บท 126: Perfection of things one doesn't possess

Xuan Cheng entered her private chambers, observing Prince Ming still enveloped in the large animal skin and fur blankets. A heavy sigh escaped her lips at the sight.

"The fever seems to be subsiding," reported the physician from Duyi, summoned by Xuan Cheng.

"I see..." Xuan Cheng settled onto the stool beside the unconscious Zhao Ming, her delicate fingers resting gently on his wrist as she closed her eyes. "His breathing has slowed, yet his blood races through his veins," she remarked aloud, prompting the physician to meticulously note down her observations.

"Externally, the wounds have healed, but internally, there's been no improvement," Xuan Cheng voiced, a sense of emptiness creeping into her heart at the sluggish progress of Zhao Ming's recovery.

"Have you administered the pills I provided last night?" Xuan Cheng inquired, her concern evident as she noticed no discernible effect from the medication.