Feng Jiu’er’s behavior left Yang Hong and Xiaotao at a loss for how to react, but it put Tang Xiaohua and Xiao Yingtao through quite an ordeal.

Tang Xiaohua and Xiao Yingtao gripped each other’s hands tightly, struggling not to laugh.

After all, Feng Jiu’er’s performance was simply too unexpected.

Feng Jiu’er met Yang Hong’s gaze and blinked. “Dr. Yang, well? Would you let me see?”

“What are you trying to do?” Xiaotao finally reacted, shielding Yang Hong behind her.

“I won’t let anyone hurt my mistress. Get away! Or I won’t be polite about it.”

Before Feng Jiu’er could respond, Xiaotao turned her gaze to Yue Jianfei. “Master Yue, this woman means to harm my mistress—please drive her out.”

“My mistress is very weak right now, Master Yue, please hurry and drive this madwoman out.”

Feng Jiu’er looked at Xiaotao, her brows furrowing slightly. “What is this servant saying?”

“I am Madam Yue’s sworn sister. You’d best mind that mouth of yours, servant!”

“Who’s a servant?” Xiaotao glared furiously at Feng Jiu’er.

But unexpectedly, as Feng Jiu’er’s brow creased and a chill spread through the air around her, Xiaotao was so frightened she froze in place, unable to utter another word.

Feng Jiu’er gave a cold snort and turned to look at Yue Jianfei and Tang Xiaohua.

“Sister Hua, how does your household’s servant talk like this? Did I say something wrong? I was merely trying to learn something from Dr. Yang, and she calls me a madwoman?”

“Outrageous!” Tang Xiaohua glanced at Xiaotao. “Someone, drag this servant out of here!”

“We only invited a physician’s maid over, and she dares to be so disrespectful to my sister—has she lost her mind?”

As soon as Tang Xiaohua’s words fell, two tall servant boys rushed in.

“Go, throw this servant out for me!” Tang Xiaohua waved her hand.

“Yes, Madam.” The two servant boys nodded and moved toward the bed together.

“What are you trying to do?” Xiaotao panicked, seeing them approach.

In the end, she looked to Yue Jianfei with pleading eyes. “Master Yue, spare me! I meant no offense to Madam’s sister, Master Yue, please spare me!”

Feng Jiu’er glanced at the person still seated on the bed, scoffing. “A mere servant, and Master Yue and Madam Yue both stood up, yet you dare to remain seated.”

“And you speak of mercy! A servant begging for mercy while seated—today is the first time I’ve ever seen such a thing.”

“Sister Hua.” Feng Jiu’er looked up at Tang Xiaohua. “Never mind. I only wanted to learn something earnestly—I don’t want to lower myself to argue with a mongrel servant like this.”

The instant Feng Jiu’er turned around, her anger seemed to dissipate entirely.

“Dr. Yang.” She called out affectionately. “I wonder if you’d be willing to let me see your wound?”

“I really want to learn—would you teach me a thing or two?”

Xiao Yingtao was nearly bursting from holding back her laughter—she couldn’t laugh, not now at least, so she could only grip Tang Xiaohua’s hand tightly.

Tang Xiaohua’s hand stung from the grip, but she paid it no mind.

After all, Feng Jiu’er’s performance was truly excellent—if she herself hadn’t been holding back so hard, the whole house would have been filled with nothing but her own laughter.

“Since little sister Jiu’er has pleaded for her, then let it be.” Tang Xiaohua cleared her throat lightly and waved a hand.

The two servant boys bowed and stepped back to the side.

Yang Hong gripped Xiaotao’s arm and looked up at Feng Jiu’er. “Dr. Long has quite the temperament. My maid is ill-mannered—I’m fortunate you’ve forgiven her.”

How could she have known that this whole business of heart’s blood was fake?

Yang Hong now knew she’d been outmaneuvered, and at this moment she wished she could kill Feng Jiu’er.

But unfortunately, in front of Yue Jianfei, Yang Hong always had to be gentle and demure, never even raising her voice much, let alone losing her temper openly.

“It’s no trouble.” Feng Jiu’er shook her head generously, even sitting down on the bed. “Dr. Yang, did you really draw out your heart’s blood?”

“Show me—what exactly happened? I really want to know.”

Xiaotao, having been pinched hard by Yang Hong, finally snapped back to her senses.

“Right, right.” Xiaotao stood up, supporting the nearly-fainting Yang Hong, helping her lie back down.

Having settled her mistress, she immediately turned to Yue Jianfei. “Master, my mistress has already finished decocting the medicine, and even drew… drew her own heart’s blood.”

Xiaotao looked at the table and hurried over.

“Master, this bowl of medicine should be given to the old master right away—my mistress nearly lost her life for this bowl.”

Xiaotao carried the medicine over, approaching Yue Jianfei.

“Master, my mistress said that after the old master drinks the medicine, she still needs to apply needle therapy to him.”

“My mistress, she…” Before she could finish, Xiaotao’s tears began falling. “Mistress said the medicine absolutely must be drunk before it cools.”

“She worried she might faint and no one would be there to perform acupuncture on the old master, so just now she had me… had me… use a silver needle to prick her thigh, and that’s how she woke up.”

“Master, I know I was being foolish, but this is my mistress’s heartfelt effort—please take it to the old master first. As for my mistress, she…”

“I’m fine.” Yang Hong’s voice was so weak it was barely audible. “Xiaotao, have the servant boys carry me over—I can still perform the acupuncture on the old master.”

“Acupuncture?” Feng Jiu’er’s crisp voice came from the other side of the bed.

Her voice, compared to Yang Hong’s, was a world apart.

“If it’s just acupuncture, that’s no problem! My needle technique is excellent. Master Yue, don’t worry—if Dr. Yang can’t manage it, I’ll help out.”

Yang Hong, even now, hadn’t been so enraged by Feng Jiu’er as to vomit blood—her self-control must not be shallow.

“Master Yue, let’s go. If this bowl of medicine is truly effective, we mustn’t waste Dr. Yang’s heartfelt effort.” Feng Jiu’er went over and took the medicine from Xiaotao’s hands.

“Let’s go, Master Yue.”

“Master Yue.” Yang Hong sat up on the bed. “Master Yue, I’m fine. I’ve always been the one treating the old master’s illness—I’m fine, I…”

Before Yang Hong finished speaking, just as she tried to stand, she fell.

A loud thump rang out as her small body crashed to the floor, the sound not small at all.

Feng Jiu’er frowned slightly and turned around slowly.

“How could you be so careless? Dr. Yang, are you all right?” She approached Yang Hong, the medicine still in her hands.

“Could someone come support her? This medicine has Dr. Yang’s heart’s blood in it—we can’t let it spill.”

Xiaotao glanced at the indifferent Yue Jianfei and immediately stood up, turning to help.

“Miss, are you all right?” She crouched beside Feng Jiu’er, supporting the barely-conscious Yang Hong.

Yang Hong coughed lightly, and Xiaotao immediately pulled out a handkerchief.

But before she could press the handkerchief to Yang Hong’s mouth, Feng Jiu’er snatched it away with astonishing speed.

Feng Jiu’er raised the handkerchief, displaying it for everyone to see. “What’s this? Blood?”

She frowned slightly and turned back to Xiaotao.

“What’s going on here? Using such a filthy handkerchief on your mistress? Let me see…”

Feng Jiu’er brought the handkerchief to her nose and sniffed, the crease in her brow easing somewhat.

“Not bad—it smells like roses.”