Chapter 37: Chosen by the Devil

Everyone turned their gaze to Tan Qingjiu and Shen Yingjue.

“Although Divine Physician Tan has been cleared of suspicion, why do I find her even more pitiful now?”

“Isn’t it so? To have caught the interest of a madman—how tragic.”

At the center of all this gossip, Tan Qingjiu remained perfectly composed. She glanced at Shen Yingjue. “Your Highness, shall we?”

She followed Prince Duan into the carriage. Once the door closed, the voices outside faded. Only then did Tan Qingjiu study Shen Yingjue with a probing look. “Is Your Highness once again using some excuse to take me away?”

Shen Yingjue lounged against the large pillow, his expression leisurely. “Divine Physician Tan, you overthink things. If this were a ruse, it would be a false imperial edict.”

“I warned you last time already, told you to be prepared.”

Tan Qingjiu was startled, at last feeling a touch of reality. Indeed, he had warned her before, but after that day, nothing had happened for several days. She’d assumed he was merely being alarmist.

Who would have thought…the Emperor truly summoned her?

Over the years—especially after deciding to return to the capital—she’d known this day would come, that the Emperor would call for her. But she’d imagined it would be after she’d made a name for herself, summoned for her remarkable medical skills.

Not…for this.

Shen Yingjue caught the fleeting change in her expression, a hint of a smile curling his lips. “Good. When you see His Majesty, you ought to appear more nervous.”

“If you’re too calm, you’ll only draw the Emperor’s attention.”

“And attracting the Emperor’s attention is never a good thing.”

Tan Qingjiu’s gaze lingered on Shen Yingjue’s face, pausing mid-thought.

“Why does Divine Physician Tan keep looking at me?”

She shook her head. It just occurred to her—wasn’t Prince Duan the son of the Emperor? Yet, except for a couple of times in public when he called the Emperor “Father,” in private, he always referred to him as “the Emperor” or “His Majesty,” never “Father.”

And moreover…

She felt that Shen Yingjue’s behavior in public and in private was markedly different. In public, he was wild and reckless, with a touch of madness even when not afflicted by his illness. In private, he seemed colder, almost indifferent, every word and gesture laced with nonchalance, as if nothing truly mattered to him.

Tan Qingjiu regarded him with a contemplative gaze. This mask concealed too much. She could glean only the most basic cues from his eyes, but it was difficult to distinguish—which Shen Yingjue was real? The one before others, or the one behind closed doors?

Or perhaps…neither?

She was lost in thought when suddenly, the golden mask loomed closer. In Shen Yingjue’s dark, ink-like eyes, there flickered a dangerous light. “If Divine Physician Tan keeps staring at me like this, I might misunderstand. I’ll think you’ve fallen for me at first sight, that you’re eager to explore the depths of my soul and spend the rest of your life by my side.”

“….”

The sudden closeness of that mask startled her, making her involuntarily shrink back. She thought to herself, to say such things with that look in his eyes—he was rather intimidating.

“The antidote I gave you before, did you take it?”

Shen Yingjue leaned back against the pillow again and nodded. “I did.”

“May I check your pulse?” Tan Qingjiu lowered her gaze to his hand. “I’ve already formulated the full prescription for your antidote. However, there are three ingredients I simply can’t find in any pharmacy in the capital. I’ve sent a message by carrier pigeon to the Healing Hands Pavilion; they’ll send them to me.”

At these words, Shen Yingjue lifted his eyelids, interest flickering in his eyes. “So swift?”

But he did not extend his hand.

Tan Qingjiu understood well—he was still wary of her—but she paid it no mind and nodded. “Although I’ve devised the prescription, Your Highness’s poison has long been dormant in your body, festering for years. The antidote you’ve been taking only suppresses it; it cannot eradicate it. The toxin still lingers. Now, with the medicine abruptly stopped, the poison has been provoked and strikes fiercely.”

“To cleanse you entirely is not the work of a day or two. It must be done gradually, drawing out the poison bit by bit. I’ll need to check your pulse every half month or so, to adjust the prescription as necessary.”

Shen Yingjue lowered his eyes. “Not the work of a day or two? Then how long will it take?”

“At least three months, at most six.”

Tan Qingjiu was making her own calculations. It was true that Shen Yingjue’s poison couldn’t be cured overnight, but it wouldn’t really take as long as three months. Still, judging by today’s events and the one before, although Shen Yingjue was known as the mad prince, he was, after all, still a prince—and that title was useful. If she could use her role as Prince Duan’s physician as cover, it might help her avoid a great deal of trouble.

She had set the maximum to six months just to avoid arousing his suspicion.

Three to six months would be enough—enough for her to firmly establish herself in the capital.

“At least three months, at most six?” Shen Yingjue looked at her with a faint smile, as if peering into her soul. “Then during that time, I must ask Divine Physician Tan to take good care of me.”

The hand Tan Qingjiu kept clenched in her sleeve slowly relaxed. Had Shen Yingjue not suspected her?

That was good.

Still, dealing with him was exhausting. This man was far shrewder and more complicated than she had imagined. He seemed shrouded in mystery—a veil she could not see through at all.

The voices outside the carriage gradually faded. Soon, the carriage stopped, and a voice called from outside, “Your Highness, we’ve reached the palace gates. We need to open the door for inspection.”

“Mm,” Shen Yingjue replied.

Tan Qingjiu was surprised. “We don’t need to get out?”

Shen Yingjue smiled. “Ordinary carriages aren’t allowed into the palace, but I am the exception.”

Soon, a palace guard opened the carriage door, glanced inside, and closed it again. “All is well, Your Highness.”

As the carriage moved on, Shen Yingjue’s voice sounded softly, “You must remember, Divine Physician Tan, you are here to treat my madness, not poison.”

“If you forget, I’m afraid you won’t walk out of the palace today.”