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That night, after being rescued by Song Feiwan, Rong Jiayi lost too much blood and fell into a coma before he could even reach the Prince's residence.
As night fell, the entire Beichen Courtyard was brightly lit. The sounds of hurried footsteps echoed in the room, accompanied by a strong smell of blood. Aside from Dongzhi, who had recently become accustomed to being by Song Feiwan's side, and Butler Sun, who had seen his fair share of turmoil, the other servants struggled to suppress their discomfort. There was too much blood—enough to drain him completely. Would Lord Rong really survive?
In contrast to the others, Song Feiwan remained calm and composed, issuing one order after another with precision. "Get more hot water; tell the kitchen to move quickly. The wounds are too deep; they need stitching. Dongzhi, go boil the needles and threads in the medicine box thoroughly. Butler Sun, have you brought the Ma Fei San from the storeroom?"
Rong Jiayi, who had originally fallen into a coma, began to regain consciousness due to the pain from his wounds. However, this was merely a surface awareness; it was not enough for him to open his eyes. Even Song Feiwan's voice sounded distant and muffled, as if separated by an unbreakable membrane.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his arm. He heard Song Feiwan calmly instructing, "Hold him down; don’t let him move! The Ma Fei San will take effect soon; just endure it a little longer." It took Rong Jiayi a moment to realize that the latter part of her statement was directed at him.
He could hear the sound of a fine instrument piercing flesh, but he felt no pain in his body anymore. An endless darkness surged forth as his consciousness began to plunge into the depths of the sea.
Under normal circumstances, he would have fought with all his might to stay awake. Only those who remained conscious could survive in the treacherous den of tigers and wolves where suspects gathered at the Dali Temple. But now that he knew Song Feiwan was treating him, he felt an unprecedented sense of security.
There was nothing he needed to do; no need to struggle—he just had to trust her and leave everything in her hands. Rong Jiayi's eyelids grew heavy as he completely relaxed his body.
When he opened his eyes, it felt as if he had just fallen asleep a moment ago, without even having a dream.
After a brief moment, his vision cleared, and he realized he was lying on a strange bed. The slightest movement sent waves of pain through his body, as if he had been run over by a carriage. Veins throbbed on his forehead, and he stifled a groan between clenched teeth.
Lord Rong has awakened! Suddenly, a woman exclaimed, "Quick, go inform the Princess!"
Soon, hurried footsteps approached, and the door swung open. A slender figure stepped into the room, backlit by the sunlight, and walked to his bedside, lowering her head to look at him.
"Don't move; be careful not to open your wounds. It's fortunate you only slept for three hours before waking up."
Rong Jiayi gazed at Song Feiwan's pale and beautiful face, his mind blank for a moment. She feigned vulnerability, appearing so fragile. Yet when she took on the role of a doctor, she exuded strength and brilliance that commanded respect.
He opened his mouth to express his gratitude but could only manage a hoarse gasp.
He was taken aback, surprise flashing in his eyes.
After the servants brought in a chair, they all quietly retreated from the room.
Song Feiwan sat down and said, "You've injured your throat and cannot speak for now. From here on out, when I ask you questions, just nod or shake your head."
Her reminder helped Rong Jiayi piece together his memories.
A rainy night, an assassination attempt, a mask.
Xiao Yu is not dead!!
He needed to rush to the palace and report this matter to His Majesty and the Empress Dowager!
And what about Song Feiwan?
Now that she was the Princess Consort of Chen Wang, would she burst into tears of joy upon learning that Xiao Yu was alive?
Thinking of this made Rong Jiayi's heart feel as if it had been struck by something heavy—an uncomfortable sensation settled in his chest.
"I told you not to move; why are you trying to get up? Lie back down," Song Feiwan said with slightly furrowed brows.
Doctors naturally possess an aura that commands authority; when Rong Jiayi met her gaze, he instinctively lay back down as she had instructed.
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