By the time the sky was nearly bright, those waiting anxiously outside thought the treatment inside must be nearly finished. But inside the room, Jue Mingzi had only just completed his thorough examination of Baili Xiaosheng and finished explaining the details of her condition to Baili Weisheng.

“Baili Weisheng, the decision still rests with you, her master. Speak.”

The current situation was even worse than initially expected. Either they left her untreated, letting Baili Xiaosheng remain unconscious like this—perhaps she’d wake up one day on her own, or perhaps she’d never wake at all. Or, they went ahead with the treatment, removing the silver needle from her brain, though the success rate was much lower than previously estimated.

With Baili Xiaosheng unconscious, this master was the closest person she had left in the world—only he could make this decision for her.

Baili Weisheng looked at Baili Xiaosheng, falling silent for a long, long time without answering.

Finally, Jue Mingzi reminded him, “If we’re going to treat her, we can’t delay any longer. Otherwise, the success rate will only drop further.”

“Go with what she wanted. A person without a past is like grass without roots—not knowing love or hate, it will wither one day,” Baili Weisheng said quietly, and as he spoke, he gently took Baili Xiaosheng’s hand and, bit by bit, held it tightly.

Jue Mingzi nodded repeatedly. Truthfully, in that moment just now, he’d genuinely worried Baili Weisheng might give up.

Jue Mingzi briskly opened his needle case and carefully used needle after needle, using a full fifty or so needles to stabilize the relevant acupoints. Only then did he have Baili Weisheng help turn Baili Xiaosheng over, her back facing up, and begin removing the needle.

Baili Weisheng watched, unblinking, not even daring to breathe loudly, terrified of disturbing Jue Mingzi.

This step was the most critical of all—if anything went wrong, even the slightest thing, it would spell an immediate death sentence for Baili Xiaosheng.

Even Jue Mingzi himself moved with extreme caution, holding his breath.

As Baili Weisheng watched, he didn’t even notice how tightly he was gripping Baili Xiaosheng’s hand. Unconsciously, memories of the past began surfacing in his mind.

He remembered when he’d first come across this troublesome girl—she’d been so small then, wrapped in swaddling clothes, not the least bit pretty!

Back then, he hadn’t given a single thought to whether he could actually take care of an infant. He’d simply thought that, stuck in the Poison Den as he was, he ought to raise someone who would be wholeheartedly loyal to him.

And raising someone from infancy was, without a doubt, the safest approach.

Such a tiny baby! Not long after her birth, at first he had no idea why she kept crying constantly. Whether he carried her and rocked her, or let her lie in the cradle and rocked that, she just kept crying and crying.

Eventually, he simply couldn’t take it anymore, and had come very close to just abandoning her. Fortunately, an old nanny in the Poison Den happened upon him and told him the child was crying because she was hungry.

So, under the old nanny’s guidance, he’d raised a leopard so the little infant could nurse on leopard milk.

Of course, the old nanny had taught him a great many other things about raising a child too—like handling her needs. But he’d basically never managed to learn any of it, nor had he bothered trying.

Whether she wet herself or soiled herself, he simply let her be, and only changed all her clothes once at night before bed.

Thinking of this, Baili Weisheng couldn’t help but laugh, silently asking himself, You annoying girl, you probably don’t even remember those tiny details—you were a wild child who grew up amid your own filth!

Later, the annoying girl gradually grew up, no longer needing to nurse, and began learning to eat solid food like the adults.

Though he’d acted as both master and, in a sense, father and mother to her, there had never once been an occasion where he’d specially prepared a proper meal fit for a child.

Basically, whatever he ate, the annoying girl ate too. When he went hungry, she went hungry right along with him.

He found girls troublesome and preferred boys, so from the start he’d raised her as a boy—even her clothes were all boy’s clothing.

Later still, the annoying girl grew even bigger, bouncing around the Poison Den like a wild child, learning to interact with others.

Gradually, the annoying girl began learning to cook. Baili Weisheng couldn’t quite remember from what day exactly, but whenever he was in the Poison Den, she’d unfailingly deliver all three meals on time, wash all his filthy clothes spotlessly clean, dry them until they smelled thoroughly of sunshine, and clean his room until not a speck of dust remained.

As her poison skills steadily improved, she took on more and more of the Poison Den’s affairs on his behalf, and he found himself venturing out more and more often.

This part, Baili Weisheng remembered most clearly of all—every time he tried to head out, he’d have to sneak away, because the annoying girl always insisted on tagging along, no matter what, while he’d long grown used to his own freedom and didn’t like being tailed.

But a few times, she’d actually managed to find him anyway, appearing out of nowhere and startling him half to death.

To this day, he still had no idea how she’d tracked him without ever being noticed.

Baili Weisheng sank deep into these memories of the past, while Jue Mingzi’s forehead had already broken out in a sheen of sweat, his hands trembling slightly. It was at this moment that Jun Buli finally arrived.

The instant he’d returned, Hongyi had informed him of what had happened with Baili Xiaosheng.

Somewhat anxious, he followed Hongyi over, approaching Ziqing to ask quietly, “Mother, how is she doing?”

To his surprise, Ziqing glanced up at him, said nothing at all, and turned her gaze back to the tightly shut door. Jun Buli felt a pang of resentment—he knew Mother was still angry with him.

So instead he asked Jun Beiyue, who only glanced at him once, also without a word. Jun Buli, recognizing the signal, wisely retreated to stand off to the side and stayed quiet.

He knew, of course, that Mother’s attitude toward him wasn’t just a matter of the moment—it would likely persist going forward too.

But he genuinely didn’t know what else he could do.

If Mother and Father learned about his particular… tendencies, they would surely worry, surely fret over him endlessly. His parents had only just managed to settle into a peaceful life together, and he had no wish to burden them with more worry.

Having Consort Li was enough for him. She was something undying and indestructible, more than sufficient to serve his needs for a lifetime.

Besides, having Consort Li also meant she could stand in for him as the one woman of his harem—among all those countless women, there wasn’t a single one he actually cared for. If he truly had to choose, Consort Li really was his only real option.

As for the matter of continuing the royal bloodline, of expanding the family’s branches—he hadn’t given it much thought yet, and didn’t want to consider it too soon.

Once this whole business settled down, he’d need to begin discussing with Father the matter of moving troops against Nanzhao.

Just as Jun Buli was lost in thought, Situ Jing’er slipped over, standing on the railing behind him, and said quietly, “Hey, is Consort Li all right?”

“No need for the princess to concern herself!” Jun Buli replied in an oddly testy tone.

“A laxative isn’t poison—I was just teaching her a little lesson, it’s not going to kill her. You don’t need to be so anxious,” Situ Jing’er added.

Only then did Jun Buli tilt his head to look at her, giving her a once-over, quite disdainfully, without a word.

Yet Situ Jing’er didn’t seem bothered in the least. She said quietly again, “I came to tell you—I’ll be leaving in a few days.”

“And then?” Sure enough, Jun Buli’s interest was piqued.