Volume 1, Chapter 6: Song Shuning, Unable to Cry or Laugh

Song Shuning was sleeping soundly when she was suddenly hoisted from her bed. As she opened her mouth to scream, a hand clamped over her lips, faster than she could react. "Miss Song, our Master requests your presence."

Song Shuning glared. Is this how you invite people? In the dead of night, dragging someone out of their bed? If she hadn't been gutsy, someone more timid would have been scared to death—would they still be able to accept an invitation then?

She gave a slight nod to show she understood. Only then did Mo Feng release her. Song Shuning lowered her voice. "Wait a moment. Let me put on some clothes."

Mo Feng nodded and leaped out through the window. Watching him vanish, Song Shuning scrambled to grab her clothes, threw them on haphazardly, and tied her sash before running to the window to call out, "Hey, you! I'm ready."

Mo Feng reappeared in the room. Seeing her disheveled state, his eyes twitched. Song Shuning coughed, feeling a bit awkward. "I'm not very good at dressing myself in these kinds of clothes."

"Does Miss Song need to prepare anything else?" Mo Feng avoided looking at her.

Song Shuning shook her head. "Do you have silver needles there?"

Surely a big shot like him would be highly guarded; he wouldn't want outsiders bringing their own things, right? As expected, Mo Feng nodded. "We do, along with medicine. If you only need silver needles or herbs, there is no need to prepare anything."

"Oh, then there's nothing else to bring," Song Shuning said.

Mo Feng nodded, muttered a quick "forgive me," and hoisted her onto his shoulder. He leaped out the window, ascended to the rooftop, and began speeding across the skyline of the capital.

Carried over Mo Feng’s shoulder, Song Shuning clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, tears welling in her eyes. She had truly never seen an invitation like this! Those stories about sweeping someone off their feet while holding them by the waist were all lies!

The world was spinning, and she felt like she might throw up her dinner at any moment. The wind whistled past her ears, tears streamed down her face, and she felt as though her heart were being rattled right out of her chest.

When she finally touched the ground, she clutched her aching stomach and immediately doubled over to retch. Mo Feng looked at her messy hair and tangled clothes, his eyes twitching again. Miss Song didn't look like this earlier, did she? Well, the clothes were one thing, but her hair—it hadn't looked like a bird's nest when she left. Did she change her hairstyle on the way?

Song Shuning was unaware of his thoughts. If she had known, she would have shouted, "Who do you think is to blame for this?"

Thinking of his master's condition, Mo Feng didn't dwell on her hair. He stepped forward. "Miss Song, are you alright?"

Song Shuning raised a hand to stop him; she didn't want to hear his voice right now. After a few more dry heaves, she stood up, adjusted her hair as best she could, and asked, "Where is the young master?"

"The Master is soaking in the bathhouse. Please, follow me." Mo Feng led her inside.

Seeing the massive bath, Song Shuning couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Poverty truly limited her imagination; this was bigger than the hot spring pools she used to visit with classmates. You call this a bathhouse? This was a hundred-square-meter swimming pool!

The other guards, seeing her disheveled appearance, exchanged skeptical glances. The leader among them pulled Mo Feng aside, not bothering to lower his voice: "Are you sure you brought a doctor? Not a lunatic?"

Song Shuning: "..." I can hear you!

Mo Feng nodded. "Yes. She understands the Master's condition and knew exactly what kind of torture he suffers daily just by taking his pulse. She said she has a way to alleviate his pain!"

Song Shuning nodded along. That's right, she could! So, show some respect—who are you calling a lunatic? She was a genuine descendant of a legendary physician! If they pushed her too far... well, even if they did, she wasn't in a position to do much about it.

Just as she was lost in thought, Shen Qiyuan suddenly emerged from the water. Seeing the pool filled with ice and Shen Qiyuan’s skin turned bright red from the cold, she widened her eyes. "What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Get out!"

If he kept soaking like this, wouldn't he end up with frostbite everywhere? And in such freezing water, it would cause so much damage to his health!

"Frostbite can be treated with medicine," Mo Feng said, walking in with a somber face. "The Master's pain can only be eased in ice water; otherwise, his skin would fester from the internal heat."

Shen Qiyuan opened his eyes, glanced at Song Shuning, and spoke in a hoarse voice. "You've arrived?"

Seeing Shen Qiyuan, whose skin and even eyes were flushed red, a sense of indescribable distress washed over her. She nodded at him and turned to Mo Feng. "Bring the silver needles."

The needles had been prepared. Upon her request, a guard immediately brought them over. Song Shuning looked at the shirtless Shen Qiyuan and sighed. "I will first use the needles to seal your senses, then have your guards lift you out. Once you've changed, I will perform the treatment."

Noticing his stoic expression, she added, "I will seal your senses for a moment, so you won't feel any pain while you move."

She began to apply the needles. A moment later, she wrung out her damp sleeves and told Mo Feng, "Lift him out. Be careful not to disturb the needles. Help him change his clothes."

Shen Qiyuan frowned, his voice still raspy. "I'll do it myself."

He wasn't crippled yet! He didn't need to be carried or have someone else change his trousers.

Song Shuning hadn't realized this was a matter of male pride. She frowned. "You have needles in you; you cannot move."

"Then remove them. I can endure a moment of pain." Hearing such an disobedient patient, her professional instincts flared. She was about to scold him when she remembered where she was. She quickly relented, "Fine, have it your way."

She removed the needles, turned, and walked toward the door. "Call me when you're done."

As soon as the needles were removed, Shen Qiyuan—who had been numb—was suddenly struck by a splitting headache. He braced himself to stand and walk toward the screen, but after only two steps, he stumbled and fell. Hearing the noise, Song Shuning rushed back in to see Mo Feng trying to help, only for Shen Qiyuan to aggressively snap at him to stay away.

Mo Feng stood there, caught between advancing and retreating, while the others dared not move an inch.

Song Shuning pressed a hand to her forehead, walked over, and helped Shen Qiyuan up. He fixed his bloodshot eyes on her, cold and stubborn. "I can do this myself!"

"You cannot. I am the doctor, and I say you cannot," she said firmly, supporting him toward the screen without letting go.

Shen Qiyuan roared, "Mo Feng, drag her out!"

"Do you want your master to suffer even longer?" Song Shuning shouted back.

Mo Feng froze. It was the first time he had ever seen a doctor dare to defy his master's orders!

Song Shuning turned to Shen Qiyuan. "Right now, we are not a man and a woman; we are a patient and a doctor. Shall I help you change?"

Shen Qiyuan had never been defied by a woman—or anyone, for that matter—like this before. He glared at her fiercely, but Song Shuning’s stubborn streak was up, and she stood her ground, supporting him firmly. As the burning sensation in his body grew, Shen Qiyuan finally relented. "Let Mo Feng come in to serve me."

Song Shuning breathed a sigh of relief; it really would have been awkward for her to help a man change his trousers.

Mo Feng rushed in, and Song Shuning released Shen Qiyuan, exiting from behind the screen. Mo Feng hurriedly stepped in to assist.

A moment later, Shen Qiyuan, now dressed, was helped out by Mo Feng and laid on a chaise longue on the other side of the pool. Song Shuning stepped forward to check his pulse. Feeling the scorching heat radiating from his skin, she was shocked. This man had endured this agony for ten years!

With this kind of willpower, it was no wonder he would eventually become the Emperor. Most people would have probably committed suicide long ago.