His face was contorted with rage, and he was seething with hatred inside.
He hated not only Qiao Lian'er, but also these people who fawned over the powerful and bullied the weak. They didn't genuinely care about his hand; they were just afraid their bets would fall through.
They already despised his background, so if he really didn't perform well in the palace examination, they would just laugh at him mercilessly and then turn around and leave.
Thinking of this, Song Ruier felt a surge of fear.
He found a clinic that looked decent, but instead of going in, he asked a passerby for directions.
"Excuse me, how long has this clinic been open?"
"It's been over ten years, and there are several senior doctors working there with excellent medical skills," a passerby said.
More than ten years had passed, and the Qiao family had only been in the capital for a few years, so Song Ruier went in without worry.
An elderly doctor picked up Song Ruier's hand and examined it, a serious expression appearing on his face.
"Young man, your hand seems to be in a bit of a predicament."
“As long as it can be cured, you can name any price,” Song Ruier said.
"Let's not talk about this now, young man, just bear with it."
The old doctor squeezed his wrist, stroked his beard, and made a diagnosis: "The bone is broken, with only 30% remaining connected."
"What? Wasn't it almost healed?" Song Ruier's voice suddenly became louder.
"Young man, when did you get this hand injured?"
"Two weeks ago."
"For the past two weeks, there hasn't been any improvement. You haven't seen a doctor or taken any medicine?"
Song Ruier was at a loss for words.
"And the color of your wrist is really off."
The old doctor inserted a silver needle again, which quickly turned black. He then bled from the wrist and dripped the blood onto dozens of different powders to observe the reactions. Finally, he shook his head.
Then he went and got another strip of powder, which was used to test for rare poisons.
His expression grew increasingly somber, and he sighed helplessly.
"You've been poisoned. As for what kind of poison it is, I'm sorry, I can't test it here, so I can't prescribe the right medicine for you. I'll prescribe some regular medicine to suppress the poison first, and then you can go to another clinic for a checkup."
Song Ruier walked out dejectedly, carrying a bag of medicine.
The old doctor's puzzled voice came from behind: "Strange, in my more than 30 years of medical practice, this is the first time I have encountered such an unidentifiable poison."
Song Ruier knew that, given his current situation, he had no choice but to go to Qiao Lian'er.
No one can save him.
But he hated Qiao Lian'er so much that he wanted to tear her to pieces, so why would he be willing to beg her?
But if that hand is destroyed, he won't have much hope for the rest of his life.
Song Ruier steeled his resolve. So what if it was all an act? He'd been acting all along; at worst, he'd just have to act in front of Qiao Lian'er this time.
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Qiao Lian'er had just come out of the theater when a figure suddenly knelt down in front of her with a "plop".
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