Xiaotao’s eyes widened, and she immediately turned to look at Yue Jianfei not far away.

At this moment, even Yang Hong was badly startled. She took a deep breath and also looked toward the people outside.

Feng Jiu’er stared at the handkerchief in her hand and suddenly frowned. “This looks so strange. It almost looks like vomited blood.”

When she looked at Xiaotao again, the anger in her eyes had grown even heavier.

“What’s going on here? Were you trying to make your mistress think she’s so gravely ill she’s vomiting blood? What are your intentions?”

In a moment of “agitation,” Feng Jiu’er grabbed Xiaotao with one hand and flung her a full ten feet away.

With a loud bang, Xiaotao’s body slammed into the corner of a table and crashed to the floor.

Feng Jiu’er’s frame looked even more slight and petite than the maid Xiaotao’s.

Even Tang Xiaohua probably hadn’t expected her to possess such internal strength—tossing someone aside so casually—let alone anyone else present, except for Xiao Yingtao.

“Dr. Yang, don’t be afraid! With Master Yue here, this servant can’t harm you.” Feng Jiu’er turned back and crouched beside Yang Hong.

Yang Hong glanced up at her, then lowered her head, her gaze settling on Yue Jianfei.

“Dr. Yang.” Feng Jiu’er gave Yang Hong no chance to speak. “Let me examine your condition.”

“You’re a healer who can’t heal herself—come, let me take a look.”

Yang Hong turned aside, dodging Feng Jiu’er’s touch.

“Master Yue, I… Xiaotao, she’s not… she didn’t mean it, I… Xiaotao, are you all right? Cough…”

Feng Jiu’er ignored her, gripping Yang Hong’s wrist with one hand and pulling her up.

Yang Hong glared at Feng Jiu’er, trying to shake her off. “What are you doing? You…”

But she was no match for Feng Jiu’er, especially now that she was supposedly in such an “weakened” state.

Feng Jiu’er pulled Yang Hong up and pressed her down onto the bed.

“As for this bowl of medicine—why don’t you drink it.” She held the medicine in her other hand, bringing it to Yang Hong’s lips.

“As for the old master’s illness, Master Yue said it’s been entrusted to me. Don’t worry!”

Feng Jiu’er looked at Yang Hong, the smile at the corner of her mouth carrying a hint of malice.

Feng Jiu’er despised women like Yang Hong intensely—to seize another woman’s husband, she would stop at nothing.

But what angered Feng Jiu’er most was that Yang Hong had exploited a sick patient for her own ends, something she absolutely could not allow.

Feng Jiu’er was certain that if Yang Hong hadn’t gone to such lengths to block the Yue family from seeking other physicians, the old man’s condition would certainly be much better by now.

“I’ve heard that if you drink back the heart’s blood you’ve drawn out, you can recover. Dr. Yang, come, let me feed you.”

Feng Jiu’er stared at Yang Hong, forcing out each word one by one.

The sight was quite chilling!

Feng Jiu’er was truly angry now—when she got angry, even the air around her carried a chill.

At this moment, she was, to put it mildly, terrifying.

Xiao Yingtao, watching Feng Jiu’er’s back, didn’t feel good about any of this either.

She let go of Tang Xiaohua’s hand and stepped forward.

“You… let go of my mistress.” Xiaotao, covered in bruises, had finally managed to stand.

Before she could even get close, she was once again grabbed by the collar and flung aside by Xiao Yingtao.

Another scream of pain from Xiaotao rang out in the room.

Yang Hong was so stunned by Feng Jiu’er that she didn’t even realize she was being force-fed medicine.

The medicine going down her throat was bitter and harsh, jolting her sharply back to her senses, and she shoved Feng Jiu’er away.

Feng Jiu’er let go accordingly, and the medicine in her hand spilled across the floor.

Yang Hong sat on the bed, retching uncontrollably.

Feng Jiu’er turned to look at the overturned bowl on the floor and sighed softly. “What a perfectly good bowl of medicine, gone to waste like that.”

“Even though it was just ordinary medicine mixed with chicken blood, at least that servant spent a whole night searching the back mountain for it. What a shame!”

“What are you talking about? What chicken blood? I don’t understand what you mean.” Xiaotao braced herself against the table and struggled to her feet, making her way toward the bed.

“Miss, are you all right! Miss, what’s wrong?”

“Stop pretending. Smearing your face with white powder every day—doesn’t that get uncomfortable?” Feng Jiu’er walked up to Yue Jianfei and stopped.

“Master Yue, you saw it yourself when that servant slaughtered the chicken. Dr. Yang vomiting blood every day is nothing more than safflower juice.”

“If you don’t believe me, you can have someone wash her face—her complexion will undoubtedly be better than Sister Hua’s, whom you’ve neglected for half a year.”

“If you still trust her, you’re welcome to keep letting her treat the old master. As for me, I won’t be sticking around.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced at Yue Jianfei, then turned and took Tang Xiaohua’s hand.

“Sister Hua, let’s go have some tea. By the way, your family’s wine really isn’t anything special—tea is much healthier.”

Tang Xiaohua met Feng Jiu’er’s gaze and smiled faintly.

She didn’t say a single word, turning to leave together with Feng Jiu’er and Xiao Yingtao.

After the three women and the two servant boys left, the room fell silent.

Yang Hong looked at Yue Jianfei, pushed Xiaotao away, got off the bed, and knelt down.

“Master Yue, I truly don’t know what Miss Long was talking about. Master Yue, I…”

Before Yang Hong could finish, Yue Jianfei gave a cold snort, swept his sleeve, and turned to walk out.

Yang Hong had never seen Yue Jianfei this angry before. Disregarding her own “ill health,” she immediately stood and chased after him.

“Master Yue, don’t go! Master Yue.”

Just before leaving the room, Yue Jianfei stopped.

“Why did you deceive me? If that’s the case, was even the old medicine immortal of Qipan Mountain fake as well?”

“No! Master Yue, that’s not how it is, I didn’t…”

“Don’t come near me!” Yue Jianfei cut her off coldly. “Just tell me one thing right now—what exactly have you been giving my father to drink this past half year?”

Yang Hong froze where she stood, not daring to step closer.

She took several deep breaths, looking as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t bring herself to.

Yue Jianfei waited a moment, and when the person behind him still didn’t speak, he started walking again.

“Master Yue.” Yang Hong lunged forward suddenly, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

Yue Jianfei shook her off with a look of disgust, and Yang Hong, unable to keep her footing, fell to the ground.

“Master Yue.” The one who had fallen looked up, eyes brimming with tears, at the tall man before her.

Yue Jianfei turned and glanced at Yang Hong, what little pity he’d had for her long since vanished.

“Such strength, and even now, you still want to deceive me!”

“Master Yue, I’m not, I…” Yang Hong shook her head violently.

“Hmph!” Yue Jianfei gave a cold snort, once again cutting Yang Hong off.

Yang Hong startled, then immediately stood up. “Master Yue, don’t leave.”

“Everything I’ve done has been for your sake. Do you remember? Five years ago, the girl you saved in Black Wind Forest.”

Yang Hong was already in tears, and without waiting for Yue Jianfei to respond, she continued. “Master Yue, I am that girl.”

Yue Jianfei turned back, studying the person on the ground carefully, his thick brows furrowing deeper. “So it was you.”

“But if I saved your life, why would you then go and harm my father?”