Mo Yinhe had already urgently transferred two top infectious disease experts from Atlantis.
It is said that ergency treatnts primarily rely on Western dicine, while the advantage of Chinese dicine lies in chronic diseases. Mo Yinhe feared that Si Mingjing wouldn’t have the upper hand in this aspect and might delay Ye Jingzhe’s condition, so he invited two top experts to treat him. More importantly, he was afraid she would also get infected, so he wanted her to leave everything to the two specialists.
Si Mingjing disagreed with Mo Yinhe’s views. "The effectiveness of Chinese dicine in treating acute conditions is by no ans inferior to its effectiveness in treating chronic ones," she said. "The true strength of Chinese dicine lies not in chronic illnesses, but in acute ergencies. The approach of Chinese dicine aligns well with the characteristics of critical ergency treatnt—treatnt isn’t necessarily about expelling pathogens, but about balancing the relationships between exterior and interior, qi and blood, yin and yang, organs and ridians, achieving a natural harmony and self-healing. Therefore, recovery may occur without needing to fight the illness directly or induce sweating."
Mo Yinhe didn’t understand; he was not familiar with dical science. However, a nurse told him that Mingjing hadn’t slept for a day and a night, and he felt his woman needed rest.
"Don’t worry," he said, "I will stay here to take care of Ye Jingzhe. You go and rest. Once you’re fully rested and have a clearer mind, I believe you can co up with a better treatnt plan."
Si Mingjing took his advice. She went to rest, leaving the child in the care of Mo Yinhe and the two top infectious disease experts.
Si Mingjing slept for five hours. Upon waking, she pored over many dical texts, hoping to develop a treatnt plan.
In the bedroom’s small fish tank lived Little Xiangru.
Seeing Si Mingjing studying books, the Little Liyu version of Little Xiangru quickly fetched many ancient dical texts from her Spatial Museum. She threw them out from her space, and they flew onto the desk; one nearly hit Si Mingjing’s head.
Si Mingjing picked up the ancient texts and glanced back at Little Xiangru swimming around in the bathtub.
"Thank you, sweetheart."
"Mommy! Mommy! Do you need any more books? Little Xiangru has lots of books here! So many people are going to the Dragon King Temple now to pray they don’t catch this infectious disease. Go, Mommy! You’re the best! If Mommy cures the disease, Little Xiangru will receive tons and tons of rit! I want to be Mommy’s little flatterer and tell everyone how amazing you are!"
Si Mingjing didn’t hear the little flatterer’s voice. She picked up the ancient texts and carefully reviewed them one by one, checking if there had been any similar cases in the past.
After reviewing for an entire day, although she didn’t find an exact match, she found several similar cases—major infectious diseases throughout history that had killed thousands, such as cholera, plague, influenza, dengue fever, avian flu, SARS, and COVID-19.
She ticulously studied past epidemics and ca up with a formula. Will it work?
Si Mingjing prepared the dicine, decocted it, and carried it to the quarantine building.
Mo Yinhe sat by the sickbed, watching over Ye Jingzhe, holding a docunt in his hand. But he was unable to concentrate because Ye Jingzhe was on a respirator, looking terribly ill and deeply comatose. For reasons unknown, this child always managed to tug at his heartstrings, causing him great distress. Mo Yinhe didn’t even realize he was holding the docunt upside down.
Just then, Si Mingjing ca in with a bowl of Chinese dicine that had a strong aroma. Mo Yinhe imdiately put the docunt aside and stood up to et her. "What is this?"
"I’ve researched so ancient dical texts and developed a new prescription," Si Mingjing replied. "I don’t know if it will work. How is the child?"
The two top infectious disease experts hadn’t been able to reduce Ye Jingzhe’s fever. In fact, his condition had worsened. Mo Yinhe once again placed his hopes on his beloved.
"The situation is not looking good," he said.
The two top experts were in the adjacent room, hunched over a microscope. They were studying the virus, analyzing its DNA sequence in an attempt to find a breakthrough, but so far, they had t with no success.
Si Mingjing couldn’t wait. "Let’s try it," she said. "We need to find a way to administer the dicine."
However, Ye Jingzhe was in a toxic coma and couldn’t be roused, making it difficult to feed him.
Si Mingjing handed the white porcelain bowl to Mo Yinhe. She sat at the head of the bed and lifted Ye Jingzhe. Supporting the child’s emaciated chin with two fingers, she gently tried to open his mouth. Then she said to Mo Yinhe, "You hold him. You feed him."
Both were dressed in protective suits, making movents quite cumberso.
Mo Yinhe attempted to administer the dicine. However, as soon as it reached Ye Jingzhe’s mouth, it trickled out from the corner. The child was comatose and couldn’t swallow. After a few attempts, not only had no dicine gone in, but the yellow herbal dicine had also dripped all over Ye Jingzhe’s neck.
Mo Yinhe couldn’t bear to waste the bowl of dicine. He placed it on a nearby table, took the child from Si Mingjing’s arms, and said, "Feeding him like this isn’t working. Can you think of any other way to administer the dicine?"
Professional matters should be left to professionals.
Si Mingjing realized this too. "Perhaps we could use a nasogastric tube for the herbal dicine," she suggested.
Just hearing her suggestion made Mo Yinhe’s heart ache, his brow furrowing tightly. "Is there no other way? Can’t we use an intravenous drip, like in Western dicine?"
Mo Yinhe tried to rouse the child. He was afraid Mingjing genuinely intended to proceed with nasogastric feeding for the herbal dicine—a sight he couldn’t bear, tough-hearted as he was.
Unfortunately, no matter how much Mo Yinhe prodded or called out, Ye Jingzhe seed not to hear. The little one’s eyebrows were tightly knitted into a frown, and he looked pained even in his coma, lting Mo Yinhe’s heart further still.
"I’ll try," Si Mingjing said. She didn’t want to resort to nasogastric feeding either. She took out a Silver Needle and began administering acupuncture to Ye Jingzhe, attempting to awaken him.
She hadn’t held out much hope, but to their surprise, two minutes later, the child’s eyelids twitched.
Mo Yinhe began calling out to the child again, "Jingzhe, don’t sleep. Good boy, get up and take your dicine."
"Daddy..." Ye Jingzhe mumbled hazily, uttering the word.
Mo Yinhe’s heart skipped a beat.
Ye Jingzhe was dreaming. He dreamt he was gravely ill, with his parents by his side, caring for him. His gaze was unfocused; he couldn’t tell if it was a dream or reality. However, he could feel a strong man holding him. Dazedly, Ye Jingzhe began to cry out, "Daddy, I feel so bad..."
Si Mingjing blew on the dicine until it was lukewarm and brought it to Ye Jingzhe’s lips, gently coaxing, "Jingzhe, be good. Take your dicine, and you won’t feel so bad anymore."
"This must be my son!" Mo Yinhe exclaid suddenly.
Si Mingjing turned her head to glance at Mo Yinhe.
"He called Daddy!"
Si Mingjing said, "The child is still confused."
"He must be my son! I want to do a DNA test with him!"
Si Mingjing ignored him, concentrating on administering the dicine. After a few spoonfuls, she said, "Let the child take the dicine first. Hold him steadier; it’s spilling out again."
Ye Jingzhe hadn’t fully awakened, so administering the dicine was still very difficult. Fortunately, however, once the dicine was in his mouth, he knew to swallow.
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