she tightly gripped Old Madam Xie’s hand. Chang Yuncheng also walked over and knelt by the bedside, taking Madam Xie's other hand.

"Stop making her cry; it's bad for the wound," Qi Yue remarked. Although, really, you were the one who made her cry...

Of course, no one dared to voice that thought. Her words were like an imperial decree; Old Madam Xie immediately stopped crying and rushed to wipe Madam Xie's tears.

"Don't cry, don't cry. Once you're better, you can cry as much as you want," she coaxed.

Watching this scene, everyone in the room was somewhat moved, except for Imperial Physician Zhou and Qi Yue. Qi Yue sighed.

"Master, are you touched too?" one disciple couldn't help but ask. Qi Yue shook her head, standing by the doorway of the sickroom, looking out at the courtyard.

"Someone so detestable still has people who cherish and love her. Truly," she shook her head in disbelief, "it defies heaven's will." What did that mean?

Did Master not just speak ironically to comfort the patient, but genuinely... curse?

"Of course, I meant it literally," Qi Yue said, fiddling with a quill pen in the room while speaking to A'ru, who brought in the food. "I find her existence bothersome!

A complete hysteric." As she said this, she jabbed ferociously at an orange peel on the desk with the quill pen. "Stop playing with that," A'ru reached out and took the peel away.

"It will stain your hands." "I don't want to eat anymore," Qi Yue said, pushing the food container away. A'ru looked at the almost untouched meal.

"What's wrong with you now?" she asked. "You must be tired." Qi Yue gave a languid "Oh." "Then get some rest early.

I'm on duty for the first half of the night. You sleep first, and I'll wake you up later.

I'll prepare some supper too," A'ru said, beginning to clear the plates. Footsteps paused outside the door.

"Young Lord," A'ru looked up and quickly bowed. Chang Yuncheng walked in.

Qi Yue remained slouched lazily on the desk, unmoving. "How is Madam?" A'ru had to ask first.

"She took the medicine and is asleep," Chang Yuncheng replied. "I sent my maternal grandmother back." "There are nurses present; you don't need to stay guard right beside her," Qi Yue said, pushing herself up using the desk to sit properly, looking at Chang Yuncheng.

"You should go lie down too; you haven't closed your eyes for days and nights, have you?" Chang Yuncheng looked at her, lowering his eyes to hide the bloodshot veins covering them. "Has the Young Lord eaten?" A'ru inquired.

Chang Yuncheng remained silent. "How could he have time to eat?" Qi Yue said.

"Go to the mess hall and get another portion." A'ru acknowledged and left. Chang Yuncheng sat down, surveying the room.

"Well, my office isn't bad, is it?" Qi Yue leaned back in her chair, spreading her hands with a smile. There were two rooms, separated by bamboo blinds.

The outer room held a desk, a cabinet, a small cot, and a clothes rack. On the desk were books and pens, plus two pots of lush green plants.

A bamboo tube channeled water from outside into a basin, next to which sat a large pot of leafy greens. She disliked flowering plants; she only kept plants that grew lush green leaves, like spider plants.

Overall, everything felt familiar, just like being at home. But...

this home no longer had him. "Why aren't you eating?" Chang Yuncheng shifted his gaze to the desk.

A'ru hadn't taken away the food containers; Qi Yue's was still there. Qi Yue gave a slight 'oh' but said nothing.

"You woman," Chang Yuncheng looked at her, but didn't continue, instead leaning forward to pick up the chopsticks. "Eat." Qi Yue scoffed, leaning back again, on the verge of putting her feet up.

Chang Yuncheng held the chopsticks steady, extending them. Trying to outlast a doctor with sheer willpower?

Qi Yue watched him, grinning. Chang Yuncheng withdrew his hand, set the chopsticks down with a slight thud, and began eating Qi Yue's meal.

"Hey!" Qi Yue sat up straight and spoke. This time, it was Chang Yuncheng's turn to ignore her and take large mouthfuls.

"It's cold!" Qi Yue remarked. The chopsticks paused briefly as Chang Yuncheng brought the food to his mouth.

He felt a burning sensation in his throat and a sting in his eyes, but he continued to eat rapidly. A'ru entered with more food and froze at the sight.

"Give that to me," Qi Yue said, reaching out. A'ru quickly handed it over and set it down.

Qi Yue picked up her own chopsticks and began to eat as well. The two ate in silence, separated by the table, without a word.

A'ru watched them, and somehow, her heart ached. She turned away, pretending to fix her hair, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

The simple meal was finished quickly. A'ru cleaned up and retreated.

"I don't have any good tea here," Qi Yue said, pouring him a cup. Chang Yuncheng reached for it, but Qi Yue quickly pulled her hand back.

"Let it cool a bit before you drink it. Don't just pour things down your throat regardless of the temperature," she instructed.

Chang Yuncheng looked at her. "Alright, I remember," he replied.

Only then did Qi Yue push the cup toward him and stand up herself. "I'll go check on your mother while she's asleep," she said.

Chang Yuncheng rose, but Qi Yue had already walked out. She clearly didn't want to be around him too much, nor did she wish to say more to him...

Yes, she cared for him, was considerate, understood him, perhaps even liked him, but... she could do without him.

When Qi Yue re-entered, she found Chang Yuncheng asleep on the small cot in the outer room. "Should I wake him?" A'ru whispered.

