Chapter 567: What if I told you that in addition to the traditional Chinese cheongsam, there are also styles with high slits or styles that incorporate modern fashion elements?
Lu Tong was very clever, so she played the two proud children of heavens, Ji Xun and Pei Yunmeng, around with ease.
But she was also very foolish, or else she wouldn’t have accused herself of theft in front of all the medical officers, heedless of her life.
The medication bowl now empty in her hands, there were shallow stains from the medicine on the bowl’s side, dried and clinging to the porcelain like indelible blots.
Cui Min looked down with contempt flickering in his eyes.
He was wary of Pei Yunmeng and Ji Xun, but now the epilepsy of Qi Yutai had become his lifeline, for even Grand Preceptor Qi wouldn’t let harm come his way for the sake of Qi Yutai.
To strike a dog, one must consider its master, and if Lu Tong had someone standing behind her, wasn’t he the same?
Everyone relied on their own backing, after all.
He and Lu Tong were but playthings to the power elites, mere dogs.
As he thought this, suddenly, his right eyelid twitched.
Cui Min raised his hand, pressing down on his eyelid.
For the past few days, his eyelid had twitched every now and then, and Cui Min always felt uneasy, as if some major event was about to happen.
He shook his head, trying to dismiss this absurd premonition when suddenly, footsteps hurried in the night.
The servant holding the lantern raced to the study’s door and fell to his knees: "Master, someone from the Grand Preceptor’s Mansion has arrived!"
Cui Min was stunned.
A sense of ominous foreboding grew stronger within him as he rose to his feet, staring intently at the man before him: "What has happened?"
The servant lifted his head, speaking anxiously.
"They say Young Master Qi woke up after taking his medicine at night, but by evening he started to have another episode!"
Cui Min was so startled, his grip loosened inadvertently.
"Bang——"
The sound of shattering was particularly harsh in the night.
The porcelain medicine bowl fell to the ground, the leftover medicine mixing with the white porcelain shards under the lamp’s light, too blurred to see clearly.
And his face was paler than the broken porcelain pieces.
He muttered: "What did you say?"
...
In the deep of night, the Grand Preceptor’s Mansion was more chaotic than during the day.
Footsteps hurried across the courtyard intermittently; under the dimly lit courtyard lanterns, subdued growls and the sounds of items being smashed seeped through the window cracks along with faint cries and wails, lending a terrifying air to the night.
Inside the room, Qi Qing had a solemn expression.
Qi Yutai, held down by two servants, had wild hair and bloodshot eyes. He was struggling fiercely, attempting to break free from the grip of those beside him, thrashing his limbs wildly and claiming that someone was persecuting him.
"...He was fine during the day, took his medicine at dusk, lay on the bed, and then something was wrong by nightfall," a maid explained, head bowed, to the hastily arriving Cui Min.
Cui Min felt a chill descend over his heart at the sight of Qi Yutai’s condition.
He clearly had another attack, and it was more severe than the last.
Muffled coughs echoed in the room.
Qi Qing put down his silk handkerchief, looking at Cui Min. His dull old eyes under the lantern light grew grayer, resembling long dead fish eyes emitting a strange, deathly stillness that sent shivers down one’s spine.
"Envoy Cui," he coughed a few times before slowly speaking: "Didn’t you say that my son’s illness was already cured?"
Cui Min felt as if his heart was once again suspended by a thin thread as he faced the old man’s interrogating gaze, struggling to breathe.
He bent forward, bowing his head: "Sir, the Young Master has a slight fever; previously he was frightened by fire, which led to a pathogenic wind combining with yang, the wind entering the blood..."
"Although the medicine has gradually improved his condition, the Young Master previously had an insufficiency of heart blood; the fire augmented the blood deficiency, and now his panic attacks and abnormal states are recurring, still due to weak internal organs, which resulted in the soul being damaged."
He wiped the sweat from his forehead: "Please grant me a little more time, sir. I will do my utmost to treat the Young Master!"
Qi Qing remained silent.
The weight of his gaze rested heavily on Cui Min’s shoulders, like a great stone. While the censer in the room was clearly filled with ice, chilling the air, he felt as if he were slowly being roasted in the furnace, the cold sweat seeping from his entire being.
After a long while, Qi Qing sighed softly.
The old man’s eyelids slightly lifted, his dim eyes shadowed as if covered in a white film, his emotions inscrutable.
"You have my thanks, Envoy."
He spoke calmly, as if the afflicted was not his son.
"To control the illness is to extend life; to bear with strength is to court a violent death. I have but one son and daughter, with Yutai being frail since childhood. Therefore, I have been meticulously caring for him over the years, to avert the slightest mistake."
"To ensure his safe growth, the Qi family has built bridges and paved roads, widely performing charitable deeds, accumulating virtue in the hopes of blessing. Yet it seems heaven is unbalanced, continuously subjecting my son to undeserved disasters."
He looked at Qi Yutai, who was being yanked on the bed, his gaze filled with what seemed to be pity, and a hint of faint revulsion.
"Throughout Shengjing, only Envoy Cui is renowned for medical skills and moral character, so whenever Yutai is afflicted, we must trouble the Envoy to be concerned."
"It is my duty and responsibility, and I dare not claim credit," replied Cui Min.