Muruo swayed in with his wine pot, his hazy eyes slightly narrowed, looking as if he might fall at any moment.

It seemed he was treating this place like a tavern!

He walked to Jingrong’s side and took out a pill from his waist, making him swallow it.

“If you die, don’t you dare say I was the one treating you.”

It would ruin my reputation!

Disgrace me!

The medicine was truly miraculous. As soon as it went down his throat, Jingrong’s wound stopped bleeding. Not only did the pain lessen, but his whole body felt especially energized.

You little brat, you didn’t give him some kind of stimulant, did you?

Jingrong recovered slightly, then asked: “How did you get in?”

Muruo shrugged. “I said I was looking for you, and those people let me in. I figured they probably wanted to kill me too, so they might as well let me in to be buried together with you all.”

Neither warm nor cold!

Jingrong choked and didn’t know how to respond.

Muruo inconspicuously placed the wine pot in his hand to the side and said softly: “Inside is sulfur powder. Use it when necessary.”

Jingrong smiled.

“You’re sober for once.”

“I’m always sober.”

He raised an eyebrow!

Jingrong said nothing.

Muruo then stood up and walked toward Ji Yunshu.

He shook his head with a trace of regret. “I didn’t expect you would also understand dispersive syndrome. What you said just now wasn’t wrong. If you don’t practice medicine, it would truly be a waste.”

Bah!

What dispersive syndrome—saying it so poetically.

Isn’t it just split personality?

Ji Yunshu had been wondering earlier—Jingrong had come, so why hadn’t this fellow shown up? Turns out he wanted to make a grand finale entrance.

She pointed with her chin at the unconscious Zhao Qing. “Can it be cured?”

“Depends on the situation.”

Speaking thus, he strode over and squatted beside Zhao Qing, turned over his arm, and took his pulse.

Zhao Huai was confused, his face darkened with caution and suspicion.

“Who are you?”

“Mo Hua is my father,” Muruo said.

Mo Hua?

Zhao Huai was surprised.

“You’re the divine physician’s son?” Zhao Huai’s wariness subsided.

“What’s so surprising about that? Who doesn’t have a son?”

The pulse-taking ended!

He then pried open Zhao Qing’s eyes for a look, then pinched his cheeks to examine his tongue. Only then did he clap his hands and said lazily: “Not bad. This illness isn’t very serious. If treated, it can be completely cured.”

Zhao Huai was overjoyed. “Really?”

“Naturally.”

“But back then, the divine physician said this illness couldn’t be cured.”

Muruo was displeased. “Illnesses that old geezer could cure, I can cure too. Illnesses that old geezer couldn’t cure, I can also cure.”

His face filled with pride, absolutely cocky.

Then he stood up and brushed off his sleeves, speaking with conditional terms: “I can help you cure him, but you have to release everyone.”

“Release them?” Zhao Huai gritted his teeth. “You killed so many of my brothers and smeared sulfur powder on the gold—you clearly wanted to blow up my Gaoshan Stronghold. How can I release you?”

“Then I won’t cure this illness. In this world today, besides me, you won’t find a second person who can cure it.”

“You…”

“You’re not at a loss.”

Damn it!

It’s a huge loss, okay?

Zhao Huai’s heart wavered uncertainly!

At this moment, Jingrong’s eyelids, which had almost been drooping, lifted. He forced himself up and walked over with slightly heavy steps.

Although injured, the prince’s imposing manner was still sufficient.

Looking at Zhao Huai, he said: “Why struggle in vain? Although Gaoshan Stronghold has many traps, making it difficult to enter and exit, your men are all weak soldiers, like scattered sand. Even if you have the advantage in numbers, the people by my side are no pushovers either. If they could kill thirty or forty of your men, they can also annihilate your several hundred or thousand men. Right now, outside, I have deployed three thousand troops who will soon arrive at the foot of the mountain. With just one command, they will attack the mountain. Even if both sides suffer in the end, your Gaoshan Stronghold will certainly be razed to the ground and become ruins. If I were you, I would stop quickly to avoid unbearable consequences.”

His tone was forceful with an undertone of coldness.

The so-called three thousand troops made Zhao Huai’s heart tremble!

Actually, he had already anticipated the current situation.

It was just that his stubborn pride and sense of loyalty were causing trouble. After all, so many of his brothers had died—how could he just stand by and ignore it?

He swept his gaze around at the brothers surrounding him.

His heart hesitated.

Finally making a decision, he gritted his teeth. “Fine, as long as you can cure Zhao Qing, you can all leave safely.”

Then he ordered people to carry Zhao Qing to the back courtyard of the stronghold.

He also hardened his heart and said to Muruo: “You must first cure Zhao Qing’s illness before you can leave. Otherwise, even if both sides suffer, I won’t hesitate.”

Muruo was shocked and troubled. “This kind of illness can’t be cured in just a short time. You don’t expect to keep us here for a year or two, do you?”

“Then five days. Within five days, as long as Zhao Qing’s condition improves, and you must also guarantee that even when you’re not here, he will continue to improve, I’ll let you leave.”

Five days?

Are you joking?

Muruo obviously couldn’t accept this.

But Jingrong spoke up: “Five days it is!”

Muruo’s eyes widened. He walked over and said: “How is five days possible?”

“Aren’t you a divine physician?”

“I’m a divine physician, not a divine physician who saves people with one needle.”

Brother, stop messing with me.

But Jingrong’s attitude was resolute. He deliberately lowered his voice and spoke into his ear: “Are you confident you can cure him?”

“With the right treatment, it’s not a big problem. But time is an issue. To cure this illness, without a year or two, it won’t work.”

“I’m not asking you to cure him completely within five days.” Jingrong said seriously: “Muruo, my original plan has already been disrupted. Now I’m injured. With just Ziran and Zijin, plus you, we can’t get out. The three thousand troops in Jingzhou haven’t received my orders and aren’t at the foot of the mountain. So a head-on confrontation won’t work. You agree to it first, so I can recuperate here, then we’ll make other plans.”

After listening, Muruo sighed.

Then he agreed to Zhao Huai’s terms.

So—

Jingrong and the others temporarily stayed in the stronghold.

Zhao Huai “played host” and kindly arranged a room, and also prepared some medicinal herbs for Jingrong—considered hospitality.

Muruo also seized the time to diagnose and treat.

Zhao Qing lay on the bed while Muruo took his pulse for a while.

His brows furrowed for a moment, then relaxed. He had someone fetch a package of silver needles and a glass lamp.

“Take off his clothes.” An order.

Bahu beside him was stunned for a moment before following the instruction and removing Zhao Qing’s clothes.

Muruo selected a slender silver needle from the needle case, held it over the flame and rotated it for a while, then inserted it into Zhao Qing’s temple acupoint.

He took several more needles and one by one inserted them into the acupoints on Zhao Qing’s head.

But when Muruo’s needle was about to pierce the left side of Zhao Qing’s throat, he noticed a fine linear mark on his neck, like a scar left by a knife cut.

Zhao Huai saw his gaze fall on Zhao Qing’s neck, and his sense of vigilance immediately exploded.

His fists clenched tightly in secret.