Qi Yue shook her head. "He is clearly exhausted.

He doesn't need to guard the sickroom, and even if he did, he wouldn't sleep well there. Let him rest here," she murmured.

"You can sleep in my room," A'ru whispered back. Qi Yue nodded, and A'ru went to prepare.

Qi Yue paused at the door, then finally walked in. This small bed wasn't meant for sleeping; it was for examining patients, so it only had a sheet, no pillow or blanket.

Sleeping on it would certainly be uncomfortable. Qi Yue lifted the blind and entered the inner room, retrieving her own pillow.

The man slept profoundly. Qi Yue struggled a bit to lift his head and place the pillow underneath, then carefully took off his shoes and covered him with a thin spread.

She lowered the curtain and left. The door was gently closed, and the footsteps faded away.

Chang Yuncheng, still on the cot, curled up tighter, his eyes remaining firmly shut, closing even more tightly. He turned on his side and tightly hugged the pillow, burying his face in it.

He would allow himself this one instance of shamelessness. Only by pretending ignorance and being so stubbornly dependent once could he get close to her again, could he bathe in her presence one more time.

Chang Yuncheng slowly curled his body. The pillow was no longer under his head but clutched tightly to his chest.

The small cot seemed to dwarf the tall man, making him appear utterly lonely. At first, he was indeed just feigning sleep, thinking he could savor the feeling of her nearness just a little longer.

With Madam Xie in this condition, he knew he wouldn't sleep well, but unexpectedly, he truly did drift off. When he startled awake, the outside was already deep into the night.

Perhaps it was due to a sense of peace. Chang Yuncheng got up, looked at the blanket and pillow in his arms, and slowly smoothed them out, placing them neatly back on the cot.

He glanced around the room again. He couldn't see clearly in the darkness, but he still looked over everything bit by bit, as if trying to imprint it all upon his heart, before turning and walking out.

Only one lamp hung in the courtyard, its light reflecting the glow emanating from the sickroom. Chang Yuncheng walked over and peered through the bamboo blind at Qi Yue's silhouette inside.

"Master, don't people who attempt suicide always cut their throats? Why is it that cutting the throat can both kill and save a life?" the two disciples asked beside her.

Qi Yue, who was checking the blood pressure monitor, smiled. "It depends on how you cut.

It's like arsenic; it's poison and will kill you, but when used in medicine, it can cure illness," she smiled. The disciples nodded, scratching their heads, chuckling.

"Master is truly amazing, how did you even think of that?" they said. "I'm not amazing.

This..." Qi Yue stood up, looking at the sleeping Madam Xie's throat wound, which was now covered with the most breathable gauze to prevent contamination from dust. "Countless failed experiences have forged what now appears to be an incredible divine skill." Saying this, she looked at her disciples.

"So, we should never fear failure. What seems like a failure provides experience for those who come later.

Failed experience is also a form of success," she stated. She said it to her disciples, but also to herself.

The two disciples stood up straighter. "Yes," they responded solemnly.

"Don't be so formal," Qi Yue laughed, directing them. "Come on, continue with the nebulizer treatment." The disciples complied, beginning to manipulate the small censer placed over the charcoal stove.

"Master, inhaling this will soothe the throat?" "It helps reduce swelling." "But, Master, you were truly incredible back then, to dare to stab like that..." Hearing this, Qi Yue smiled. "Actually, I wasn't that brave," she said with a hint of reminiscence.

"I once saw a patient suddenly suffocate. At that time, there was nothing available, so the old doctor used his own fountain pen to pierce the throat, buying the patient precious time to live." She looked at her disciples as she spoke.

Surprised? Shocked?

The disciples nodded, eyes wide. "Master, what is a fountain pen?" one asked, his face full of curiosity.

The ancient people's points of focus were always out of sync with hers. Qi Yue let out a frustrated breath.

"It's a type of pen, a pointy one," she said somewhat dejectedly. The disciple murmured an 'Oh.' "Kind of like the feather quill you use, Master?" "Steel...

steel is different from a feather, right?" "What is steel?" Seeing the conversation veering wildly off course, Qi Yue smiled and shook her head. The latter half of the night was the sleepiest time; chatting was fine too.

She smiled and turned, carefully examining Madam Xie's entire body, checking for subcutaneous emphysema. Under the dim light, the busy figure inside looked so warm.

Chang Yuncheng withdrew his gaze from the window and turned to look out at the courtyard. The night was gradually receding, and the morning mist began to lift.

People slowly started walking on the street, until one pedestrian suddenly stopped, letting out a sharp scream. He flinched and squatted down, only coming to his senses after a while.

Seeing no danger approaching, he cautiously raised his head to look over. Not far down the street, a row of people were kneeling, dressed in white mourning clothes—a stark white mass.

Seeing this first thing in the morning was enough to scare someone to death! What on earth were they doing!

A passerby muttered, curiosity pulling them closer, until they clearly saw the scene before the Thousand Gold Hall: besides the women and children clad in sackcloth and ashes, there was a wooden plank laid out before them, upon which lay a... dead body.

The passerby finally let out another scream and turned to flee. Clenching his fists and shouting!

His own tears were streaming down his face in emotion, praying that this high-spirited state would last, because then being in debt wouldn't seem so terrible! I'm going back to writing, but there won't be an update today; I'll write tomorrow's instead!

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