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墨書 Inktalez
Rong Jiayi looked as if he were facing a formidable enemy, as though he were about to stab him. Just moments ago, his mood had been stirred by Li Fei, which had lightened his spirits a bit.
Rong Jiayi gazed into her beautiful eyes, momentarily taken aback, and then felt his ears burning even more. He forced a smile at the corners of his mouth.
Perhaps the smile was too stiff, as Song Feiwan's eyes crinkled with amusement. In that moment, the two of them saw only each other, causing Xiao Yu's gaze to darken and the atmosphere around them to grow tense.
Zhao Yuyi cautiously moved a few steps back, tilting his head to observe Song Feiwan's actions more closely. She had first instructed the palace maid to boil the tweezers and other instruments in hot water.
Since there was no iodine available, she disinfected the cotton balls and tweezers with alcohol. Then, bending slightly, she placed one hand on the blue cloth and gently pulled apart the edges of the incision to reveal the wound beneath.
There was no sign of inflammation or swelling; it seemed to be healing well. "I can remove the stitches now," she declared.
Rong Jiayi opened his mouth and hoarsely said, "Thank you."
Song Feiwan was a bit surprised. "You can already speak?"
Rong Jiayi nodded again, thinking to himself that his voice was just too soft; one had to lean in close to hear him.
In the brief exchange, Song Feiwan disinfected the wound, and he felt a sharp pain in his muscles but remained silent. She then retrieved disinfected scissors, and Rong Jiayi felt a cool touch against his skin. With two quick snips, Song Feiwan cleaned away the thread ends and asked, "This area is fine now; it doesn’t hurt, does it?"
Rong Jiayi shook his head.
"Then I’ll continue," she said.
Everyone present, except for Song Feiwan, had never witnessed such a method of treating wounds. Zhao Yuyi watched intently, eager to learn, while Xiao Yu focused intently on her work.
Before long, Song Feiwan finished removing all the stitches and stood up to instruct him: "Take care of it for a while longer when you get back; avoid getting the wound wet. I’ll step out for now; you should put your clothes on."
In a moment of panic, Rong Jiayi raised his hand as the blue cloth slipped down, threatening to reveal his strong arms.
Xiao Yu stepped forward decisively and pulled the cloth back into place. The two cousins exchanged glances:
The atmosphere was somewhat tense.
Song Feiwan tentatively asked, "Your Highness, has she given you the treatment?"
Xiao Yu replied, "Mm."
Zhao Yuyi hurried out behind Song Feiwan, eager to consult her.
However, Li Fei stepped forward and asked, "Has the Princess Consort already removed the stitches for Lord Rong?"
This method of treatment was something she had only heard of; she was deeply curious.
Song Feiwan glanced at her indifferently and did not respond.
Li Fei continued haughtily, "Even if you are a physician, you are still a woman. How can you look at a man beyond his clothing?"
Zhao Yuyi could no longer hold back and retorted, "Your Highness, you may not be aware. Lord Rong was covered with a cloth."
He gestured to indicate a small area where the cloth had been cut, revealing only the wound—nothing else could be seen.
Li Fei was momentarily taken aback but quickly countered, "But that means you still saw something!"
Zhao Yuyi replied, "By your logic, everyone’s face, neck, and hands are exposed; there’s even more to see there."
Li Fei refused to believe that Song Feiwan was so skilled that it left Zhao Yuyi in awe. Frustrated and angry, she exclaimed, "You are being outrageous!"
Zhao Yuyi's face turned pale as he hurriedly knelt down to plead for mercy.
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