Li Yuanying’s every day began with taking medicine.

Madam Li feared someone might secretly poison him, so the physicians prepared all medicinal decoctions in one corner of the main hall under strict supervision by her trusted palace attendants and maids. According to imperial tradition, after the medicine was boiled and the liquid extracted, it was divided into two portions. The prescribing physician would drink one bowl first to prove it was not poisoned, then Madam Li would taste it herself to check the temperature before Prince Shao could consume it.

When Huo Qi Lang was on duty with nothing to do, she would sit nearby watching them work, treating it as entertainment.

Two physicians regularly attended Prince Shao: one surnamed Lu named Qingguang, a renowned local physician from Youzhou; the other surnamed Zhu named Minhe, a personal physician brought from Chang’an. Each brought two apprentices, making six people grinding, soaking, and boiling medicines from dawn to dusk without rest.

Huo Qi Lang quickly discovered the two physicians had different responsibilities. Zhu Minhe was in charge of decoctions treating migraines, using common migraine medications like gastrodia, ligusticum, and angelica root, supplemented with expensive tonics like ginseng, deer antler, bird’s nest, and dendrobium.

Because he had to drink a bowl himself before each bowl given to the patient, Zhu Minhe’s entire complexion glowed ruddy and his spirits were high – it looked like with a little more effort he could achieve immortality.

Unfortunately, the patient himself had severe loss of appetite, finding even regular food difficult to swallow, and could only manage a few sips of the medicinal liquid before feeling nauseous. Therefore, despite the enormous expense, the therapeutic effect was virtually nonexistent.

Physician Lu Qingguang’s division of labor was completely different. He brought five large medicine boxes, each with over ten drawers, totaling seventy to eighty types of medicinal ingredients – truly comprehensive.

Lu Qingguang worked like an alchemical master. Besides two or three fixed base medicines, he added other combinations with a very casual attitude, throwing a few ingredients into the medicine pot. After boiling, he wouldn’t test it himself but simply had a palace attendant bring it over for Li Yuanying to smell.

After smelling it, Li Yuanying would shake his head, and the bowl of medicinal liquid would be discarded without anyone drinking it. Lu Qingguang would cross out this formula on paper and try a different combination with minor adjustments next time.

Watching this, Huo Qi Lang felt puzzled – this celestial noble not only had “dish inspection” for meals but even “medicine inspection” for taking medicine. When she asked Lu Qingguang what therapeutic effect smelling medicine had, he cautiously replied that the prince knew what he was doing, and as someone who merely prepared medicines, it wasn’t his place to inquire further.

Besides these two resident physicians, several other renowned Youzhou doctors frequently visited to take Prince Shao’s pulse and perform acupuncture. His condition showed no improvement, putting considerable pressure on the medical team. Though Prince Shao paid diagnostic fees generously, with Princess Wangshou’s example before them, treating the imperial family was risky – one mistake could cost their heads. All treatment plans aimed for safety and gentleness, not daring to use strong measures.

If the migraines couldn’t be cured and the depression couldn’t be treated, treating symptoms instead of the root cause was acceptable.

For his severe headaches and insomnia, Zhu Minhe had proposed using calming decoctions for relief, but the formula contained cinnabar, realgar, and lead frost – all ingredients for alchemical pills. While they could induce unconsciousness temporarily, prolonged use would prevent awakening – fighting poison with poison, harming oneself in the process. Therefore, this treatment was never implemented.

Reviewing Li Yuanying’s various symptoms, though none were fatal diseases, he endured continuous piecemeal torment. Huo Qi Lang now understood why he had wanted to starve himself before receiving the carp message – if not for news of his sister’s survival rekindling his will to live, he might as well have ended it all by starving to death.

That night after he finished bathing, everyone withdrew from the main hall to maintain absolute quiet.

Li Yuanying read for a while, but after reading two lines he felt dizzy and needed to rest. The candlelight fell on the paper, making the characters appear as double images. Unable to continue, he couldn’t even hold the scroll and had to give up.

