Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Pill, Exposed

If one were to ask Song Ci whether she feared death, it would be difficult to say. To claim she wasn’t afraid—when truly faced with mortality, there would always be a trace of unwillingness. Yet to say she was afraid would not be quite right either; after all, she had already ‘died’ once. At worst, if she died again this time, it would be true death, rather than being sent into another world. If luck favored her, perhaps she would return to her original modern life.

In truth, Song Ci feared illness far more than death. With her frail and ailing body, the prospect of illness striking at any moment was far more terrifying. Death was a release; the torment of sickness, however, made life itself a misery worse than death.

So would Song Ci dare not listen to Lin Qing’s instructions? Of course not—she had to cooperate. If only for a few more years of comfort, to gaze a little longer upon the splendor of the ancient world.

“Doctor, you need only devise a treatment plan. I will cooperate with you in every respect,” Song Ci said, gripping Lin Qing’s hand with determination.

Lin Qing was momentarily speechless.

Such a compliant old lady was truly a rare sight. It seemed this venerable matron valued the prime minister’s household greatly. Indeed, if she were gone, Lord Song would have to go into mourning—how could she bear it?

“In that case, I shall give you daily acupuncture and massage, at the very least to expel some of the toxins that have built up in your body over the years. Accompanied by medicinal cuisine, what do you think?” Lin Qing proposed.

Madam Song gasped in alarm. “Toxins? How could there be toxins? Are you suggesting our venerable madam has been poisoned?”

Lin Qing was about to explain when Song Ci interjected, “It’s not poisoning. It’s the remnants of various illnesses over the years, viruses that have lingered and accumulated little by little, forming toxins that remain in the body, making it feel heavy and unwell.”

Madam Song was stunned. How could the old lady possibly know such things?

Lin Qing was even more surprised. “Venerable Madam, you actually understand this principle of medicine?”

Song Ci was silent.

She’d let it slip.

She laughed awkwardly. “I once heard a traveling physician speak of it. He made it sound so frightening that I remembered it all these years. It seems I’m not quite senile yet, am I?”

So that was the reason.

Lin Qing smiled. “Then the doctor you met must have been quite skilled, and he wasn’t far wrong.”

“Indeed,” Song Ci replied, shamelessly bluffing.

“If you agree, shall we proceed as discussed?” Lin Qing asked.

Song Ci nodded, then asked carefully, “Ah, will the acupuncture hurt much?”

“I’ll be gentle,” Lin Qing assured her.

Still, Song Ci pulled a wry face. In other words, it would hurt—a fact she’d expected. When has acupuncture ever been painless?

Lin Qing arranged to come again that evening for the treatment, then took her leave.

Watching Madam Song, Song Ci said, “You have plenty to do, you should go as well. Dalang will need you to look after him.”

The madam instantly recalled her earlier ‘bold words’ and blushed, feigning nonchalance. “The prime minister hasn’t returned home yet.”

“Even so, return to your courtyard and do as you wish.”

Madam Song pretended to be wounded. “It seems Mother is weary of me. Well, I won’t linger to try your patience. If you need anything, just send Hongyou or the others.”

Song Ci inwardly sighed. Were all ancient people so theatrical?

Once Madam Song had left, Song Ci lay down again, instructing Mama Gong to distribute the items they’d purchased to the various households. She had barely closed her eyes when a ruckus erupted outside the courtyard.

Song Ci snapped her eyes open, gripped Hongyou’s hand, and hurried into the inner room. “Quickly, say that I am weary from strolling and have fallen asleep. Tell him to return to his rooms to study, there’s no need for him to come and keep me company.”

She could not bear that little drama king, the ‘fake Baoyu,’ with his endless terms of endearment and long-windedness.

Hongyou and the others could hardly suppress their laughter—they never expected Fourth Master to one day become unwelcome to the venerable madam.

Mama Gong, however, watched Song Ci disappear behind the screen with a slight frown, then went to the doorway to intercept Song Zhiyu.