After speaking, the two looked at each other and burst into laughter.
At this mont, several imperial physicians who had been assisting Yue Mingxuan walked out.
The leading physician glanced at Yue Mingxuan and spoke with dissatisfaction in his tone.
"Prince Qing, this illness forbids excessive joy or sorrow. Your Highness must exercise restraint."
Yue Mingxuan stuck out his tongue playfully. Because he had found a way to suppress Rong Qinglei’s condition, he had beco a little too pleased with himself.
He handed the prescription to the imperial physician and said, "This is the formula I worked out over the past few days. Please take a look and see if there’s anything that needs adjustnt."
The imperial physician took the prescription with a face full of disdain. To him, this Prince Yue had originally been an unknown nobody.
Relying only on sharp words, he had stepped all over these veteran doctors.
He clearly lacked true experience, yet his ideas were frightening.
The so-called heart opening surgery he proposed was, in their eyes, nothing short of murder.
The imperial physician casually glanced at the prescription and his expression slowly changed, from contempt, to seriousness, and then to astonished delight.
Every single herb was used with perfect precision.
Adding even a little more would be excessive, and removing even a little would be insufficient.
The formula had also been adjusted according to the actual condition.
Anyone capable of writing such a prescription worth to be called the nation number one imperial physician.
After carefully examining the prescription in his hands, the imperial physician still could not believe that it had been written by Yue Mingxuan. Yet, there was no denying that Yue Mingxuan had presented it himself. Though doubt still lingered in his mind, there was already a hint of respect in his words. "Prince Yue, is this prescription truly your work?"
Yue Mingxuan nodded. This was the prescription he had painstakingly compiled over three days.
Seeing his nod, the imperial physician hurriedly took the prescription and ran into the building.
Monts later, Pan Lutong of the Imperial dical Court erged briskly.
Pan Lutong was in his sixties and he’s a disciple of Silver Needle Sect. He’s also one of the few top-tier dical experts in Beirong.
He rarely showed excitent, yet now his face was flushed with emotion and he was wearing only one shoe. He strode quickly to Yue Mingxuan and asked, "I see a strong Silver Needle Sect style in your formulation. Are you a disciple of Silver Needle Sect?"
Even if he were from Silver Needle Sect, having such skill at his age would make him an extraordinary prodigy.
Yue Mingxuan had heard Pan Lutong’s na ntioned more than once by the physicians at the dical hall. Facing him in person, he naturally felt a greater sense of respect. "Mingxuan does have so connection to Silver Needle Sect and not a disciple of any sect."
Hearing his words, Pan Lutong still pressed insistently, "Then may I boldly ask, Prince Yue, where did you study under?"
Yue Mingxuan shook his head. "I have no formal teacher."
He could hardly tell him that he had spent five years in dical school.
Pan Lutong did not believe his words. He assud that Yue Mingxuan simply did not wish to disclose his master, which is a common occurrence in the dical world, so he was not surprised.
He handed the prescription to a nearby attendant and said, "If Prince Yue can compose a prescription of this caliber, your master must surely be an expert of the highest order in dicine."
Yue Mingxuan gave two nervous laughs, unsure of how to respond. When telling the truth earns no belief, silence is the safest option.
Pan Lutong did not dwell excessively on Yue Mingxuan’s master. Instead, he cupped his hands slightly and said, "To produce such a prescription, I am very eager to see the heart surgery you ntioned, Prince Yue."
The world was vast, and all manners of wonders existed.
If Yue Mingxuan’s dical skills were so exceptional, then this so called heart surgery could hardly be an idle claim.
Facing Pan Lutong’s earnest anticipation, Yue Mingxuan had no choice but to reply honestly: "To be frank, even if Prince Qing’s body is fully restored with dicine, I still cannot perform the heart surgery."
No matter how skilled she was, without surgical instrunts, she was powerless.
Pan Lutong pondered for a mont. "In a few days, the young master of the Sword Forge Villa will arrive in Beirong. Perhaps Prince Yue could consult him and give it a try."
Yue Mingxuan sighed inwardly.
Sigh, he did want to see him, but the key problem was that he had no way to et him.
Seeing the gloom on Yue Mingxuan’s face, Pan Lutong did not speak further.
He gave a half bow and withdrew.
The vast courtyard was left with only Yue Mingxuan and Rong Qinglei.
Rong Qinglei had long noticed the displeasure on Yue Mingxuan’s face and asked aloud, "Mingxuan, is sothing troubling you?"
Yue Mingxuan shook his head.
Rong Qinglei now cared less about solving his problems and more about resting and recovering: "If you recuperate early, I won’t be worried anymore."
Hearing this, a bitter smile tugged at the corners of Rong Qinglei’s lips. In his current half dead state, he had already beco a thorn in many people’s eyes.
If he truly recovered, it might trigger yet another bloody upheaval in the harem.
Over the past few days, the Pixiu Hall’s shadow guards had dealt with a dozen waves of assassins and it was unclear whether Yue Mingxuan had been affected in the process.
"Mingxuan, have you been well these past few days?"
Yue Mingxuan replied sowhat oddly, "Quite well, actually. I spent three quiet days in the library."
He did not want to tell Rong Qinglei about her one day visit to the Bieli Palace, as even if he knew, it would only add to his worries.
Seeing that Yue Mingxuan’s expression did not seem feigned, Rong Qinglei felt a wave of relief.
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