Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

Zhou Wenqing leaned softly against Fusu's shoulder, his eyes half-closed, breathing heavily. Even through the fabric, Fusu could clearly feel the burning heat of Zhou Wenqing's body, which made Fusu's fingertips tremble uncontrollably.

Despite all the precautions, we still couldn't prevent it.

The coughing up of blood had slightly relieved the tightness in my chest, but the real loss of vital energy couldn't be replenished in a short time.

He was already suffering from a chronic illness, and his heart condition was unstable. He had only been able to suppress the palpitations with an excessive amount of medication. Now, all the accumulated aftereffects were backfiring and erupting.

In addition, the constant travel and physical exertion left him exhausted, and the night winds and frosts further drained him both internally and externally...

Various symptoms intertwined and overlapped, and a high fever swept over the whole body in an instant, with a fierce onslaught, and the condition deteriorated rapidly.

Physician Lü placed three fingers on Zhou Wenqing's wrist, feeling the pulse beneath his fingers—a pulse that was floating, weak, and chaotic. The vertical line between his brows furrowed tightly.

Even he was momentarily at a loss, unable to find a safe and reliable treatment method.

Formulas for clearing heat and reducing fever tend to have a cooling effect, especially for such a high fever that comes on so suddenly, it seems that strong medicine is necessary.

However, Zhou Wenqing's heart meridian was so weak that it could not withstand any strong prescriptions. Once cold medicine entered his body, it would not only fail to quell the floating internal heat, but would also damage the internal yang energy, directly harming the source of the heart meridian, which was tantamount to adding insult to injury.

He didn't even dare to knock someone out with a single needle like he used to—forcibly suppressing their consciousness would only further weaken their already frail bodies, causing them to lose their ability to defend themselves against the disease.

We can only let him stay conscious and endure it...

The intense heat, like a raging fire, burned his internal organs from the inside out, intertwining with the throbbing, squeezing pain in his heart. The two waves of pain tore at his body repeatedly, causing Zhou Wen's thin body to tremble uncontrollably, spasming slightly, with even his drooping fingertips quivering slightly, completely out of his control.

He clenched his teeth tightly, his lips were pale and purplish, but his cheeks were flushed with an eerie, sickly red. Occasionally, he couldn't suppress a broken, faint groan of pain from his throat. Every breath was accompanied by waves of throbbing pain. Cold sweat soaked through his temples and rolled down his thin jaw, only to be gently wiped away by Fusu with heartache.

The medicinal wine that Han Fei had bought but never drank finally came in handy.

The medicinal wine is warm in nature, but it can dissipate heat through the meridians. Li Yi poured the wine onto a handkerchief and carefully rubbed the palms, soles, and armpits of the gentleman, where the meridians converge to dissipate heat.

The slight coolness of the surface medicine powder could not suppress the burning heat inside the internal organs.

The man's suppressed, fragmented groans of pain echoed in his ears, each one weak and broken, like a reed about to snap in the wind. Each tremor gripped his heart. Li Yi's anxiety could no longer be contained, and he urged in a hoarse voice:

"Doctor Lü, this won't do! You must think of another way! We can't let the doctor suffer like this any longer!"

Yao Jia and Han Fei, who had remained calm and composed even when facing death, were now in a state of panic and confusion.

Han Fei's hands, clenched behind his back, turned white, and his knuckles cracked. Yao Jia couldn't bear to watch and paced back and forth a short distance away, his boots grinding against the gravel, making a soft, anxious sound.

"Physician Lü, since medicine is not an option, how about acupuncture?" Han Fei finally couldn't help but ask urgently, "Zicheng was cured by acupuncture when he fell ill before, is it not possible this time?"

Yao Jia stepped forward, echoing with concern, "Yes, Physician Lü, we have to think of something. We can't just do nothing! If this fever continues, even a healthy person couldn't withstand it, let alone him!"

Physician Lü did not answer immediately.

He lowered his eyes, three fingers still resting on Zhou Wenqing's wrist, feeling the increasingly disordered pulse under his fingers—floating and without foundation, already at its last gasp.

Such intense heat is scorching the heart, yin and yang are in conflict, and the internal organs are burning with deficiency fire. I'm afraid that before long, the spirit will wither, the pulse will break, and the breath will dissipate, leaving no way to save the patient.

