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Who knows what they would do if they knew she had to rely on Lan Xun to prolong her life?
No, no—she absolutely could not let them find out.
They would surely treat her like a demon who drains a person’s life force, bind her, and burn her alive. That’s exactly how the records described such creatures.
If her method of prolonging life caused any real harm to Lan Xun, she would stop immediately.
While Mu Shengsheng felt a pang of guilt, Luo Qing asked Lan Xun, “Your Highness, did you give her any medicine?”
Lan Xun answered truthfully, “It was the pill you previously gave the King. The day before yesterday, she was on the verge of collapse, so the King administered it to her.”
Luo Qing was initially slightly surprised. That pill was meant to push the human body to its limits, excite the senses, and dull pain. Normally, it could sustain someone severely wounded or bleeding heavily until help arrived.
What puzzled him was how this pill could work on Mu Shengsheng’s strange illness.
He pondered aloud, “Could it be that by some accident, this pill alleviated her condition?”
Once convinced that Mu Shengsheng’s recovery was not just a temporary rebound but a genuine relief from her illness, Lan Xun finally relaxed.
He suggested, “In that case, Divine Doctor Luo could try making more of this medicine. It might even cure her.”
Luo Qing hesitated. “Your Highness, you may not know… This medicine comes from my master, who has long since passed. My skills are insufficient; I have not yet learned the preparation method. I’ve heard the formula is recorded in the ancient book Qing Nang Jing, but unfortunately, that book has long been lost…”
Lan Xun and Mu Shengsheng exchanged a knowing glance.
That settles it.
Mu Shengsheng retrieved the Qing Nang Jing copy from under her pillow.
It was a transcription she had made earlier, before Lan Xun arrived.
Lan Xun took the copy, flipped through a few pages, noting the light, unsteady strokes, some shaky from her trembling hand. But overall, the handwriting was neat and elegant, full of sincerity.
She had even taken the trouble to copy it—so quickly!
Lan Xun’s gaze lingered on Mu Shengsheng’s face for a moment before he handed the book to Luo Qing.
“This is…”
Luo Qing’s eyes widened when he saw the three characters Qing Nang Jing. At first, he had doubted, but upon checking, the contents matched what his master had taught him.
Lan Xun instructed, “This is the copy of Qing Nang Jing you requested. You have seven days to deliver the medicine to the King.”
“I will do my utmost…”
Luo Qing’s fatigue vanished, replaced by excitement. Holding the book, he excused himself immediately, eager to begin studying, hoping to find a cure for Mu Shengsheng as soon as possible.
After Mu Shengsheng had collapsed from vomiting blood, she had no idea what medicine Lan Xun had given her.
Still, she pinned her hopes on this divine doctor, wishing he could truly find a way to save her.
If successful, she would no longer need to rely on Lan Xun to survive. Even if one day Lan Xun wished to send her away, she could live by taking medicine—and perhaps, eventually, her body could fully recover.
Once Mu Shengsheng was settled, Lan Xun prepared to step out.
Mu Shengsheng tugged at his sleeve. “Your Highness, are you leaving?”
Lan Xun replied truthfully, “There are still many matters piled up that need handling. I must attend to them. You should rest well.”
She didn’t try to stop him but sat upright, unusually serious. “Your Highness, wait a moment. I have something to ask. Where is my father? Why hasn’t he returned to the capital yet?”
A month ago, Marquis Xuanwu had left the capital, claiming he had heard of a divine doctor and would personally bring him back to treat Mu Shengsheng.
Originally, no matter what happened, he had promised to return in time for her birthday.
But now, two days had passed, and her father was nowhere in sight.
Her father, a man of his word, would not abandon his seriously ill daughter without cause. Something must have happened.
Hadn’t Lan Xun said he sent someone to urge her father back? Did he know his whereabouts?
Lan Xun was silent for a moment, knowing the truth could not be hidden. He finally said, “Marquis Xuanwu is missing. I only received this news today.”
Mu Shengsheng was shocked, her eyes reddening. “What! My father is missing?”
The mighty Marquis Xuanwu, a celebrated warrior—how could he vanish like this?
Not only was he missing, but she had narrowly escaped death herself. Everything seemed connected, as if some hidden plot targeted them both.
Lan Xun reassured her, “I have already sent people to search for him. You need only focus on your recovery and not worry.”
Mu Shengsheng knew survival was her top priority; only then could she hope to see her father again.
“Thank you, Your Highness. If you hear anything of my father, please do let me know.”
Her tone was respectful and polite, making Lan Xun momentarily forget about the sudden kiss and deep confession from the previous day.
After Lan Xun left, night fell.
Mu Shengsheng called Xuanji over. “Could you get me some incense, candles, and paper offerings?”
Xuanji, competent under the Regency Prince, managed to buy everything she needed in less than half an hour.
Then, he helped her dress, don a cloak, and carry a lantern to a suitable spot.
Lighting the incense and paper offerings, Mu Shengsheng closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and silently prayed: Mother, Shengsheng will live well.
Her mother had died shortly after giving birth to her, and today happened to be her mother’s memorial day.
On the day of her birth during the Ghost Festival, her mother died protecting her. Seen as unlucky, and born with a weak body and terminal illness, doctors said she would not live past sixteen.
Everyone expected her to die, but her father insisted she survive, naming her “Shengsheng.”
Every year, her father would personally take her to honor her mother. This year, with her father absent and her life spared, Mu Shengsheng could only offer paper offerings herself.
Back home, she read for a while, then washed up, changed, and went to bed.
Worried about her father’s whereabouts, she tossed and turned before falling into a deep sleep.
That night, she dreamed of her mother.
She had only seen her mother’s portrait, so in her dream, her mother’s face was unclear, wearing the pale blue dress from the painting.
Her mother smiled gently, cupping her face. “Shengsheng has grown so much.”
Overcome with grief from recent events, Mu Shengsheng threw herself into her mother’s arms, tears falling like pearls. “Mother, I miss you so much…”
“I miss you too.”
She confided, “Mother, they said I would die, but I survived. Am I… really capable?”
Her mother hugged her, face to face. “Yes, Shengsheng. You will live well, long and strong.”
“Mother… Mother…”
By the bedside, Lan Xun gently drew back the curtain, standing quietly there.