Chapter 983: The Peasant Girl’s Splendid Manor
Cui Ping'an suddenly fell ill in front of the Old Madam Cui. Even after consulting renowned physicians, none could do anything, so the old madam believed her grandson had been possessed. If it weren’t for the intervention of Master Cui, she would have gone to a Taoist temple to ask a priest to perform a ritual to save him.
“You wait here. I, the County Princess, will prepare and go with you,” Mo Yan said, furrowing her brows at the anxious maid before turning back to her own courtyard.
She was fully aware of her limitations—nowhere near the skill level of the imperial physicians in the Imperial Medical physicians. If even they couldn’t diagnose the illness, she was even less capable.
It had taken considerable effort just to nurse Cui Ping'an’s health back previously, so now all she could do was pin her hopes on the spiritual spring water, hoping it could bring down his fever. While she could have refused outright, since they had once known each other, even if she couldn’t help, she should at least visit.
After retrieving the spring water, Mo Yan hesitated for a moment before leaving the space. She used a small knife to cut a piece of black lingzhi and placed it into a jade box.
Previously, she’d traded a palm-sized piece of black lingzhi with the black clouded leopard for ginseng, then used some to detoxify Xiao Ruiyuan and Chu Heng. She also used some to stimulate the potential of the furballs. Though the black lingzhi was large and more than half remained, each use diminished it. Unless it was a matter of life and death, she wouldn’t take it out.
Since she didn’t know the exact condition of Cui Ping’an or whether it was life-threatening, she took the lingzhi as a precaution. If needed, it could save a life; if not, she could simply return it to the space—it wouldn’t spoil. She had no qualms about it.
Without further delay, Mo Yan exited the space with the spring water and lingzhi, changed clothes, and got into the Cui family’s carriage under the maid’s anxious urging, quickly heading toward the capital. When they arrived at the Cui residence, the carriage entered directly through the main gate.
Lately, many physicians had been coming and going from the residence, so although the servants found it odd that their young lady’s carriage entered through the main gate, they assumed it was another physician invited by the masters and didn’t dwell on it.
After getting off at the second gate, the maid led Mo Yan straight to Cui Ping'an’s courtyard. At this moment, he lay semi-conscious on the bed—his face flushed red, his lips dark and peeling, and he kept murmuring in pain. No matter how much the old madam and Cui Qingrou called him, he never opened his eyes.
Seeing the once lively and cheerful youth in such a state pained Mo Yan. She didn’t bother with formal greetings and hurried to the window to take his pulse.
The old madam, who had been weeping beside the bed, was startled when an unfamiliar girl suddenly approached. She didn’t react at first, but just as she was about to speak, Cui Qingrou stopped her, saying, “Mother, this young lady is the County Princess Hejia. She’s the one who helped treat Ping’an’s condition before.”
Upon hearing this, the old madam didn’t dare interrupt. She looked at Mo Yan with hope and without a trace of condescension due to her youth.
The room fell silent. No one dared speak, fearing they’d disturb Mo Yan as she took Cui Ping'an’s pulse.
After half a quarter-hour, Mo Yan finally withdrew her hand. Under the expectant gazes of the old madam and Cui Qingrou, she said nothing. Instead, she leaned closer to Cui Ping’an’s ear and heard him repeatedly muttering two words: “Fangcao” and “cousin.”
She recalled teasing Cui Ping'an before, when he’d blushed and spoken about his beloved Fangcao. It made sense that he would murmur his lover’s name while ill. But “cousin”? What was that about?
His condition clearly stemmed from emotional distress. If the cause wasn’t identified, how could a cure be found?
But right now, lowering his body temperature was the priority. Mo Yan took out a porcelain bottle from her medicine box and handed it to Cui Qingrou. “Madam, this is a fever-reducing potion I prepared. Please give this to him.”
Without hesitation, Cui Qingrou accepted the bottle and sat by the bed. With the help of a maid, she propped her nephew up and carefully poured the spring water into his mouth, not spilling a drop.
Mo Yan deeply appreciated this level of trust.
Though it was just a small bottle of water, Cui Ping’an was unconscious and difficult to feed. Cui Qingrou, worried that spilling it would affect its efficacy, fed him slowly and carefully. Though she had doubts about the clear, tasteless liquid, her trust in Mo Yan kept her from asking anything.
By the time the bottle was emptied, a full quarter-hour had passed.
As expected of the spiritual spring water, its effects appeared quickly—Cui Ping'an’s breathing gradually steadied, and he stopped murmuring. His peaceful expression now resembled that of someone asleep.
The old madam and Cui Qingrou noticed the change in their grandson (nephew) and finally felt a bit relieved. Their respect for Mo Yan’s medical skills grew immensely.
The old madam, overwhelmed with gratitude, stepped forward to bow to Mo Yan, only to be stopped in time.
“Saving lives is a healer’s duty, Madam. There's no need for this. But this is a matter of the heart. If we can't identify the source of the illness in his heart, I fear he won’t recover fully,” Mo Yan said sincerely.
(End of Chapter)
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