It was already getting late outside, and even though Song Xizhi had a plan in mind, he didn't rush to take action.
The next morning, she tidied herself up briefly and went to the residence where the Tibetan prince was staying to treat the holy maiden.
The Tibetan prince had been eagerly awaiting Song Xizhi's arrival. Upon hearing the news from the servants outside, the Tibetan prince felt as if the world had suddenly brightened.
He personally went out of the mansion and personally welcomed Song Xizhi in.
Along the way, he explained to Song Xizhi his series of actions after the Fengshan ceremony.
He first informed his father, the king who was far away in Tibet, about the situation and demanded that the lineage of witch doctors be severely punished. He then communicated and discussed with Emperor Guangqi, and sent a senior imperial physician to Tibet to teach advanced medical techniques.
He did mention sending Song Xizhi to Tibet, but Emperor Guangqi rejected his suggestion outright after he only said half a sentence. So he had to settle for second best.
Then, the Tibetan prince seized the opportunity to deal with the envoy who had opposed him that day and purged the ministers around him.
Song Xizhi was deeply impressed by the Tibetan prince's decisive actions.
She didn't know about other things, but the Tibetan prince was indeed a very responsible father.
His undisguised fatherly love made Song Xizhi feel a little envious.
When the two arrived at the soft couch, Song Xizhi saw the saintess's small body lying on the couch. The large couch was made of animal fur, which looked soft and warm.
However, she was lifeless, her little face pale.
Song Xizhi frowned slightly: "Don't worry, I will do my best to treat her."
Upon hearing Song Xizhi's words, the Tibetan prince finally relaxed.
"Then I'll leave everything to Judge Song."
Song Xizhi nodded, first taking her pulse, then performing acupuncture, and finally prescribing some medicine based on the saintess's condition.
In fact, the Holy Maiden's situation was very similar to He Jingyan's previous situation, both of which were caused by being on the verge of death for too long and not receiving timely rescue.
According to his master, the brain was deprived of oxygen, and he entered a vegetative state.
After Song Xizhi finished administering the acupuncture, he gave her a few more instructions: "Besides administering acupuncture, you can also talk to her from time to time and give her some external stimulation."
"At the same time, you need to turn her over every day, move her body, massage her limbs, and pay attention to cleanliness to avoid bedwetting."
After the Tibetan prince had noted down her words, Song Xizhi remembered her purpose and spoke up again: "Actually, I also have something I'd like to ask you."
Upon hearing this, the Tibetan prince was not only not troubled, but also very happy. He was not afraid that Song Xizhi had any ulterior motives, but he was afraid that she had no other desires.
Although he was a burly, bearded man, he was also perceptive. Seeing Song Xizhi's solemn expression, he immediately dismissed those around him.
Seeing his decisiveness, Song Xizhi felt reassured and revealed his plan: "I would like to ask you to help me put on a play."
Without hesitation, he nodded: "Acting? Sure!"
Song Xizhi's eye twitched involuntarily: "Aren't you going to ask what kind of play it is?"
The Tibetan prince scratched his thick beard: "Actually, I don't know what opera is."
Song Xizhi's eyes twitched even more violently. She roughly described the situation to the Tibetan prince, who frowned, covered his mouth, and nodded repeatedly.
She concluded by saying, "So when Zhao Qingshu came to invite you, my guards and I wanted to follow you and sneak in to see what was going on."
After Song Xizhi finished speaking, he clapped his hands again, and a dark figure appeared outside the window in an instant, and then swiftly and neatly climbed in through the window.
The Tibetan prince stared at the man who had suddenly appeared, silent and still, and he hadn't even sensed the man's presence before.
He stared wide-eyed, scrutinizing the man from head to toe.
Seeing the unremarkable face, the lack of a beard, and the fact that he certainly didn't weigh more than 200 pounds, the Tibetan prince frowned slightly again: "Since you promised to heal the Holy Maiden, I can naturally grant your request."
"But this little guard..."
Song Xizhi turned his head in the direction he was looking and met He Jingyan's gaze.
In order not to reveal his identity, He Jingyan wore a human skin mask when he went out today, and he deliberately chose a very ordinary face.
Seeing the Tibetan prince hesitate for a moment, Song Xizhi was afraid that he had noticed something amiss, and her heart clenched. She frowned and tentatively asked, "What's wrong with my little guard?"
The Tibetan prince crossed his arms and shook his head: "The guards around me are all strong Tibetan warriors, each nine feet tall and weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds. You, a mere guard... are not up to the task!"
As he spoke, he said that for some reason, he suddenly felt a chill in the room.
He shrank his neck, not suspecting anything, and continued, "If I take him out, people will think that Tibet has no one left. It's really embarrassing."
"Guards? I have plenty! How about I send a few to protect you? They're all handsome Tibetan men. The first requirement is that they weigh over 200 pounds, have thick beards, and be strong and muscular. Only men like that can make you feel safe... So, madam, would you like to consider returning to Tibet with me?"
Upon hearing this, Song Xizhi's lips twitched violently.
She felt the indoor temperature getting lower and lower, while the man beside her exuded a chilling aura.
Song Xizhi hurriedly said, "Actually, his height of over eight feet is enough in Da Gan's eyes."
"Although this young guard is a bit plain-looking, taking him out will certainly not make you look bad. On the contrary, it will make you seem approachable and integrated into the Great Gan."
Hearing the woman repeatedly use the words "ordinary" and "small," the man's imposing aura not only didn't dissipate, but instead became even more turbulent.
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