allonlinenovel Chapter 544
Chapter 544
Wearing a mask soaked in medicinal wine, Ye Jiuchen was feeding medicine to the children spoonful by spoonful. When an old man on the verge of death coughed up black blood after taking the medicine, cries and cheers suddenly erupted from the crowd, and the sound of kowtows like raindrops startled the swallows on the eaves.
A month later, when the last patient's purple spots had faded, the king of the neighboring country personally presented a golden plaque inscribed with "Divine Healer and Heroic Couple." Dongfang Wan'er, however, smiled softly at the empty medicine chest; the twelve jade bottles now gleamed with a warm luster, as if awaiting the next promise of healing. Ye Jiuchen brushed the fallen petals from her shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the newly appeared fine lines at the corners of her eyes. Suddenly, he took out a white jade hairpin from his sleeve—the head of the hairpin was carved with two twin ginkgo trees, made from the century-old ginkgo wood given to him by the child he had healed.
As the late spring wind swept across the cobblestone path once more, the two, carrying their medicine chests, embarked on a new journey. The "Evil-Expelling Powder" in the chests had become a staple; the purple spots on Ye Jiuchen's arm had long since faded, leaving only light-colored ginkgo-shaped scars. They walked through valleys filled with irises, crossed grasslands fragrant with milk, and at each stop, they raised white banners bearing the words "Hanging the Medicine Pot," watching the smoke from the medicine pots dance with the cooking smoke from the people's chimneys. One star-studded night, Dongfang Wan'er suddenly pointed to a shooting star streaking across the sky and said to Ye Jiuchen, who was grinding medicinal herbs, "Look, isn't that the Immortal Physician guiding us to our next destination?" He looked up at the dazzling Milky Way, his pestle pausing before falling into the bronze mortar engraved with the words "Saving the World," producing a clear, resonant sound.
Chapter Nine: The Mystery of the Golden Palace
The fine spring rain, like silk threads, clung to the bluestone path. As Ye Jiuchen placed the last medicinal herb into his maple wood medicine chest, Dongfang Wan'er was wiping her gilded medical needles with a plain handkerchief; the needle tips gleamed coldly in the candlelight. Suddenly, the copper bells on the eaves rang out, and the sound of horses' hooves broke through the rain. A Jinyiwei guard, soaked to the bone, knelt on one knee and presented a vermilion lacquered box, the gold paint on the imperial seal still damp.
“It’s a secret letter from my brother.” Dongfang Wan’er’s fingertips traced the dark patterns on the edge of the box, her jade nails drawing a cold arc in the moonlight. When Ye Jiuchen opened the bright yellow letter, the words “Strange illness, no solution, summoned here” on the Xuan paper were written with such force that they penetrated the back of the paper, the last character “疾” trailing out like a sword piercing the air. Thunder roared outside the window, and the candlelight suddenly burst into a three-inch blue flame, casting the overlapping shadows of the two on the mottled brick wall, like two cranes overlooking an abyss.
Three days later in the capital, the morning mist had not yet dissipated. On the bluestone slabs of Zhuque Avenue, a medicine chest rattled softly. Dongfang Wan'er gazed at the Imperial Guards standing with halberds beneath the vermilion palace walls, the silver needles in her hidden pocket trembling slightly—she caught a faint scent of bitter almonds in the air. From the gilded beast-head incense burner in the Golden Palace, the aroma of ambergris mingled with the medicinal scent, yet it could not mask the heavy oppression within the hall. The Emperor reclined on the nine-dragon couch, his once handsome features now shrouded in a bluish-gray hue, his fingertips tinged with an unusual purplish-blue, and his pulse weak and feeble.
"Please, Your Majesty, extend your tongue." Ye Jiuchen untied the gilded medicine pouch, the bronze scale gleaming warmly in his palm. As the emperor opened his mouth, Dongfang Wan'er's pupils constricted—three pale blue spots, like plum blossoms, appeared at the base of his tongue, the very symptoms of the "Half-Step Fall" poison from the Southern Frontier. She exchanged a glance with Ye Jiuchen, whose fingertips had already gripped three silver needles, which he swiftly inserted into the emperor's Baihui, Tanzhong, and Qihai acupoints. A faint white vapor rose from the ends of the silver needles, a sign that he was using his own internal energy to expel the poison.
At midnight, in front of the sandalwood cabinet in the Imperial Medical Academy, Dongfang Wan'er meticulously examined the fragments of the *Qianjin Fang* (Prescriptions Worth a Thousand Pieces of Gold) with a magnifying glass, candle wax solidifying into amber on the yellow silk. Suddenly, a soft clanging of a tile came from outside the window. She quickly scattered a modified version of "anti-poison powder" into the shadows, and with a muffled groan, a dark figure crashed into the medicine shelf and fled through the window. Ye Jiuchen chased after him to the corner of the corridor, only to find half a piece of dark brocade embroidered with lotus blossoms on the ground—the very color of the head of the Imperial Pharmacy's robes.
Seven days later, at the third quarter of the hour of You (5:45 PM), wisps of white steam rose from the bronze medicine cauldron before the emperor's bed. Dongfang Wan'er crushed the last ingredient—the molted worm shell of the Western Regions Ice Silkworm—and the broth in the cauldron suddenly turned a deep turquoise. "Your Majesty, please take it." Ye Jiuchen stirred the cooling broth with a jade spoon, his gaze sweeping sharply over the crowd below. The moment the broth entered his mouth, an almost inaudible rustling sound of fabric came from behind the pillar on the east side. He had already prepared a "mind-awakening powder" in his sleeve, which was released with the force of the movement. A gray-robed eunuch suddenly covered his mouth and nose, revealing half a poisoned needle at his fingertips.
"It really is you, Eunuch Wang." Dongfang Wan'er brushed aside the stray hairs on the back of the emperor's neck, revealing a pale blue mark of Gu poison. "Back then, you secretly practiced witchcraft in the Imperial Hospital and were banished from the capital by the late emperor. Now you've actually infiltrated the palace to attempt to assassinate the emperor." The eunuch's face twisted, and he suddenly bit open the poison sac hidden between his teeth. As black blood gushed from his seven orifices, his eyes still held a resentful smile.
As the moon rose above the willow branches, the emperor was already able to sit upright on his couch. Ye Jiuchen looked at the piles of gold and silver rewards on the table and smiled at Dongfang Wan'er. She put the medical needles into the sandalwood box, and with a soft clang of the copper clasp, the sound of the watchman's clapper came from outside the window: "The weather is dry, be careful with fire—" The two carried their medicine boxes through the alley, the palace lanterns casting long shadows, like two delicate blades of grass, always growing towards the moonlight in the mire of this deep palace.
As the fifth watch bell tolled, the city gates slowly opened. Dongfang Wan'er pulled out a tattered page of the *Poison Classic* from her bosom; the secret letter she had taken from Eunuch Wang the previous night was tucked inside, the words "Return to the Ruins" on it dripping with vermilion ink. Ye Jiuchen gazed at the distant, faintly visible mountains, his fingertips lightly tracing the words "Suspended Pot" on his medicine chest—they knew that this trip to the capital was merely another stop on a long journey, and the real mystery might have only just begun.