Chapter 196: How Is This Any Different From Murder

After Hu Huanhuan left, Duan Rong performed the calming acupuncture on Shen Ping once more. Seeing Shen Ping fall into a deep sleep, Duan Rong then went into the courtyard to practice Standing Stake.

By evening, Duan Rong saw that Shen Ping's body temperature was normal, and his breathing had gradually become stronger as well.

"It seems the illness has not relapsed; there is no need to take the remaining dose of medicine," Duan Rong said to himself after checking the pulse and tucking Shen Ping's hand back under the blanket.

The three doses of medicine he had grabbed were, after all, potent medicine; since the condition had already stabilized, it was better to take less.

Rising early the next morning, Duan Rong performed a round of acupuncture on Shen Ping to dispel wind and dissipate Qi.

By the morning, Shen Ping actually opened his eyes. He stared at Duan Rong for quite a while, then asked in a weak, hoarse voice, "Who are you?"

Duan Rong said, "I am a disciple of Xiao Zongting."

Upon hearing the name Xiao Zongting, Shen Ping's eyelids twitched. He immediately struggled to sit up, but his body was clearly too weak to muster any strength.

Duan Rong sighed inwardly; this man was truly strong-willed, falling so ill yet trying to get up the moment he woke.

Duan Rong walked over, propped two pillows against the head of the bed, and pulled Shen Ping's body to let him lean against them. Shen Ping was covered in wounds, and this movement clearly tore at them, making him wince in pain.

Leaning halfway against the headboard, Shen Ping scanned the room with his eyes and asked, "Where is this?"

Duan Rong said, "This is a courtyard within the Yuanshun Escort Agency."

Seeing that Shen Ping's eyes still held a hint of worry, Duan Rong said, "Rest assured. The case of Xu Ruhu and Xie Lei has already been closed; otherwise, it would have been impossible to release you from Death Row."

Shen Ping's eyes flickered; he had not expected this youth to be able to see through his thoughts at a glance.

Shen Ping then became somewhat guarded. He was too weak, and his mental energy was sluggish; when walking the jianghu, one must not wear one's emotions on one's face.

Shen Ping's lips trembled, so Duan Rong poured him a bowl of clear water. Shen Ping drank it down, feeling his parched throat moisten a little.

Just then, at the courtyard gate of Liu Lu, a knock-knock-knock sound of someone rapping on the door rang out.

As soon as Duan Rong heard the rapping, he knew it was Hu Huanhuan.

These past few days, the ones who frequented Liu Lu were Hu Huanhuan and Xiao Zongting, though the two had distinctly different styles of knocking.

Duan Rong did not need to use Divine Sense Projection; just by listening to the rapping, he knew who had arrived.

Duan Rong walked quickly to open the courtyard gate. Hu Huanhuan walked in with a smile, and the two chatted idly as they walked into the room.

Hu Huanhuan carried a food box and stepped into the Inner Room. Shen Ping, sitting at the head of the bed, turned his head, and the two immediately locked eyes.

Shen Ping's lips quivered, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back down.

Hu Huanhuan looked at Shen Ping for a moment, her expression shifting with changing emotions. Suddenly, she placed the food box on the cabinet beside the door and turned to leave without looking back.

From Hu Huanhuan's back, Duan Rong could see her resolve.

This was a matter between the two of them, so Duan Rong found it inconvenient to say anything and could only let Hu Huanhuan leave.

Duan Rong opened the food box Hu Huanhuan had left behind. The top layer contained a dish of lion's head meatballs and a dish of braised fish, along with two griddle cakes.

These were clearly for him, so Duan Rong took them out.

He opened the bottom layer of the food box and found a lidded clay pot at the bottom. When Duan Rong touched the pot, it was still somewhat hot to the touch.

Duan Rong brought the clay pot out and placed it on the small table beside the bed. He lifted the lid, and steam rose instantly, the aroma wafting everywhere.

Duan Rong saw Shen Ping clearly swallow his saliva.

On the golden chicken soup floated slices of ginseng; just looking at the color, how could it not be tempting?

Duan Rong took a spoon, placed it in the clay pot, looked at Shen Ping, and asked, "Can you eat by yourself?"

