He wants to hear more!
Shen Qiyin then played a few more notes before stopping again.
As expected, Wei Heng once again pulled her hand and placed it on the strings.
But this time, Shen Qiyin did not play the zither. Instead, she grasped his wrist as if to tell him: If you want to hear the zither, you must first take his pulse.
Wei Heng stared blankly at her, his face as pale as paper, his lips unusually vibrant from the blood on her hands, making him look like a ghost.
Shen Qiyin focused intently on taking his pulse, but her expression grew increasingly grave.
Upon seeing this, Marquis Wu'an's heart leaped into his throat: "How is it, divine doctor? Can my son's illness still be cured?"
"Tsk!" The Marquis's wife punched him twice more: "Don't disturb the divine doctor!"
A moment later, Shen Qiyin withdrew her hand.
Marquis Wu'an hurriedly asked, "How is it?"
"The young master is not sick, but poisoned."
"Poisoning?!"
"What?!"
Marquis Wu'an and his wife exclaimed in unison, clearly not expecting this situation.
The Marquis's wife said, "To be honest, since Heng'er contracted this madness, countless doctors have come to the manor to treat him, but they all say that Heng'er is stupid and crazy, and no one has mentioned poisoning."
The doctors invited by the Marquis's residence were naturally all renowned physicians.
Shen Qiyin did not discuss the medical skills of others, but only spoke of her own diagnosis: "Judging from the pulse, the young master has taken an excessive amount of Xiaoyao Ju, which has led to his confused thoughts and disordered behavior."
"It is a highly poisonous herb, but if used properly, it has a remarkable pain-relieving effect."
"Previously a thousand..."
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Shen Qi was only halfway through speaking when he saw Marquis Wu'an suddenly cough violently.
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