He had a pair of alluring, slanted fox-like eyes with brown pupils.
Just looking at her eyes, they are incredibly alluring and captivating.
The man's gaze swept across the girl in blue.
"It's you." The voice trailed off lazily.
Ayan: "You recognize me?"
How can I not recognize it?
Shen Qingyu scoffed lightly. Wasn't this the pretty girl who followed that Embroidered Robe Envoy?
Last time he glanced at him a couple more times, and Song Liulang's eyes widened in alarm.
Shen Qingyu covered her face with a white handkerchief.
He lazily ordered, "Let's go."
This little beauty is just unlucky; he's not in the mood to play with anyone else right now.
It seemed that the sedan chair was about to set off again.
Ayan spoke up: "Is the young master ill? He is weak and listless, and has no energy to do anything."
Shen Qingyu, sitting in the sedan chair, brightened up.
"You can tell?"
"When did you first fall ill, young master?" Ayan asked.
Sitting in the sedan chair, Shen Qingyu crossed his legs and looked down at her.
They did not speak.
However, his servant dared not be careless.
"The young master fell ill after the last banquet at Song Garden. Many doctors were consulted, but none of them could find anything wrong. They just said that he was probably exhausted."
Ayan shook her head.
“Those people naturally wouldn’t notice.”
Servant: "Young lady, can you cure my young master's weakness?"
Ayan: "I can try my best."
Sitting in the sedan chair, Shen Qingyu laughed and said, "You little beast, you're acting like the master of your young master."
The servant immediately knelt down and apologized.
Shen Qingyu's fox-like eyes fell on Ayan's face.
"Fine, I'll let you try. If you can't cure it, I'll be angry."
The servant secretly rejoiced.
Fortunately, the girl didn't know the price of Young Master Shen's anger, otherwise she definitely wouldn't have dared to treat him.
.
This place is at the exit of the bamboo garden, so it is naturally not suitable for treating illnesses.
The servants carried Shen Qingyu to an empty flower hall.
Ayan first took his pulse, and then carefully examined his complexion, eyes, and tongue coating.
Shen Qingyu smiled and said, "It does look quite convincing. Is there any way to treat it?"
Ayan didn't reply.
He turned and gave instructions to the maid who was following him.
Go and find some cypress leaves, bitter chrysanthemum, goji berries, and cassia seeds.
A moment later, everything was found.
Ayan crushed these things, kneaded them into a small ball, and put them into the incense burner to light them.
Then he said to Shen Qingyu, "Young Master, why don't you take a nap? The upcoming treatment is a bit frightening. It's best if you don't watch it."
Shen Qingyu laughed: "Now that you've put it that way, I'm determined to see for myself."
Ayan did not persist.
He took out his needle case from his sleeve and pricked Shen Qingyu's chest and abdomen acupoints.
Finally, they cut a small, bloody gash on his wrist.
The strange incense smell in the incense burner grew stronger and stronger.
Fresh blood seeped from the wound.
Shen Qingyu suddenly raised an eyebrow.
Then a thin, thread-like worm crawled out from his wrist.
What's this!
Everyone present was so shocked that their hair stood on end.
Shen Qingyu held the blood-stained worm in her hand and examined it closely with great interest.
I don't know if the insect was originally red, or if it turned red after sucking my blood.
Ayan bandaged his wrist.
After gathering the medical instruments on the table, he said, "Alright. Young master, rest well for the next two days, and you'll be fine soon."
Shen Qingyu: "What kind of illness do I have?"
Ayan: "You've been poisoned with a Gu worm."
What? Gu worms?
Shen Qingyu's expression remained unchanged, but the servant beside her turned completely pale.
Everyone knows that serving this Lord carries the greatest risk.
If anything happens, everyone will be buried with them.
Who on earth is so bold as to provoke this madman!
…
Shen Qingyu: "Your medical skills are indeed superb. Perhaps you gave me this worm."
Ayan said calmly, "Who knows? Maybe."
She turned to leave, not caring what others thought.
Shen Qingyu jumped up and stopped her.
Smiling.
"I know it wasn't you, it was her. You are Lord Qin's beloved, and I've only seen you once from afar. How could you possibly harm me?"
He said a string of words, but Ayan only heard one sentence.
"who is she?"
Shen Qingyu was right about one thing.
This gu insect was indeed a small creature she kept in the gu room.
Before meeting Shen Qingyu today, she had no idea that someone could sneak into her Gu room without being noticed.
That's quite an achievement.
Shen Qingyu smiled.
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you saved me, and I want to repay you."
He was speaking while still holding the bloodworm in his hand.
"How about this? I vaguely heard Qingyintai singing 'The Moon Worship Pavilion' just now. How about I sing a song for you too? I sing much better than them."
Ayan shook her head.
"Thank you. But I don't like listening to opera; it's too noisy and makes my chest feel uncomfortable."
Shen Qingyu: "Then what do you want to do? You're my savior, you can take my life or not."
When he stares at people with his alluring fox-like eyes and speaks sweet words that seem both real and unreal, almost no one can resist his seduction.
Ayan: "How about this? I heard the chrysanthemums in Song Garden are blooming beautifully, but unfortunately the owner hasn't opened the chrysanthemum garden today. Could you take me to see them?"
“Of course,” Shen Qingyu replied.
While speaking, he unconsciously tightened his fingers and crushed the insect to death.
A bloody, mangled mass hung between his fingers; he glanced at it for a moment.
He said, "Does this mean I killed my own flesh and blood?"
The flower hall was quiet.
No one answered his question.
These boring people.
He wiped his fingers clean with a servant's clothes and said with a smile, "Come on, Miss Ayan. I'll show you the way."
.
The Song family is wealthy and powerful.
Even the windows in the library were made of green glass from the Western Regions.
Pale golden sunlight streamed through the window.
A faint woody scent permeated the library.
Song Liulang raised his hand and looked inside; the bookshelves stretched as far as the eye could see.
"Master, please."
He was sent by his elders to bring Zen Master Daoci to the library to view the several translated and annotated scriptures that were said to have been written by the second patriarch of Zen Buddhism.
These books were placed in this library as treasures, symbolizing status and wealth.
In fact, let alone Song Liulang himself, even the patriarch of the Song family might not bother to look through these old relics.
But antiques, antiques.
When it comes time to use it, it will naturally have its value.
As Song Liulang walked inside, he told Daoci about the relationship between his ancestors and Zen Buddhism.
It's nothing more than that one of my great-uncles once saw through the illusions of the world and became a monk.
He also practiced Buddhism at Huatan Temple back then.
This wasn't something to be proud of back then, but now it's something to talk about.
The white-robed monk was a bit taller than him.
He walked with a leisurely pace, occasionally nodding in response.
Although he seems aloof and unapproachable, he's actually much easier to talk to than my grandfather.
The Song family's library has three floors.
There are people specifically assigned to clean and manage it on weekdays.
Song Liulang had already sent someone to instruct the librarian to bring out those Sanskrit scriptures.
After waiting for a while, no one came to hand over the book.
What happened?
He frowned, about to lash out, when he suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from the middle of the bookshelf.
A maidservant stepped out from behind the bookshelf.
Holding a few books in his hands, he walked towards them with his head down.
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