After a long silence, he withdrew his hand, took a deep breath, suppressed the myriad of weighings and reluctance in his heart, and spoke in a deep voice:

"Needles may be used."

Upon hearing this, hope instantly shone in the eyes of Fusu, Han Fei, Yao Jia, Li Yi, and the others.

But the words that followed from Physician Lü instantly extinguished the warmth in the room.

"But this is by no means an ordinary method of maintaining stability; rather, it is a risky tactic, a life-or-death struggle."

Fusu opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat. Li Yi's clenched fist trembled slightly. Han Fei lowered his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing. Yao Jia gritted his teeth and remained silent.

Physician Lü glanced at everyone and continued:

"Now, Zhou Neishi is suffering from a combination of four symptoms: old ailment, drug poisoning, internal deficiency, and external infection. His meridians are blocked and his Qi is in great disarray. Ordinary methods of guiding Qi, stabilizing the pulse, and calming the mind are useless as they cannot suppress the current raging fire and the collapse of the heart meridian. What I need to use is a method of breaking down and then rebuilding—deeply puncturing the heart meridians, breaking up the blockage and guiding the flow of Qi, forcibly drawing the floating fire back to its source, and regulating the Qi."

"If this method works, it can break through the blockage in the heart meridians and stabilize the original true essence. It can not only immediately reduce the dangerous high fever, but also stabilize the heart meridians, so that the aftereffects of this ordeal will not continue to worsen and shorten lifespan. It is even possible that long-term conditioning in the future can slightly alleviate the condition."

"Then what are we waiting for?!" Fusu's eyes lit up upon hearing this, and he said urgently, "Quickly administer acupuncture to the master! If any medicinal herbs are missing, just say the word. Even if I have to turn the palace treasury upside down, I will find them for the master!"

It's probably not that simple.

At this moment, only Fusu was in a state of panic, hearing only the hope of survival and not the danger.

Han Fei, Yao Jia, and Li Yi, who were standing to the side, felt a heavy weight in their hearts, and their expressions became increasingly solemn.

If medicine alone could truly save a life, Physician Lü would never have called this method "risking one's life for another."

The three of them kept silent, waiting for what would happen next, a sense of foreboding already creeping into their hearts.

As expected, Physician Lü slowly shook his head: "It's not that we're lacking medicinal herbs."

He paused, then changed the subject, his tone becoming increasingly somber: "This method is extremely domineering. When the needles are applied, the blood and qi surge violently, and the pain of the meridians being pulled is excruciating, far exceeding the pain of normal times by a hundred times. Moreover, this technique is most susceptible to drowsiness and loss of qi. Zhou Neishi must remain fully conscious throughout the entire process and cannot lose focus for even a moment."

"If one succumbs to the pain and falls into a coma halfway through, causing one's vital energy to dissipate, then there may truly be no cure, not even a miracle cure."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone fell into a sudden, startled silence.

"How could this happen?!"

The joy on Fusu's face vanished abruptly, replaced by shock. He instinctively shook his head repeatedly.

"No, absolutely not! Sir is already extremely weak; how can he withstand such torture? This method is far too dangerous and must not be used!"

Li Yi clenched his fists, his brow furrowed with anxiety: "Young Master is right, but how can the Master possibly endure any more torture now? It's too risky. Physician Lü, is there no other way?"

Han Fei and Yao Jia also looked worried, hesitant to speak. The eight words "no cure by medicine, no salvation by gods" were like a sharp sword hanging over their heads, making them lose their usual decisiveness.

Several people surrounded Physician Lü, deliberating and trying to find a more gentle, safe, and satisfactory solution. They hesitated and argued with each other, unable to make up their minds.

In the midst of the stalemate, a rapid, labored breath suddenly rang out.

Everyone's gaze suddenly returned to the person who was trembling all over.

Zhou Wenqing's eyes were half-open, his gaze filled with a heavy, sickly intensity, his vision unfocused and hazy. He looked so weak that he seemed as if he would fall away in the next second.

But he was still conscious and heard the confusion and hesitation of the crowd.

Zhou Wenqing, using the last of his strength, slightly moved his chapped lips, his voice broken, hoarse, and barely audible—

Yet it conceals an unwavering certainty that penetrates all hesitation:

"……bring it on."