Wen Qingci never knew that Xie Bufeng was so skilled at pushing his luck.
Since then, whenever the poison flared up, Xie Bufeng would cling to Wen Qingci, holding him in his arms like an antidote and refusing to let go.
Completely lacking any emperor-like behavior.
Although it was late summer, the temperature hadn’t decreased in the slightest.
Xie Bufeng was tall and could completely envelop Wen Qingci in his embrace, which could be described as scorching hot.
Even Wen Qingci, with his special constitution and lower body temperature than most people, felt somewhat hot.
But he didn’t push Xie Bufeng away.
Wen Qingci applied the rigor and seriousness he used in medicine to this situation.
He treated the embraces as experiments, and after several attempts, he finally confirmed… that he didn’t seem to dislike Xie Bufeng’s embraces.
*
The Imperial physician brought the prepared medicine on schedule.
The prescriptions Wen Qingci sent daily for preparation were all different.
Though it was still the same physician as last time, today he finally stopped chatting with Wen Qingci about irrelevant matters.
After setting down the medicine, he couldn’t help asking: “I see that your prescriptions all use potent formulas. May I ask where you received your training? This style… I’ve truly never seen it before.”
Wen Qingci removed the cover from the food box and replied: “The use of potent formulas wasn’t taught by my master.”
“I understand!” The young physician’s eyes immediately brightened. “You figured it out yourself.”
Wen Qingci smiled lightly: “I suppose so.”
Without the white gauze covering his mouth and nose, Wen Qingci’s voice sounded extremely clear and pleasant, like jade beads falling onto the ground.
…What a fine temperament.
The young physician was momentarily dazed, the tips of his ears turning red.
He paused, hastily cleared his throat, and said: “To be honest, many people in the Imperial Medical Bureau are very interested in your prescriptions and your work in Lianhe. They want to learn from you secretly.”
“Learn from me?” Wen Qingci was startled, and his movements stopped.
His reputation as the “Rakshasa” had been too prominent; previously, even in the Imperial Medical Bureau, his colleagues had always maintained distance from him.
Before this, Wen Qingci hadn’t imagined that one day someone would be interested in his medical practices.
Realizing his tone had been too strong and fearing misunderstanding, Wen Qingci had to add: “As an Imperial physician, why would you want to learn from me?”
Although no one would say it directly, court physicians had always looked down on self-taught practitioners.
The other smiled: “Your approach in Lianhe has already been spread by His Majesty to every prefecture. This is the foundation of establishing a new school of thought!”
The plague had erupted almost yearly in different places, in different ways.
Before this year, when commoners encountered the plague, they could only resign themselves to fate.
Until Wen Qingci appeared, only then did people finally have a solution.
Unlike when he fought alone without being understood years ago, everything he did in Lianhe was endorsed by officials, even by the emperor himself.
Xie Bufeng was using imperial authority to make the world accept Wen Qingci’s medical concepts.
Therefore, the young physician’s words weren’t exaggerated.
What Wen Qingci had done in Lianhe had been widely disseminated.
Even because of the success in Lianhe, some people no longer resisted “dissection.”
After all, compared to dying completely intact, they preferred to live.
Throughout the Wei Dynasty, medical concepts were silently changing because of this matter.
From this perspective, Wen Qingci might indeed be “establishing a new school of thought.”
The young Imperial physician gazed at Wen Qingci with anticipation.
He paused, thought for a moment, and finally spoke slowly: “When varieties are too numerous, treatments necessarily become complicated. All prescriptions should avoid this approach.”
Wen Qingci had never encountered someone interested in his prescriptions before.
Seeing the physician’s curiosity, he simply began analyzing the ingredients one by one.
“…That makes sense.” The young physician could only nod in response.
Wen Qingci glanced at the medicinal soup in his hand and added: “If I’m not mistaken, although you’ve prepared this medicine well, the soaking time is still somewhat insufficient.”
Few people in the Wei Dynasty usually paid attention to this detail.
“You mean I should soak it for a longer period?”
Wen Qingci nodded slowly: “Yes. A longer soaking time allows the components to dissolve more fully.”
“I understand, I understand,” the physician nodded repeatedly, then added somewhat embarrassedly, “It seems the medicine I’ve delivered still doesn’t quite meet your requirements. Tomorrow, you’ll see improvement!”
In truth, the medicine he had prepared was already very good; it was just that Wen Qingci’s standards were exceptionally high.
But seeing his eagerness about tomorrow’s prescription, Wen Qingci smiled gently and replied: “Alright.”
Having shared hardships together in Lianhe, after discussing this prescription, the physician couldn’t help asking carefully: “How long do you plan to stay in Yongdu this time?”
After speaking, he seemed to remember something and said: “Ah… why am I asking you this? This isn’t something you can control. It depends on when His Majesty is willing to let you leave.”
Clearly, he still firmly believed that Wen Qingci was a substitute that Xie Bufeng had found.
“Ah…” The physician sighed softly again and said, “But this is actually perfect!”
“How is it perfect?” Wen Qingci asked curiously.
