Chapter 8: The Misunderstanding
“Can it really be cured?” Song Qingshu asked with some doubt. After all, even Nameless had no real solution.
“Brother Song, don’t get your hopes too high. I can only do my best and try. The chances of success are only ten to twenty percent. Does Brother Song still want to go ahead?”
Zhang Wuji thought it over carefully, then frowned as he spoke.
“Ten to twenty percent is enough. Just do your best.”
For Song Qingshu, who had already been resigned to despair, that was indeed a high enough chance. If Zhang Wuji had confidently claimed there was more than a fifty percent chance of a cure, Song Qingshu would have been less inclined to believe him. After all, even Nameless had been helpless. But now that Zhang Wuji had said this, a sliver of hope immediately rose in Song Qingshu’s heart.
“Brother Wuji, I think you’d better not try. If you fail, you’ll only end up a villain for nothing.”
Zhao Min felt that her beloved’s move this time was a little too abrupt. If he cured Song Qingshu, hardly anyone would thank him; if he failed, all kinds of rumors would probably start flying around.
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Zhang Wuji said in a low voice. Zhao Min thought he was simply trying his best to mend Song Qingshu’s injuries to make up for what he owed Zhou Zhiruo, and she said nothing more.
“Miss Zhao, please rest assured. If he can’t be cured, then it’s simply my fate, and Song won’t blame anyone.”
The way Song Qingshu said it made Zhao Min feel strangely curious. Since when had Song Qingshu become so broad-minded?
Zhou Zhiruo also found it a little odd, but she herself felt guilty, so she didn’t think too deeply about it and echoed his words, “Master Zhang, just do your best. The two of us, husband and wife, will remember your kindness.”
At first Song Qingshu had been worried that Zhang Wuji meant to take the opportunity to kill him, but on second thought, Zhang Wuji had agreed to treat him in front of so many people today. If the treatment failed, so be it, but if he actually died from it, then considering how well known Zhang Wuji’s affair with Zhou Zhiruo had once been, the entire martial world would probably think Zhang Wuji had killed his husband and stolen his wife, making him nothing more than a shameless villain.
Over the next stretch of time, Zhang Wuji kept coming to treat Song Qingshu, applying acupuncture, giving medicine, and channeling inner force to heal him. He rushed back and forth, and after just a few days, his internal energy had been heavily depleted.
Song Qingshu, on the other hand, started feeling a little bad about it. He thought that Zhang Wuji had really gone above and beyond for a love rival like him.
“Time for your medicine, Qingshu.” Zhou Zhiruo brought over a bowl of dark Chinese medicine, lifted his head, and fed him spoonful by spoonful.
Leaning against Zhou Zhiruo, feeling the springiness of her body and that faint, delicate fragrance, Song Qingshu couldn’t help letting his thoughts drift for a moment.
During this whole time, he hadn’t relaxed his guard at all. Every night he stayed on alert in case Zhang Wuji came sneaking in again to steal kisses and pleasure like he had last time. Several days passed without any sign of trouble, and no one had come to seal his acupoints either. Then he thought of that Princess Shaomin too; she was no ordinary woman, sharp-minded and cunning. This time, knowing full well that Zhang Wuji was frequently in contact with Zhou Zhiruo, if she could still let him sneak over for secret meetings every night without realizing it, then she would hardly deserve the title of being clever beyond compare.
After not seeing her for a few days, Zhou Zhiruo seemed to have filled out even more. While he was drinking the medicine, Song Qingshu’s side glance landed on the beauty beside him, and he gave a wicked smile.
Then all at once, Song Qingshu thought of a terrifying possibility, and the smile froze on his face.
“Zhiruo, my stomach feels a little off. I’m going out for a moment.” Song Qingshu said, pretending to be awkward.
Zhou Zhiruo smiled with pursed lips, rose to her feet, straightened her dress, and stepped aside to let him pass.
Song Qingshu trotted all the way to the latrine. After checking carefully that no one was around, he hurriedly stuck his fingers down his throat and gagged, vomiting up all the medicine he had just drunk.
Only then had Song Qingshu realized that Zhou Zhiruo’s breasts had been growing more and more full. He suddenly remembered that a woman’s body only becomes fuller when it is often nourished by dew and rain. He had been guarding against the two of them sneaking around at night, but then it struck him: couldn’t they also be sneaking around in broad daylight?
