Yang Xingjian helped Bao Zhu, moving at an invalid’s pace, step by step slowly returning to the second-floor bedroom. Only after closing the door did he breathe a sigh of relief. Yang Xingjian wiped the sweat beads seeping from his forehead and said quietly, “Ah, this scoundrel relies on Cui Keyong’s authority and dares to randomly accuse court officials—truly troublesome.”
Bao Zhu was also indignant and was about to criticize Bao Lang’s disrespectful words with Yang Xingjian when she suddenly discovered someone standing in the shadowy corner, startling her into a shiver. Looking carefully, it was Wei Xun. He had been standing there since they entered the room, not hiding at all, yet somehow hadn’t emitted any living presence. Neither Yang Xingjian nor she had noticed him completely, giving them both quite a fright.
Seeing that they had finally both spotted him, Wei Xun said expressionlessly to Bao Zhu, “This person—don’t see him anymore in the future.”
Bao Zhu thought, “Is this something I can avoid just by not wanting to see him?” She frowned and said, “What brilliant insight do you have again?”
Wei Xun said straightforwardly, “I find him displeasing to the eye.”
Bao Zhu sighed, “Did you see him just now? Ah, what an aggressive bastard. He even said he’d find doctors to check my pulse—then pretending to be sick is useless. What should we do?”
Hearing that she was also very annoyed with Bao Lang, Wei Xun immediately felt much more relaxed and said gently, “Just lie there and pretend—I’ll handle this matter.”
Yang Xingjian said, “He indeed won’t give us that note. Who knows what sinister plot he’s hiding.”
Wei Xun said, “This isn’t difficult either—I can get it.”
Bao Zhu said seriously, “I’m telling you, you absolutely cannot confront him directly. Even if you could beat him, that would be openly resisting the law and rebelling!”
Wei Xun smiled and agreed, “Yes, yes, yes, Wei understands. You’re of true dragon bloodline—listening to you surely doesn’t count as rebellion, right?”
Only then did Bao Zhu nod with satisfaction.
Yang Xingjian observed from the side, thinking that in these two days of witnessing this person interact with the Princess, it was indeed the Princess who had the final say in everything. Apart from some informal martial world habits, he had never seen him dare to defy his superiors, completely incomparable to Bao Lang’s relentlessly aggressive and domineering demeanor. Yang Xingjian wondered in his heart—could it really be a misunderstanding? Was this person truly not a treacherous servant?
In the afternoon, Bao Lang indeed invited five or six of the city’s most renowned doctors to the county office’s inner residence to diagnose and treat Lady Fangxie’s condition.
Yang Xingjian looked at this roomful of doctors and said with a cold laugh, “The women of my Hongnong Yang clan cannot be seen by just any country bumpkin. First select your most capable one, then go up to examine my daughter. What kind of propriety is this noisy commotion?”
The doctors all modestly demurred, each pushing the other forward, none wanting to take on this patient. After all, even County Magistrate Wu Zhiyuan smiled obsequiously before this green-robed official—if they made the slightest mistake, they would probably have to close their practices permanently and never recover.
Finally, they pushed forward Doctor Wu, the most senior among them, who shared a surname with Wu Zhiyuan. The old man had been practicing medicine in the city for over forty years and was very experienced. With an uneasy heart, he followed Yang Xingjian upstairs and entered Lady Fangxie’s boudoir.
The Reflection Study was originally Wu Zhiyuan’s study, so the room’s decor lacked any feminine atmosphere. However, upon opening the door, one could smell a faint delicate fragrance. The bed had curtains drawn around it, concealing any human figure—this was the customary practice when examining women from noble families. Having heard that this Lady Yang was of extremely high status, no one planned to steal a glimpse of her appearance.
Yang Xingjian opened a gap in the curtains, poked his head in to give a few instructions, then closed the curtains again. Moments later, a hand covered by silk emerged from beneath the curtains. Doctor Wu didn’t dare look closely, muttering to himself, “This young lady’s wrist is quite fair, but her hand is really quite large—almost as big as a man’s.”
But upon feeling the pulse, Doctor Wu was immediately shocked: this pulse was thread-like and barely perceptible, intermittent and on the verge of stopping—the patient was dying. Someone with such a pulse was beyond medical help; at most, concentrated ginseng broth could sustain one breath. If lucky, it might allow the person to say a few last words and arrange their affairs.
Yang Xingjian looked at him hopefully and asked, “How is my daughter’s condition?”
Doctor Wu broke out in cold sweat and didn’t dare speak directly. He quickly stood up and said, “Shameful, shameful—this old man’s medical skills are shallow and inadequate. Please have the colleagues downstairs take a look instead.” With that, he covered his head with his sleeve and went downstairs.