"I can." Shen Ping stubbornly spat out the word and tried to move his body, but with wounds all over, the slightest movement made him wince and grimace.

"Enough. I'll feed you."

"No need!"

"You are a patient! Don't push yourself!" Duan Rong said coldly, picking up the spoon, scooping a spoonful of soup, and holding it to Shen Ping's lips.

Shen Ping's expression was somewhat ugly; he felt it was truly shameful to have to be fed a spoonful of soup, but he still brought his mouth to the edge of the spoon.

Duan Rong tilted the spoon slightly, and with a slurp, Shen Ping took a large spoonful of chicken soup into his mouth and down his throat.

"Mmm..." Shen Ping couldn't help but moan, clearly finding it very satisfying.

Duan Rong fed almost the entire clay pot of chicken soup to Shen Ping, one spoonful at a time. At first, Shen Ping was a bit bashful, but later he ate openly. Once the soup was mostly gone, Duan Rong used chopsticks to feed him the tenderly cooked chicken meat as well.

After Shen Ping was full and satisfied, Duan Rong went to the main room to eat his lion's head meatballs and braised fish with the griddle cakes.

Duan Rong had only eaten a few bites when he suddenly heard Shen Ping call out from inside, "Who wrote this prescription?"

The voice was quite full of vigor.

Duan Rong sighed inwardly: So he drank the chicken soup? He has strength now, does he?

He walked in with the griddle cake in his hand and saw that Shen Ping had somehow gotten hold of the prescription written by Gu Suxiu from the table by the bed.

Seeing Duan Rong enter, Shen Ping looked up at him and said angrily, "Is this the prescription I've been taking? Is this damn thing a prescription for curing illness? Is it for nourishing the spirit and stabilizing a pregnancy?"

It was no wonder Shen Ping was furious; for him, this prescription was a matter of life and death.

"You only took one dose of that prescription," Duan Rong said calmly, taking a bite of the griddle cake in his hand.

Shen Ping's eyes flickered, as if remembering something, and he asked, "Then what medicine did I take the previous two nights?"

Although Shen Ping had been unconscious, when he occasionally woke, he could feel the fierce medicinal power within his body; it was definitely not this kind of mild, nourishing, mediocre prescription.

Duan Rong took a prescription from his sleeve, handed it to Shen Ping, and said, "You took this dose of medicine for the previous two nights."

Shen Ping took it and asked, "Who wrote this prescription?"

"Me," Duan Rong answered briefly.

Shen Ping glanced at Duan Rong. In his view, the Medical Path had a great deal to do with experience, and Duan Rong clearly looked no older than seventeen or eighteen.

Shen Ping looked down at the prescription in his hand, and his expression changed abruptly, looking even worse than when he had seen the one written by Gu Suxiu.

At this moment, Duan Rong even saw a flash of fear in Shen Ping's eyes...

Shen Ping's lips trembled as he looked at Duan Rong and said, "Do we have a grudge?"

"No!"

"Then why do you seek to harm me! How is such tiger-wolf medicine any different from murder?" Shen Ping's gaze shot toward Duan Rong like a nail.

Duan Rong sighed; he had not expected Shen Ping to also view this prescription in such a way.

"To treat a severe illness, one needs potent medicine; is this not common sense?" Duan Rong retorted: "Did I harm you? Are you dead now, or crippled?"

Shen Ping's eyelids twitched.

Duan Rong continued: "Elder Shen, you were in a deep coma at the time. But I felt your pulse; although it was as weak as a precarious egg, it was faintly persistent. Clearly, your will was tenacious, and you possessed a strong desire to survive. This is the first point."

"Although your whole body was injured at the time, and the Death Row was damp, and you had been running a fever for many days, the vitality of your internal organs seemed withered, which could be called scorched both inside and out. But the foundation of your body was very good. This tiger-wolf medicine could just sweep away the deep-seated ailment and stimulate the hidden, original vitality. This is the second point."

"After you drank the decoction, I supplemented it with the art of acupuncture to guide the medicinal properties and dispel wind and disperse Qi. The key to this prescription lies in the strength of your body's origin, which could withstand the impact of the first wave of fierce medicinal power, leaving me sufficient time to perform acupuncture and disperse the medicine. This is the third point."

"With these three points, this prescription can be used!"

(End of chapter)