Remembering Madam Li’s instructions before she left, Huo Qi Lang tried to get him to take more medicine before sleep. She lifted the linked steamer on the stove – three steam pots contained various carefully prepared porridges and pastries, but it was futile; he never ate them.

Huo Qi Lang treated them as duty snacks, first pinching a piece of bean paste-filled transparent glutinous rice cake into her mouth, then taking out the medicine bowl and bringing it to Li Yuanying. He stared at it for a long time, barely managed two reluctant sips before pushing it away, sighing: “I can no longer taste anything.”

Huo Qi Lang took the bowl from his hands and gulped down a mouthful, draining half the bowl, then licked her lips: “It has some ginseng flavor – not hard to drink at all.”

“If taste is declining, then smell might not be accurate either.”

After this puzzling statement, Li Yuanying fell silent for a moment, then commanded: “Go get Lu Qingguang’s medicine pot and smell the remaining dregs.”

Huo Qi Lang, confused, did as instructed. Returning to the bedside with the medicine dregs, she reported: “Just ordinary medicinal brewing smell.”

Li Yuanying felt for the jade box by his pillow and opened it, taking out a bamboo-green floating brocade pouch. This box was where he kept important items. When palace attendants changed his bedding daily, Madam Li would personally hold this jade box in her arms, never letting it leave his sight. It also contained the carp message Bao Zhu had sent.

The pouch’s material and embroidery were exquisitely elegant, though the color appeared somewhat faded and the silk had lost its luster – it seemed to have been used for many years.

“Smell this, then compare it with Lu Qingguang’s medicine dregs.”

Huo Qi Lang realized this must be an extremely precious item and carefully took it, untying the pouch strings. Inside she found not some rare treasure, but ordinary, unremarkable mud. She leaned in to smell carefully – amid the earthy scent was indeed a faint medicinal aroma.

Comparing it with the fresh medicine dregs in the pot, she pondered for a while and said: “I can only distinguish that both contain notoginseng and agrimony.”

Li Yuanying had anticipated this result and hadn’t held much hope. His expression remained calm as he took back the pouch and returned it to the jade box by his pillow.

Huo Qi Lang said puzzledly: “Notoginseng and agrimony are both hemostatic medicines – they don’t match your symptoms at all.”

Li Yuanying said quietly: “That’s not my medicine.”

Huo Qi Lang thought: No wonder you wouldn’t drink a drop and just poured it out after smelling. She spoke truthfully: “Actually, oral decoctions have limited hemostatic effects. For heavy bleeding, directly pressing the wound with hands, tying cloth strips near the heart end, and prompt suturing are what truly stop bleeding.”

As she spoke, she demonstrated on her own body. People of the martial world inevitably suffered frequent injuries, and all sects had unique methods for treating external wounds. Chen Shigu, who often dealt with corpses, was very knowledgeable about internal human anatomy and particularly skilled in this area.

“Speaking of processed and sifted Guanyin clay pressed on wounds – that does have astringent hemostatic effects. However, what’s in that pouch is just ordinary courtyard soil. Using it would only worsen the wound.”

Li Yuanying listened carefully for a while, his eyes growing increasingly dim. He only said: “Unfortunately, it’s not external bleeding.”

Huo Qi Lang said regretfully: “Internal injury? That’s rather troublesome.”

She thought: Lu Qingguang’s casual medicine preparation was because he had no fixed formula. He was referencing the scent in this soil, trying repeatedly to match and find the medicinal formula within the dirt.

But who would mix medicinal decoctions with mud? Why would he treasure this bag of soil like a precious object?

Huo Qi Lang proposed several cases of external injuries causing internal bleeding, but Li Yuanying had no intention of continuing this topic and didn’t respond. His eyes were melancholic, showing the exhaustion of countless failed attempts. He waved for her to take away the medicine pot.

As night deepened with heavy dew, the incense clock had reached the hour of hai (9-11 PM) – time to lie down but unable to sleep. Li Yuanying wanted to remove his outer robe but couldn’t unfasten his jade belt buckle.