Because it had always been daytime before, Song Qingshu had let down his guard. Looking back now, after each dose of medicine he had felt dazed for a while. At the time he had thought it was like the drowsy side effects of certain Western medicines from his past life, and since it was bright daylight, he had not paid it much mind.
Not long after returning to the room, Song Qingshu pretended exhaustion was washing over him. His eyelids half-opened and half-closed, and soon he had fallen asleep.
“Qingshu? Qingshu?” Zhou Zhiruo gently pushed him a few times, puzzled. “Why do you fall asleep so quickly every time after taking your medicine?”
“No need to call him. He’s been hit by the improved Ten Fragrance Soft Tendon Powder I made. He won’t wake up for an hour.”
At that moment Zhang Wuji’s voice came from outside. Song Qingshu was shocked, and then his sleeping acupoint was struck.
Hearing the content of their conversation, Song Qingshu finally understood, before he fainted again, that the two of them really were carrying on behind his back. His anger erupted like a volcano. Heh, heh, heh. How foolish he had been, thinking they were trying to save him, when in reality they had only used that as a cover so they could cheat together.
“Zhang Wuji, what do you mean by this?”
Seeing Song Qingshu’s head tilt to one side, Zhou Zhiruo quickly reached out and felt under his nose. Only after confirming that he was still breathing did she let out a breath of relief. Then she turned to Zhang Wuji, and her face instantly darkened.
“If we didn’t do it this way, where would we get a chance to say a few private words? It’s always inconvenient with him awake,” Zhang Wuji said, glancing at Song Qingshu.
“Master Zhang, please show some restraint!”
Zhou Zhiruo stood up, a trace of coldness in her voice. “I did indeed agree before to make up with you, but as for Song Qingshu, I owe him. You must cure him. Otherwise, there will always be a thorn in my heart, and I can never be at peace with you.”
Zhang Wuji was silent for a moment, then answered, “Of course.”
“Can you really... really cure Qingshu?” Zhou Zhiruo noticed the uncertainty in his tone and immediately asked suspiciously.
Zhang Wuji hesitated, then still said, “Brother Song’s meridians are completely severed. This is no longer something medicine can cure. What I said about having a ten percent chance was already a great exaggeration.”
“So you treating Qingshu’s injuries was just an excuse to get close to me!”
Zhou Zhiruo glared at him in anger. “I knew it. I’ve been wondering why Qingshu fell asleep every time after drinking the medicine these past few days. So it was all your doing.”
“If not that, then what? If I came looking for you openly every day, there would inevitably be rumors. That wouldn’t be good for either of us.” Zhang Wuji said with a bitter smile.
“I can let the earlier matter go, but you must cure Qingshu.” Zhou Zhiruo said firmly.
“It’s Qingshu this and Qingshu that. What, do you care about him that much?” Zhang Wuji couldn’t help feeling a little jealous.
“Maybe this is just an excuse for persuading me to leave my husband and be with you,” Zhou Zhiruo said, her voice full of grievance. “Brother Wuji, you know perfectly well how I feel about you, but I am a married woman. I have my own concerns.”
“I was wrong, all right? Zhiruo, my dear.” Zhang Wuji hurriedly apologized.
“You clearly have divine medical skills. How could you fail to cure Qingshu’s injuries?”
A thought suddenly flashed through Zhou Zhiruo’s mind. She looked at him and asked, “Could it be that because Qingshu is my husband, you’re deliberately refusing to treat him out of male jealousy?”
“How could that be?” Zhang Wuji waved his hands at once. “I truly did everything I could.”
Zhou Zhiruo kept staring at him without blinking. Only after his expression became a little unnatural did she say lightly, “Fine. I’ll believe you for now. But this treatment can’t continue any longer. I’ll take Qingshu back to Mount Emei to recover first. When you come up with a way to cure him, then come find me.”
Zhang Wuji opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but Zhou Zhiruo did not give him the chance. In a cold voice she said, “Come on, see Master Zhang out.”
Watching Zhang Wuji leave helplessly, Zhou Zhiruo murmured to herself, “Brother Wuji, I know you have a way to save him. It all depends on whether you’re willing to pay such a great price for me.”