“It’s just a minor injury, not as serious as you’re making it out to be. Honestly, you should be more careful. At least the wound only reopened—what if you had fallen somewhere else… Alright, I’ve redressed it. Let’s go, we should head inside now.”
Wan Qing was puzzled by the man beside her, his face full of worry and tension. This man had been so nonchalant about far worse injuries before—what was different now? Despite his concern, she calmly met his gaze, finished bandaging his wound, and helped him up.
“I… I’m fine, but when I fell just now, my leg hurt a bit. Qing’er, I…”
Though Leng Mingye felt utterly defeated by Wan Qing’s reaction, he secretly rejoiced that she was still supporting him. As she guided him forward by the arm, he had hoped to get closer to her, perhaps even steal a kiss. But seeing her slightly disheveled yet increasingly alluring lips, he found himself unable to resist.
His mind involuntarily drifted back to their wedding night, and at the thought, a surge of heat rose within him. Watching her simply holding his arm, he followed her lead and stood up, exhaling deeply as if relieved. Then, with a pitiful expression, he looked at her.
“Your leg is hurt too? Let me see. Hmm, there’s nothing wrong. Leng Mingye, are you enjoying messing with me?”
Hearing this, Wan Qing bent down and rolled up his pant leg, finding only a minor scrape—not even a tear in the fabric. Yet he was acting as if he were on death’s door. Unable to tolerate his childishness any longer, she stood up and let go of him, her voice cool and mocking.
“Me? Qing’er, I’m not messing with you! My leg really hurts. It might look like just a scrape, but the pain runs deep—it’s in the bones and tendons, I…”
Knowing full well how skilled she was in medicine, Leng Mingye felt a pang of guilt but pressed on, feigning agony. As he took a step forward, he suddenly lurched toward the ground.
“Be careful! How did this happen? I just checked—you were fine. You…”
Seeing him nearly collapse, Wan Qing was initially skeptical—given his usual agility—but his unsteady steps and the cold sweat on his forehead made her hesitate. Despite his recent odd behavior, the sight of his clenched fists and pale face stirred concern, and she quickly reached out to steady him.
“I… I don’t know. One moment I was fine, the next… Could it be from years ago, during the war? Maybe there was another poison besides the one I was given?”
Leng Mingye had feared she’d see through his act, but her worry eased his mind. He continued his performance, brows furrowed in feigned pain.
“Wait—it might be a gu poison! Qing’er, my leg has no strength at all. Every movement sends a sharp pain through my bones. Do you think I…”
Though Wan Qing eyed him skeptically, he maintained his act, pretending to have just realized the cause. Seeing her lips pressed tight and her expression torn between annoyance and concern, he pressed further.
“Even if it is gu poison, I can handle it. Relax—let’s get you back to the inn first.”
With that, Wan Qing half-carried, half-supported him as they moved forward.
“What’s going on…?”
At the inn, their group had booked the entire second floor. Just as they were about to enter their rooms, Hong Lian, Qing Feng, and the others spotted Wan Qing helping a limping Leng Mingye down the hallway. Seeing his pained expression—each step seeming to take immense effort—they turned to Wan Qing in confusion.
“He’s been poisoned by gu. Let’s sit him down first. Uncle, Mother—do either of you know how to treat gu poison?”
Facing their bewildered looks, Wan Qing explained as she helped Leng Mingye inside. Once seated, she turned to her mother, uncle, and father-in-law.
“Gu poison? Mingye has gu poison? This…”
Feng Liusu, her mother, stared at him in shock, clearly struggling to believe it.
“It is gu poison. If you don’t have an antidote, I’ll have to prepare one myself. The required insects are rare, so I’ll need to find them personally.”
Seeing her uncle and mother exchange doubtful glances but shake their heads, Wan Qing turned to leave.
“Qing’er, wait—”
As she strode out, Leng Mingye called after her, while Feng Moli and his sister stepped forward to check his pulse but remained silent. The thought of her going alone unsettled him.
“I truly don’t know much about gu poison. But Mingye, you should rest. Sister, let me take you back to your room.”
Though Feng Moli suspected Leng Mingye’s act, he couldn’t bring himself to expose him in front of his sister, who looked genuinely worried. After escorting her to her room—noting her exhaustion despite her strength—he returned to Leng Mingye.
“So, you’ve really been poisoned by gu? I may not know much about it, but I can tell when someone’s faking. Cold Young Master, are you a child?”
Finding Leng Mingye scolding his subordinates upon his arrival, Feng Moli crossed his arms, unimpressed.
“What’s wrong with me? Qing’er said I’m poisoned—why would she lie?”
Realizing Feng Moli wouldn’t buy his act, Leng Mingye dropped the pretense and met his gaze evenly.
“Fine, keep pretending. But let me remind you—treating gu poison requires extracting the gu insect, a lengthy process. Symptoms don’t appear immediately after infection. Yet here you are, writhing in ‘agony.’ By the time the extraction is done, it’d be too late. So, I suspect Qing’er is out there right now, hunting for the three poisonous creatures needed for the antidote: the seven-step snake, the red centipede from steep cliffs, and the green-eyed toad—a tree-dwelling predator of young emerald pythons. The environment here suits all three. But if she’s alone… and something happens to her… you’ll regret this.”
Seeing Leng Mingye still clinging to his act, Feng Moli sighed in exasperation. With a final warning, he turned and left.
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