Since his serious illness, his fingertips had gradually become numb, unable to perform precise movements. Even holding a brush to write would produce distorted characters. He couldn’t help thinking despondently: would he be able to hold on until Bao Zhu arrived?

After several unsuccessful attempts, he had no choice but to command: “Come help me change clothes.”

Hearing this, Huo Qi Lang immediately became excited. She pulled out a cloth to wipe her hands, then drew her sheathed horizontal sword from her waist and leaned it against the desk.

In this deep night quiet, Li Yuanying saw through the screen her silhouette slowly drawing the blade. For some reason, he suddenly felt an inexplicable chill and instinctively sensed that calling her for help wasn’t wise. He immediately pulled back from the precipice, made another effort, and finally managed to unfasten the buckle in time, then called out to stop her: “Never mind!”

Huo Qi Lang poked her head out from behind the screen, asking with regret in her voice: “Does the prince no longer need service?”

Li Yuanying had already drawn the brocade curtains closed, completely concealing his figure.

From outside the curtains came a loud “tsk.”

Li Yuanying felt a trace of confusion. Originally, when his trusted people arranged her in the guard quarters, he had felt it somewhat inappropriate. But recently, according to Yuan Shaibo’s observations, the newcomer had quickly integrated into the guard team. She was very familiar with military discipline and life, seeming to be someone who had served as a soldier. Not only that, she called his longtime loyal followers brothers and got along like a fish in water.

Though disguise techniques could change appearances and transform everything, she had no intention of dressing as a man and didn’t even bother covering the scar on her face. Acting as she pleased without concern, showing her true face to the world – this was a freedom he could hardly imagine.

He wondered if all martial world people were so independent. Though she often said absurd things, the aggressiveness she occasionally displayed was even stronger than many ambitious generals. Should he handle her like a general, offering heavy rewards?

Besides this, there were many more important plans that needed continued advancement. Only with physical security could the Way prosper, and currently his greatest burden was this body…

The night watch drums sounded again and again. His consciousness was utterly exhausted, thoughts fragmented, yet sleep would not come.

The bed surrounded by brocade curtains seemed like a lone boat, casting him adrift in boundless emptiness. Only the occasional caw or two from crows on the hall roof broke the night’s silence, proving this was still the mortal world.

Huo Qi Lang lay on the foot couch keeping him company, knowing he couldn’t sleep. She asked aloud: “Do you need me to go up and drive the crows away?”

Li Yuanying said gloomily: “No need. They are unpaid guards – if someone were spying from the rooftop, the crows would give warning.”

Huo Qi Lang thought this was indeed a good method and asked curiously: “Who would eavesdrop in the middle of the night?”

“Chang’an, Youzhou, even within the manor…” Everything was under enemy surveillance, which was why he needed a dual identity.

Birds also needed sleep at night, not as noisy and clamorous as during the day, but in the deep night quiet, even an occasional sound seemed particularly distinct.

Huo Qi Lang muttered: “Still quite annoying.”

Staring at the bed canopy top in darkness, Li Yuanying unconsciously placed his hand on the jade box by his pillow, as if drawing invisible strength from it to support his continued struggle. It was the power of hatred, and the power of familial love.

Though crows were ugly, they had one virtue he fell far short of: ‘When the young grow strong and can fly, they carry food to feed their parents in return.’ Crow mothers nurture young crows, and when the young crows grow up, they feed their mothers in return, repaying the debt of nurturing. Unless the mother departed before them…

Huo Qi Lang pillowed her head on her arm and suddenly laughed: “The prince’s life appears comfortable with adequate food and clothing, but with a flock of crows watching from the roof and a group of black-clothed crows standing night watch at the door, it’s like being closely guarded by jailers, unable to escape freely.”

In the darkness, Li Yuanying smiled bitterly in acknowledgment.

Author’s Note:

“When the young grow strong and can fly, they carry food to feed their parents in return” – “Crow Rhapsody” by Cheng Gongsui

This passage illustrates one difference between Tang dynasty architecture and modern construction: the interior of a building often wasn’t divided by walls into several rooms, but remained entirely open, using screens to separate functional spaces.