“Not just me, many colleagues are interested in your medical skills. In the future, if His Majesty… becomes tired of you, ahem, or if his supervision isn’t so strict, you could come talk with us and teach us a thing or two.”
Wen Qingci’s fingers moved involuntarily.
Ignoring words like “supervision,” Wen Qingci found that he actually had developed some interest in what the other was saying.
…Childhood memories were nightmares that accompanied Wen Qingci throughout his life.
He didn’t want there to be a second Shanyujian in the world.
If he wanted to achieve this goal, he couldn’t rely on himself alone.
Although in his previous life Wen Qingci had only studied until his sophomore year before transmigrating here, he had still benefited from his era, possessing a more advanced way of thinking.
If it disappeared with his death, that would be truly regrettable.
If he could pass on this mindset, it would naturally be a good thing.
The Imperial Medical Bureau had the best physicians of this era.
Being able to exchange ideas with them would certainly be ideal.
But that also meant that he would have to temporarily stay here… stay by Xie Bufeng’s side.
Just thinking about this issue made Wen Qingci’s heart skip half a beat.
Seeing his hesitation, the young physician very naturally placed his hand on Wen Qingci’s shoulder: “What do you think? Give it some good consideration.”
Wen Qingci had somewhat of a cleanliness obsession and didn’t much like close contact with others.
He instinctively wanted to avoid the other’s hand.
But before Wen Qingci could move, a familiar voice sounded behind the two of them.
Xie Bufeng, dressed in a black brocade robe, walked over from the side hall.
“—Your, Your Majesty?”
“Uh, long live the Emperor, long, long live!”
This is terrible, he had just been gossiping about His Majesty’s rumored affair right in front of him!
The young physician’s vision instantly darkened.
However, Xie Bufeng didn’t even spare him a glance. Ignoring the ashen-faced physician, he gently embraced Wen Qingci and then murmured: “…Tired of?”
The current Emperor’s speech was extremely slow, as if carefully savoring these two words.
In the end, Xie Bufeng actually said softly in Wen Qingci’s ear, right in front of that physician: “We will never tire of you. We… only fear that one day you will tire of us.”
Xie Bufeng’s tone revealed his insecurity.
As he spoke, he slowly tightened his arms, embracing Wen Qingci more firmly.
Every action revealed his unease.
The young physician, kneeling on the ground, was stunned for a moment, then immediately widened his eyes.
His Majesty, being tired of?
…What joke was this?
Xie Bufeng suddenly lowered his voice, pressing his lips near Wen Qingci’s lips, asking in a voice only the two of them could hear: “Will you?”
“What, what?” At this moment, half of Wen Qingci’s body had gone weak and numb.
He struggled to stand there, his mind blank.
Wen Qingci heard Xie Bufeng softly ask: “Will you tire of me?”
Wen Qingci had once feared Xie Bufeng, had avoided him, but at this moment he realized—he had indeed never disliked him.
In that instant, the dissection scalpel in his hand seemed to penetrate a bit deeper.
Wen Qingci clearly realized that he had never tired of Xie Bufeng.
“No, I won’t.”
Wen Qingci slowly raised his eyes, looking at those light amber eyes as he spoke.
His tone was utterly sincere.
The next moment, Xie Bufeng, finally losing control, held Wen Qingci’s waist with one hand while gently lifting the veiled hat with the other, placing a kiss devoid of any lust upon his eyes.
Wen Qingci didn’t know just how important his answer was to Xie Bufeng.
Nor did he understand how much Xie Bufeng, as the supreme ruler, feared hearing the words “tired of” from his mouth.
——————————
In the side hall of the Imperial Medical Bureau, at Wen Qingci’s strong insistence, Xie Bufeng finally lit all the lamps.
With no familiar faces around, Wen Qingci no longer wore his veiled hat.
“Your Majesty’s pulse remains chaotic, but fortunately your constitution is strong. Although the poison is aggressively eroding, it hasn’t damaged your internal organs.” After checking his pulse, Wen Qingci removed his hand from Xie Bufeng’s wrist.
His tone carried a hint of envy.
It had to be said that Xie Bufeng’s constitution was truly exceptional.
Even poisoned, his physical condition was much better than Wen Qingci’s own.
Xie Bufeng lowered his gaze and gently shook his head: “That’s because I once drank Qingci’s blood.”
Seeing Wen Qingci about to stand up, Xie Bufeng suddenly gently took his left hand.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked softly.
Xie Bufeng’s eyes were filled with guilt and tenderness.
Back then, Wen Qingci’s blood wouldn’t stop flowing, forcing them to rely on silver needles to seal the acupoints.
Xie Bufeng had witnessed with his own eyes the half-inch long, cold silver needles piercing Wen Qingci’s arm, as if they would penetrate right through him.
As he spoke, Xie Bufeng rolled up Wen Qingci’s sleeve.
His left arm was covered in scars.
On the pale skin, besides the snake bite scar, one could see the wounds left by the silver needles that had pierced his flesh.
