"Indeed, and it sounds incredibly perilous. If it fails, even the gods can't save him."
The doctors chattered amongst themselves, their consensus clear: they opposed Ye Qingcheng's decision.
"I can do it. I can definitely save him."
Ye Qingcheng looked at them, her lips pressed together, her eyes holding an unyielding resolve.
In her view, Xiao Wangye, lying on the bed, was at death's door. Only this drastic measure, this gamble, could bring him back from the brink.
Her mind made up, she disregarded their objections and stood, intending to usher them out.
The doctors exchanged weary glances and turned to leave the room.
They knew Ye Qingcheng was a trusted confidante of Xiao Wangye, and they, as local physicians, held little sway. Beyond verbal dissuasion, they had no other recourse.
Once the doctors departed, all the royal guards gathered in the courtyard, their expressions somber as they looked towards the room.
Ye Qingcheng approached the doorway and stared at them, stunned.
Yang Ming, the captain of the guards, stepped forward first, his words directly addressing Ye Qingcheng.
"Are you planning to use the 'Soul Returning Needle Technique' you mentioned? If it fails, what will be your course of action?"
Even though he was aware of her true identity, at this critical juncture, he overlooked it and questioned her with conviction.
The other guards' gazes, sharp as hawks, focused on Ye Qingcheng, exerting immense pressure. They had all overheard her conversation with the doctors, which fueled their doubts.
These guards were fiercely loyal to Xiao Wangye, prioritizing their master's life above all else. Upon hearing that Ye Qingcheng's technique would bring Xiao Wangye to the brink of death, they could not remain passive. Unlike the hidden guards, their loyalty to Ye Qingcheng was not absolute, and they began to mutter angry accusations. Even Yang Ming, the highest-ranking among them, failed to comprehend Ye Qingcheng's actions and refused to accept the reality of their master's imminent demise.
Ye Qingcheng’s lips tightened. She turned a cold gaze upon the guards in the courtyard and declared icily,
"Do not forget my status. The Prince is my husband. Naturally, I would not harm him. You merely need to fulfill your duties."
With that, she offered the guards no chance to retort, swept her robes, and returned to the room.
Watching the closed door, the guards grew agitated, but they could only vent their frustration verbally, refraining from storming into the room to confront Ye Qingcheng. Despite their worry for Xiao Wangye, they were subdued by Ye Qingcheng's presence. After all, she was the Princess Consort, their mistress, and they had no right to object.
Back inside, Ye Qingcheng sat by the bedside again, gazing at the man's face. Xiao Wangye appeared peaceful, his complexion merely pale, as if he were merely asleep. It seemed this was the first time she had seen him so tranquil, so close.
"You must believe me. You have to believe me. I will definitely save you," Ye Qingcheng whispered into Xiao Wangye's ear, tears beginning to flow uncontrollably. Drop by drop, they fell onto the bedding.
At this point, she had no other recourse but to stake everything. Despite her show of strength towards the doctors and guards, Ye Qingcheng was internally filled with unease and the fear of failure. Yet, she could only continuously reassure herself, gathering her courage to save Xiao Wangye.
That night, both those inside and outside found no sleep. Time ticked by, and Ye Qingcheng, her voice hoarse, repeatedly murmured into Xiao Wangye's ear.
You must believe her! You must wake up!
It wasn't until close to noon that she finally made her move, rising to retrieve silver needles from her medical kit. Ye Qingcheng took a deep breath, suppressing her trembling hands, and forced herself to calm down. It was nearly noon, but Xiao Wangye on the bed still had a faint breath, clearly not yet at death's door. She pursed her lips, her gaze hardening, and her hands moved swiftly.
After a set of acupuncture, Xiao Wangye's complexion changed dramatically, his blood draining away. This was a technique designed to accelerate death, intended to bring Xiao Wangye closer to his end, thereby creating an opportunity for Ye Qingcheng to employ the Soul Returning Needle Technique. As expected, after the application, his limbs immediately turned cold. His formerly pale face instantly lost its color, becoming deathly white, unlike a living person. Soon, Xiao Wangye on the bed was left with only a breath, his respiration so faint it was barely perceptible.
This was the moment!
Ye Qingcheng focused her attention on the man in the bed, her hands immediately moving. Her acupuncture technique was so swift it appeared to be a blur. The Soul Returning Needle Technique, a legend in itself, demanded immense patience and understanding. In terms of comprehension, Ye Qingcheng was among the top one in ten thousand. Since she dared to use this technique, she naturally possessed confidence. And in terms of patience, she had exerted her utmost effort. The prolonged, intense concentration and needlework had soaked her clothes with sweat. Waves of weakness washed over her, but Ye Qingcheng gritted her teeth, striving to maintain her clarity and continue her work. Even with a metallic taste filling her mouth, she paid it no mind.
Finally, after two full hours of acupuncture, the Soul Returning Needle Technique was successfully completed. At this moment, Xiao Wangye, lying on the bed, had been perfectly pulled back from the gates of hell by Ye Qingcheng, his life forcibly reclaimed.
Ye Qingcheng, as she withdrew the last needle, no longer had the strength to return them to her kit. She collapsed to the ground instantly, half her body on the bed, the other half slumped on the floor. Having not slept all night, abstained from all food and drink for the entire day, and exerting such immense mental effort to perform the Soul Returning Needle Technique, her stamina was completely depleted. However, the outcome was joyous. Xiao Wangye, who had been deathly pale, exhibiting no signs of life, was now visibly regaining his color.
Ye Qingcheng watched Xiao Wangye on the bed gradually recover. Despite the waves of dizziness that left her feeling utterly weak, she finally felt at ease. As her spirit relaxed, her nose stung, and she couldn't help but weep. From soft whimpers to outright sobbing, Ye Qingcheng seemed to release all the pressure and despair she had borne. This was her first time using the Soul Returning Needle Technique. Even with her exceptional talent, she still harbored some uncertainty. She had resolved that if the technique failed, if anything happened to Xiao Wangye, she would join him in death! It was with this conviction that she persevered, saving the man on the bed.
The increasingly loud cries echoed within the room and reached outside, sounding rather mournful. Meanwhile, in the courtyard, the royal guards remained, having stayed there the entire time, not leaving their posts.