The Buddha beads were warm and smooth, and Qi Qing quietly observed them, yet the image of the woman’s calm deanor when facing him earlier floated before his eyes.
Whether she was being overly clever or not, the composure and serenity she possessed were sothing that even Cui Min, who had already beco an Envoy back in the day, was unable to achieve.
Lu Tong was right, she was more useful than Cui Min.
It was a pity she was born a commoner, if only she were a daughter of the Qi Family...
But her last na was Lu.
Last na Lu...
The hand turning the Buddha beads paused abruptly as Qi Qing’s eyes snapped open, asking, "What was the na of the good wife who died earlier at Fengle Building?"
"Nad Lu Rou."
"Lu Rou, Lu Tong..."
Qi Qing’s expression changed slightly.
"Do you suspect she is from the Lu Family of Changwu County?" asked the steward, puzzled, "But the good wife’s family are the Lu Family people, whereas Lu Tong is from Su Nan."
Qi Qing frowned.
Lu Tong was indeed from Su Nan.
He had also doubted the origins of this woman, but after the test in the pharmacy earlier, she had dispelled his doubts, indeed appearing to be from Su Nan.
Moreover, initially, the people he had sent to Changwu County reported back that there were no other relatives in the Lu Family, only the distant relatives, Liu Kun’s family, who had either died or gone mad, and had long since left Shengjing.
Yet, being too perfect was in itself a form of eeriness. Compared to evidence, he trusted more in the intuition honed over his many years of life. That intuition had helped him avoid disasters over the years, allowing the Qi Family to still stand unthreatened in this precarious world.
"Send soone to Su Nan again."
"Ask at the Su Nan dical Practice if there’s a Female Doctor nad Lu Tong," he said.
...
Dusk encroached from all sides.
Inside the Cui residence, Cui Min sat on the ground in front of a bookshelf.
dical books and theories of dicine were strewn all over the place, amidst the chaos. There was Cui Min, sitting on the floor, absorbed in frantically flipping through the mountain of dical texts in front of him, his eyes bloodshot.
Ever since he had returned ho during the day, he had locked himself in the study, eating neither food nor drinking water, madly turning over dical books.
His wife and son had co several tis to persuade him, but he turned a deaf ear to them, continuing his relentless effort. Others said he had gone mad, but only Cui Min himself knew —
There was no ti left.
He was running out of ti.
The Grand Preceptor’s Mansion required him to make Qi Yutai regain consciousness before the festival, which was already very urgent, but Lu Tong was even more terrifying as she could replace him at any mont.
For a genius to replace a diocrity was always easy. Everything he had worked so hard for over many years was nothing in her eyes, a fact Cui Min couldn’t accept.
He searched frantically, mumbling, "I can do it, I can also create prescriptions..."
He was an Envoy, and he had been one for so many years. He had read through all the dical cases and records at the dical Officer Institute, and he had earned his place at the spring examination with his real talent. It was impossible that he couldn’t compare to a young female doctor with a commoner background.
He could definitely cure Qi Yutai, if only he had a little more ti...
Suddenly, a muffled commotion and screams ca from outside the door. Then, with a "bang," the door to the study was kicked open without rcy.
Cui Min abruptly turned his head.
The heavy wooden door crashed down under Cui Min’s horrified gaze.
A group of red-clad governnt officers sward in, the leader looking down at the disheveled and exhausted man on the ground, his tone as cold as ice.
"Hanlin dical Officer, Envoy Cui Min, soone has accused you of stealing subordinates’ prescriptions for your own use, of slander and libel against your colleagues—"
"No—"
Before the officer could finish, Cui Min leaped to his feet, interrupting him.
It was as if the thing he had long feared had finally happened. The lack of sleep and rest had driven him to the brink of collapse, and as his last thread of sanity snapped, he jumped up, pushed the officer in front of him aside, and tried to run out.
The next mont, a sharp pain shot through his back as he was kicked to the ground, unable to get up again.
The severe pain caused his previous frenzy to dissipate in an instant, and he suddenly regained much clarity.
The officers surged into the room, rapidly searching through the study. One by one, the dical books were knocked to the floor, and the vases he had ticulously collected were smashed to pieces.
A boot stepped on his face, pressing Cui Min’s face against the ground. In a daze, he watched as the room turned to chaos, and as he watched, he realized the days were blurring together. It was as if he had returned to that day more than ten years ago, the day Miao Liangfang got into trouble. People from Consort Yan Palace burst into the dical Officer Institute, pushing down Miao Liangfang, who was organizing dical records in the archives. In the rush and panic, it was unclear who stepped on Miao Liangfang’s leg, causing him to scream in pain, which seed to please the officers as they deliberately ground their heels on his calf, listening to his agonizing cries.
At that ti, Miao Liangfang was also held down in this way, his face pressed against the ground. As if sensing his gaze, he struggled to turn his head towards Cui Min, who was standing by the door, his eyes filled with disbelief.
The young Cui Min looked on coldly as his forr close friend was trampled on the ground, eyes blood-red, as helpless as fish on a cutting board.
Just like him at this mont.
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