The second doctor, Doctor Liang, was pushed upstairs. He nervously took the pulse, and after a moment thought fortunately, though this woman’s illness was stubborn and lingering, with careful care it could be treated. Why was Old Wu so cautious? He smiled and said to Yang Xingjian, “Your daughter has digestive disorders and severe blood deficiency. She probably hasn’t liked eating since childhood, right?” He continued his leisurely diagnosis: “Hmm… there’s also severe uterine coldness. If not properly regulated, she may have difficulty bearing children in the future.”
Yang Xingjian showed no favor and turned angry, scolding, “What uterine coldness? Completely wrong diagnosis! Get out!”
The third doctor, Doctor Zhang, seeing two respected senior colleagues fail, thought he must take the middle path—saying neither good nor bad things, giving an ambiguous prescription of general tonics that anyone of any age or gender could take. He sought no merit, only to avoid mistakes.
But when his finger touched the wrist, no matter how he felt left or right, he couldn’t find the slightest pulse—the breath had already ceased, the person was completely dead. Uncertain and alarmed, he forced himself to appear calm, using his sleeve to conceal as his little finger lightly touched the part of the patient’s wrist not covered by silk. The skin was incredibly cold without a trace of warmth, further confirming the diagnosis of no pulse. He was immediately terrified, his whole body rigid, not knowing what to do.
Just as Doctor Zhang was sweating profusely and unable to advance or retreat, a sound like a woman’s cat-like soft and tender laughter suddenly came from within the heavy curtains. Immediately after, the long-stopped pulse surprisingly revived with extremely vigorous and strong force. This indescribable situation made Doctor Zhang think it was a corpse coming back to life. Frightened into screaming, he fell to the ground and escaped from the room crawling and rolling.
Bao Zhu, hidden behind the curtains, had been suppressing her laughter until her whole body shook curled up in a ball, hands covering her mouth, face flushed red, yet still let out a laugh.
Wei Xun glanced at her and still seriously extended his arm waiting for the next doctor to check his pulse, his slender eyes flickering with mischievous and playful light. Now that his power had recovered to seventy or eighty percent, his whole body’s true energy flowed freely, making it easy to temporarily control the strength and weakness of his pulse. Having read several medical books and understanding the principles somewhat, his mischievous nature arose, thinking up various tricks to thoroughly confuse several doctors.
But hearing her soft laugh, somehow his heart became restless, and he couldn’t help but skip a beat, revealing a flaw that ruined his original plan—quite unexpected.
Yang Xingjian was similarly suppressing laughter to the point of internal injury, marveling at the strange methods of martial world extraordinary people, with youthful nature amplifying these tricks even further. As long as he wasn’t the target, the entertainment was truly endless.
Except for one who was scared away on the spot, the five top doctors in Xiagui County argued among themselves, each with completely different diagnoses, vastly different from one another. After they sarcastically compared their respective pulse readings with each other, everyone discovered something was wrong. The more they thought about it, the more chilling it became, so the doctors all humbly claimed their medical skills were inadequate and they were unworthy to treat nobles in the county office, escaping one after another.
Seeing the atmosphere was perfect, Yang Xingjian immediately declared that his beloved daughter had dreamed of white snakes coiling around her body for three consecutive days, certainly bewitched by snake demons, demanding that Wu Zhiyuan immediately hire monks and Taoist priests to perform rituals to drive away demons and slay monsters, hoping to use this excuse to muddy the situation and preferably close the case with the vague reason of supernatural affairs.
Wu Zhiyuan and Bao Lang hesitated. A few days ago, everyone had seen Yang Fangxie looking quite well with their own eyes, but she suddenly fell ill within a day or two, her condition deteriorating rapidly to the point where even doctors were helpless—they indeed couldn’t help but suspect supernatural involvement. Since the pearl theft case had been publicized to this extent, they naturally wouldn’t compromise. After discussion, they only agreed to let Abbot Liaoru from Lianhua Temple come chant sutras to dispel the bad luck.
Rumors of snake demon bewitchment had already spread widely throughout the city. When this happened, not a single servant in Wu Zhiyuan’s inner residence was willing to serve in the Reflection Study, refusing to comply even when the mistress threatened them with beatings. Wu Zhiyuan could only arrange for two guards with strong spiritual fortification to live next to the Reflection Study, ostensibly to prevent the father and daughter from escaping.
This way, Bao Zhu and the others became even more unrestricted. When discussing strategies, they no longer feared servants eavesdropping behind doors. Since Wei Xun’s recovery and return, Bao Zhu felt she had strong support. Though still confined to the Reflection Study, she no longer felt as helpless and at others’ mercy as in the beginning, and began ambitiously working to solve the pearl theft and murder case.