Jingrong’s weak voice echoed in her ears.

Though his entire body had gone limp, his words still tried to maintain their strength.

Ji Yunshu’s hands shot up to her sides as if they’d exploded, her ten fingers tensing helplessly, not knowing what to do.

The weight pressing on her body caused her knees to gradually bend. Finally, gritting her teeth, she pressed her hands against Jingrong’s waist, supporting his body that was about to slide down.

Between the two of them was barely the width of a paper sheet. Ji Yunshu’s ear happened to rest against Jingrong’s solid chest, where his heart’s rising and falling beats seemed amplified countless times at this moment, falling one by one upon Ji Yunshu’s eardrums.

However, now was not the time for her to blush.

“You… hold on, I can’t carry you.”

She supported him with great difficulty, but her feet couldn’t move a single step.

Perhaps she should just let go and let him fall flat on his face.

This thought flashed through Ji Yunshu’s mind—too wicked.

No!

“Your Highness.”

Like a heavenly sound, approaching from far to near.

Lang Bo was first startled by the ground full of corpses, then ran over. Seeing his prince draped entirely over Ji Yunshu’s body, he froze for a moment.

“What are you standing there for? Pull your prince off me.” Ji Yunshu’s tone became more forceful.

Lang Bo was a rough man, naturally lacking the gentle touch of a young lady. When pulling Jingrong away from her, he simply yanked him, ready to carry his prince home!

Ji Yunshu twisted her shoulder, which had been pressed sore, and grabbed Lang Bo with one hand.

“Where are you going? Put him down.” Her voice was urgent, her expression grave.

Lang Bo quickly and obediently set down the already unconscious Jingrong on the cold ground.

The next moment, Ji Yunshu crouched down, grabbed a corner of her own robe, and tore forcefully, ripping off a long strip of cloth.

The moment after, she pinched the torn opening in Jingrong’s sleeve where the sword had pierced, and tore forcefully again, revealing the wound where the sword had injured him.

His arm was completely stained with black blood!

“The prince is injured?” Lang Bo exclaimed.

Man, are you blind? Your prince has already fainted—if he’s not injured, could he be sleeping?

At this moment, Ji Yunshu had no time to “teach him a lesson.”

She tied the torn strip of cloth three inches above Jingrong’s wound to prevent the poison from spreading throughout his body.

After doing this, Ji Yunshu looked up at Lang Bo.

“Next to the memorial tablet in the house, there’s a jar of white liquor. Quickly bring it here.”

“Yes.” Slavish instinct at play!

Lang Bo ran toward the house, found the white liquor accurately and without error, crouched down, and handed it to Ji Yunshu.

Taking the wine jar, Ji Yunshu poured a mouthful into her mouth, then sprayed it onto Jingrong’s wound. The wound immediately erupted with white bubbles.

Just like Sprite mixed with Red Bull!

Fizzing and hissing.

Not understanding what was happening, Lang Bo could only stare anxiously. Before he could react, he saw Ji Yunshu press down on his prince’s arm with both hands, lean down, and bring her mouth toward the wound.

She sucked out the black blood, spat it out, then sucked again, and spat again.

Back and forth more than ten times before stopping!

Ji Yunshu’s mouth was now full of black blood.

Though it was the dead of winter, she was covered in sweat.

“Sir, what’s wrong with my prince?” Lang Bo asked nervously.

“He’s been poisoned with spotted stone venom. The toxin is very potent, but fortunately it hasn’t reached his bones yet. He won’t die.” Ji Yunshu replied, picked up the wine jar from the ground, and quickly added: “Hurry and bring your prince inside.”

“Yes.” Again, slavish instinct at play.

Following the direction Ji Yunshu pointed, Lang Bo carried his prince into a small resting room and placed him on the bed.

During this time, Ji Yunshu carried the wine jar and ran into Fu Bo’s small room, treating Fu Bo’s wound using the same method.

Immediately after, she expertly found several medicinal ingredients in the charity mortuary, quickly ground them up, and applied them separately to Jingrong’s and Fu Bo’s wounds, then bandaged each one properly.

If the wounds had been treated any later, they would likely have faced certain death.

After all this rushing about, her legs went weak from exhaustion. She twisted her neck and took several deep breaths.

Finally, mission accomplished!

Lang Bo didn’t understand: “Sir, what medicine did you apply to the prince?”

Could it kill him?

This Lang Bo really had the same temperament as his prince—always afraid she would poison them.

Frowning, Ji Yunshu said: “Those are just ordinary medicinal ingredients—ginger, fragrant treasure, and violet ground herb. Ground together and applied to the wound, they can stop bleeding and expel poison. They won’t poison anyone to death.”

“How did the prince get poisoned?”

Actually, Ji Yunshu didn’t quite understand the mindset of these ancient people either—why always poison, poison, poison!

If not poison, using hidden weapons would work too!

Foolish!

“If you want to know, go outside and look at those men in black. Every sword was meant to take your prince’s life.”

At Ji Yunshu’s words, Lang Bo rushed out. He wouldn’t dismember those corpses to avenge his prince’s poisoning, would he?

Turning her head, Ji Yunshu glanced at Jingrong lying on the bed, his face pale.

His features, now lacking some of their sharp edge, had gained some gentle softness. Those deeply sculpted perfect brows and eyes, that high-bridged nose, and those tightly pressed lips that normally commanded authority without anger had also restrained their sharpness.

Truly a flawlessly beautiful face.

Perhaps realizing she was staring so “obsessively,” Ji Yunshu’s gaze suddenly faltered, carrying a strange nervousness.

In her mind, the scene of Jingrong protecting her in his embrace rose up again. Thinking of it now, though she was grateful, she also felt vaguely flushed with embarrassment.

Even though he was the culprit behind tonight’s incident.

But after all, he had taken that sword strike for her, so she should still be grateful to this Buddha.

The more she thought, the more chaotic and flustered her heart became, making her unable to sit or stand peacefully.

She might as well go outside.

Outside, Lang Bo was examining each of the men in black, his gaze grave, his brows tightly knit.

Ji Yunshu also remarked casually: “These assassins not only aimed every sword at vital points, they even poisoned their swords. And they came for Prince Rong, which shows their purpose was singular—they wanted your prince dead.”

Hey, hey, hey, tell the truth—did your prince owe someone money and refuse to pay it back, driving them to hire assassins?

Lang Bo remained silent.

Ji Yunshu wrinkled her nose. Throughout the courtyard, besides the originally pervasive smell of corpses, there was now also a thick scent of blood.

A curious desire suddenly arose in her heart.

Walking to one of the men in black, she was just about to crouch down when Lang Bo stopped her: “Sir, what are you doing?”

“Curious.” She uttered two words, brushing off Lang Bo’s question.

Then she pulled off the mask from one of the men in black—dark skin, rough features, with stubble.

An ordinary person. Determined to satisfy her curiosity, Ji Yunshu pulled off the masks from several other men in black one by one.

All had ordinary faces, nothing strange.

She had just stood up when her foot kicked something with a “clang.”

Looking down, a water-blue jade pendant had fallen by her foot. She bent down to pick it up and examined it carefully in her hand.

On the round jade pendant were carved several clusters of pear blossoms.

Not exactly exquisite, but quite attractive.

However, it looked somewhat familiar!