Yuqiongyin

In a moment, Rong Yunqiu stood up suddenly, rummaged through the medicine box, and took out an ancient and exquisite wooden box. He took out three silver needles from it, pinched them between his fingertips and twisted them slightly, making them flash coldly in the sunlight:

"Saint, please believe me this time. The magic of Chinese medicine is not just relying on herbs. These silver needles are also a powerful tool for curing diseases and eliminating disasters. Your lung meridians are damaged and your qi and blood are disordered. I will use acupuncture to dredge your meridians, harmonize your qi and blood, stabilize your current frenzied symptoms, and then use the carefully prepared prescriptions. With a two-pronged approach, I will definitely be able to find a chance for you to survive."

As he spoke, Rong Yunqiu approached the bed, leaned over slightly, and held the silver needle in his hand above Feng Chenning's chest, but he hesitated to insert the needle because she was too weak. If the needle was inserted rashly and there was a slight deviation, the consequences would be disastrous.

Feng Chenning tilted her head and looked up at him, seeing the beads of sweat on his forehead due to his concern about his condition, and his hands that were trembling slightly but trying to keep steady as he held the silver needle, and a touch of warmth and emotion rose in her heart.

"Okay, then you start."

Rong Yunqiu took a deep breath, calmed himself, and said softly, "Saintess, there will be a slight soreness when the needles are applied. Try to relax your body and don't be nervous."

Feng Chenning nodded slightly, and Rong Yunqi held his breath and concentrated, and the silver needle dropped accurately, piercing the acupuncture points one by one.

Rong Yunqi's technique was very skillful. While twisting the needle, he paid close attention to her expression and kept muttering: "Qi and blood return to the meridians, and the meridians are unblocked..."

After a while, the three silver needles were inserted, and Feng Chenning felt the stuffiness in his chest slowly dissipate, the frequency of coughing actually decreased, and breathing heavily was not so difficult anymore.

Rong Yunqi let out a long sigh, his face showing relief: "Saint, are you feeling better now?"

Feng Chenning's eyes flashed with surprise, and he nodded slightly: "Indeed... I feel a little relieved. But..."

Before she could finish her words, Rong Yunqiu struck while the iron was hot: "Since it has been effective, it proves that there is still hope. From now on, you need to put aside all distractions and focus on recuperating. The affairs of the Holy Land will be taken care of by others, so please don't worry about it. I will go back now, and even if I have to stay up all night, I will prepare a new prescription for you and send it to you tomorrow morning."

Feng Shenning opened her lips slightly, wanting to say something but stopping herself, and finally let out a sigh: "Thank you for your trouble. I hope that I can survive this disaster as you said."

Rong Yunqiu put away the silver needle and bowed solemnly: "The Saint will surely be able to turn danger into safety. I will take my leave and start preparing immediately."

After saying this, he turned around hurriedly, full of anxiety and determination, and strode out of the door, his sleeves fluttering in anxiety and determination.

Feng Chenning slowly withdrew his gaze, raised his hand and gently touched his chest, where he still felt the soreness and swelling from the acupuncture.

She slowly lay down and looked toward the top of the bed tent, her thoughts drifting away involuntarily.

The signs of physical decline have been too obvious these days, and the frequency of coughing up blood has increased significantly.

The face in the mirror became increasingly thinner and paler, and the lips seemed covered with a layer of frost, lifeless.

How could she not know her own condition? As a saint of the holy land, she studied the ancient medical classics of her tribe after staying here, and her perception and prediction of diseases far exceeded that of ordinary people.

The hesitant looks from the doctors and the low sighs from the clan elders behind her back were like silent announcements, echoing in her ears: time is running out.

Even though the doctor swore solemnly today, the layer of despair in his heart was only cracked briefly, and the chill was still bone-chilling.

"I will eventually let him down..."

Feng Chenning murmured to herself, her voice so soft that it seemed like it could be blown away by a breeze, and a bitter smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Feng Shenning took a deep breath and silently chanted and prayed in her heart. Those were the prayers for the requiem passed down from generation to generation in the holy land, and she had recited them countless times in the past when praying for her people.

Now I use it to comfort myself, praying for God's protection and the disease to go away.

It seems that the gods will not protect her.

*

At night, everything is silent, and the thick, inky darkness covers the entire house tightly.

Feng Chenning was trapped in a state of half-sleep and half-wakefulness. He felt an itchy sensation in his throat and had no time to react before he could cough violently a few times.

The coughing sounded particularly harsh in the silent night, and each cough was accompanied by a sharp pain in her chest, causing her to instantly break out in a cold sweat. She curled up her body and subconsciously covered her mouth with her hands, trying to suppress the disturbing noise.

Mu Huan, the maid who was dozing off nearby, was instantly awakened. All her sleepiness disappeared, her face turned pale, and she almost knocked over the low table when she stood up in a panic.

The maid Mu Huan didn't bother to straighten the clothes that had slipped off her shoulders. She quickly ran to the bed, holding the warm water that had been prepared long ago. Her eyes were full of heartache and anxiety: "Saint, please drink some water and take a break."

Her voice was soft, with a hint of tears in it, and she handed the cup of water to Feng Chenning's mouth as she spoke.

Feng Chenning gasped for air, took the water cup tremblingly, and drank a few sips with his head tilted back.

The warm water slid across the dry and painful throat, slightly relieving the unbearable itchiness and alleviating the stuffy feeling in the chest.

She coughed a few times and recovered. She looked up at her maid Mu Huan. Seeing that her face was tired but her eyes were red because she was worried about her, she felt a little warm in her heart. She raised her hand and stroked the back of Mu Huan's hand, saying weakly, "Thank you for your hard work. Go and have a rest."

"Guarding the Saint is my duty." As he spoke, Mu Huan took a clean handkerchief from the side and gently wiped the water stains from the corners of Feng Chenning's mouth with delicate and gentle movements.

Feng Chenning sighed slightly and stopped forcing it.

She knew that her maid Mu Huan was loyal to her, so it was useless to persuade her. Besides, her body was in trouble frequently, so she would feel more at ease if someone was looking after her.

The two of them sat in silence, only the breeze outside the window brushed through the leaves, making a rustling sound. The sound was faint and lonely, like a sigh, gently caressing the silent night.

After a moment, Feng Chenning seemed to remember something and asked softly, "Is the doctor's medicine ready?"

Mu Huan looked embarrassed, hesitated for a moment, and whispered: "Not yet, the kitchen said that there are many medicinal materials and the decoction process is complicated, so it will take some time. If the Saint is uncomfortable, Mu Huan will go and urge her."

Feng Chenning waved her hand: "No need, just follow the rules and don't disturb them."

After she finished speaking, she leaned against the head of the bed and closed her eyes to rest.

The room returned to silence, with only Feng Chenning's occasional breathing sounds.

In the corner, the candlelight flickered, and the dim halo was constantly eroded by the darkness and was almost extinguished, as if Feng Chenning's fragile vitality at the moment was struggling to maintain the last ray of light under the ruthless devouring of the disease.

Mu Huan stood silently by the side, his eyes fixed on Feng Chenning's sick face, his hands unconsciously clenched in his sleeves.

Before this, Mu Huan had never thought that one day he would see the Saint looking so haggard.

In her impression, the saint has always been so dignified and noble, as if all the beautiful words in the world are not enough to describe her.

However, now, Mu Huan felt a sharp pain in his heart when he looked at all this, and an indescribable sadness surged in his heart.