The Consort’s emotions were certainly stirred, and she took a deep breath, “Very well, since you have full confidence, I will give you this chance!”
The medical enthusiast bowed once more before he said, “Then please, Your Highness, show me the way.”
The old nanny beside the Consort came over and led the medical enthusiast into Ye’s room.
Upon seeing Ye in bed, the medical enthusiast’s eyes lit up with excitement. As he had said himself, he specialized in treating difficult and plicated illnesses, not concerned with minor ailments. Now, seeing Ye lingering at death’s door, was like seeing hope itself.
“Please prepare two oil lamps for me,” said the medical enthusiast.
The oil lamps were quickly delivered, and the medical enthusiast sat down, instructed two people to help Ye sit up, and then placed his hands on the top of Ye’s head, pressing down on one acupoint after another. Occasionally, when he pressed a certain acupoint, there would be a reaction.
“Yes, yes, this is the right symptom,” the medical enthusiast’s eyes shone brightly, “This person, I will cure him today!”
The Consort’s chamber was bustling with activity, some went to the Imperial Medical Bureau for medicine, while others fetched buckets, boiled water, and prepared the medicine…
One day passed, then two days passed…
Every day, the medical enthusiast was in Ye’s room, and he would always emerge soaked in sweat. When resting, he would order a large variety of food, being very picky about what he ate—tripe, chicken hearts, duck intestines—but Ye’s condition did not seem to improve.
After some time, the Consort began to doubt whether the medical enthusiast had e just for the food and drink, but reminded that those of his profession with greater medical skill were often eccentric, she could only bear with it and let him continue.
Finally, on the seventh day, Nanny was feeding Ye his medicine when he suddenly spat out a large amount of pus and blood. After the pus and blood were cleared, Nanny noticed Ye’s fingers seemed to move slightly.
Taking a closer look, it was true; his hands were flexing at the fingers, and eventually, the second joints could move too. He was now also able to make some sounds from his throat. Nanny quickly went to call the Consort.
When the Consort entered, she saw Ye’s head moving, and he could even clench his fists. In that moment, she rushed forward and hugged Ye tightly, “Xiaoye, Xiaoye…”
…
With the medical enthusiast present, Ye’s condition improved day by day. Initially, only his hands could move, but later his feet became responsive too, though his speech was still unclear. However, the Consort could clearly hear Ye’s voice now. She had heard from Nangong Nini that Ye’s voice was particularly pleasant—a raspy, masculine tone—and she had been looking forward to hearing it. When she finally did, it was even more pleasant than she had imagined.
For a mother, the greatest joy is nothing less than seeing her son grow up and excel, being an outstanding figure. In the description provided by Nangong Nini, Nangong Ye seemed to have been just that in the past.
The Consort notified the Emperor to e and see Ye, and the Emperor, observing Ye’s daily improvements, was also very pleased.
Yet Ye seemed burdened by something he couldn’t let go of. He would repeat the same few syllables each time he woke up, until the day Ye pointed at the writing supplies in the room.
The Consort hurriedly had someone grind the ink, then helped Ye sit up. His hands could now move, and although the characters were not as forceful and vigorous as before, they were not difficult to discern. Despite some shakes, the few characters he wrote were crystal clear: Save, the lady.
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