"The medicine is ready, send it over quickly!"
The imperial doctors gathered around the bed and discussed the prescription in low voices, their faces full of anxiety and fatigue, but they did not dare to make any mistakes.
The cold gaze above their heads made it hard for them to breathe.
Dota sat by the bed, looking at the little man on the bed, his face was as stern as usual, but his tightly pursed thin lips and faintly clenched fists revealed his inner anxiety.
He barely took a step away, and gently placed his big hand on Yuan Zhizhi's burning forehead, and asked the imperial physician in a deep voice,
"When will her fever go away?"
The imperial physician was startled by his voice and quickly replied:
"Your Majesty, the child is young and has a weak immune system. I have used the fastest method to reduce the fever, but it is slow to subside. It will take some time..."
Duota's eyes darkened, and the oppressive feeling made the imperial physician dare not even say a word. He could only lower his head and continue to treat Yuan Zhizhi.
At the same time, Murong Yue was imprisoned, and everyone in the harem had already heard about it.
The news that the king was angry spread widely, but no one knew the specific reason. All they knew was that Murong Yue had angered the king and was in great danger.
The next morning, after hearing the news, the Murong people hurried into the palace to request an audience with Duota.
However, they were left in a side hall and were not summoned for a long time.
Someone tried to ask for instructions, but was coldly rejected by Jin Wan.
"The king is not seeing anyone."
Duota had no intention of paying any attention to the Murong clan.
He has been staying by Yuan Zhizhi's side since last night, without even closing his eyes or eating a single bite of food.
The little person on the bed was still asleep, his face pale as a bloodless stone, but his breathing had finally become a little more stable.
"Your Majesty, why don't you go and rest for a while? Or eat something..." Jin Wan advised in a low voice, his eyes full of worry.
Dota ignored it.
He sat on the edge of the bed, gently holding Yuan Zhizhi's small hand, as if he was afraid that if he used too much force he would hurt her.
The hands were so small that he could almost completely cover them. Through the warmth of her palms, he could feel the heat of her high fever, and his heart felt even heavier.
Fortunately, in the afternoon, Yuan Zhizhi finally showed some movement.
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