86 Blood Transfusion
"Are you crazy?!"
last night?
Ying Jianhua subconsciously pursed her lips and clenched her empty palms.
She found out after all.
Now that things had come to this, he no longer wanted to hide it and reluctantly admitted, "...Last night, I went to see Lu Ping."
Upon hearing this, Du Zhijin's pupils contracted sharply, as if he had been suddenly doused with a bucket of cold water, his gaze filled with disbelief.
Even though she already knew the truth, hearing him admit it himself still felt unbelievable.
“You…” Her throat tightened, her gaze fixed on Ying Jianhua’s face, trying to find even the slightest trace of a joke or something else.
It felt like something had struck his chest hard; a dull pain spread through his bones, even numbing his fingertips. He awkwardly turned his face away, unable to meet her gaze.
He hated himself so much, hated himself for making her sad.
After a long pause, Du Zhijin composed himself and asked wearily, "Why? Why did you...kill him? Was there some reason?"
Look, even now, she still believes in him, thinking that he must have had his reasons for doing so.
A tiny spark suddenly ignited from the ashes that had been dead. He took a trembling breath, slightly raising his eyes to look at her, his eyes glistening with tears.
Humble and devout, like a believer yearning for a divine response.
He laid bare his heart to her, inch by inch, pulling out all the unbearable memories of the past and exposing the rotten cotton wool to the sun.
It wasn't until the moment of truth that Ying Jianhua realized he wasn't as fragile as he had imagined, and that it was so simple to put everything into words.
"...I lied to you. The deaths of Prince Chengduan and the Crown Prince were all my doing. I faked a fire and fled, and Lu Ping was in charge of investigating the case. A few days ago, I saw him on the street and was worried that he would say something he shouldn't have if you ran into him, so I decided to kill him."
Once the words were spoken, it was like a sword hanging over his head finally falling. He slowly closed his eyes, quietly awaiting the outcome.
In just a few words, a short sentence, a case spanning a decade is implied.
Upon hearing this, Du Zhijin's first reaction was not that Ying Jianhua had murderous intentions towards Lu Ping, but that he had actually kept it from her.
From Jinxi City to Liulijing, he kept it a secret from her for a very long time.
After calming himself down a bit, he continued, "I... am a cowardly person. I'm afraid that after Lu Ping exposes you, you will leave me."
"How could I leave you?" She was unusually emotional, and her eyes gradually reddened. As she spoke, she reached out to grab his wrist, her fingers trembling slightly from the force.
Her hand holding the sword never trembled.
"You don't believe me."
The four heavy, sorrowful, and disappointed words fell, instantly sentencing him to death.
His heart ached as if it were being pricked by needles. He wanted to defend himself, to say that he loved and believed in her, but he couldn't utter a single word.
Perhaps the ending has never changed.
Watching him sit there motionless, the light in her eyes slowly dimmed until it was completely extinguished.
They let go of his hand, as if the person holding the kite had let go of the string.
"...Lu Ping is not dead. I will find someone to save him. When he wakes up, you should apologize to him in person."
Finally, after saying those words, Du Zhijin turned and left without looking back.
He didn't even look back.
Ying Jianhua stood there, stunned. The midday sun shone on him, but he felt cold, a bone-chilling cold.
————
Liulijing is vast, and finding a reliable doctor within it is no easy task. Du Zhijin offered a hefty sum to secure the services of a highly respected senior physician.
After the doctor finished taking her pulse, she hurriedly asked, "How is he? Is there any hope?"
The doctor shook his head: "His mouth and nose are blocked, his limbs are cold, and his pulse is weak and almost imperceptible. It's difficult to save him."
Listening to his description of the symptoms, Du Zhijin's heart sank. She glanced at the person who remained unconscious on the bed, and for the first time, she knew what it meant to be completely helpless.
Ultimately, this whole affair started because of her, and she couldn't just stand by and watch someone die.
"Is there really no other way?"
Clinging to her last glimmer of hope, she asked.
Upon hearing this, the doctor hesitated, as if he was carefully considering his words. Du Zhijin noticed his hesitation and quickly said, "Please speak freely. What medicine or prescription do you need? I will do my best to make it."
He waved his hand: "No. I just remembered something I heard before, but the remedy has not been verified, so I'm afraid it would be of no use to say it."
She insisted, "Please tell me. I'm willing to try anything to save lives."
Seeing that she was determined, the doctor had no choice but to reveal: "The patient has many injuries, both internal and external, but the most fatal is the internal injury. Forgive my poor eyesight, but I cannot see what caused the internal injury and therefore cannot prescribe the right medicine. However, if the remaining toxins in the body are expelled along with the blood and replaced with fresh blood, there may be a glimmer of hope for her."
"A blood transfusion?" Du Zhijin was stunned for a moment, then rolled up her sleeves and asked, "Do you think my blood is suitable?"
The doctor sighed, "It's not that easy. Not just anyone's blood will do. Only 'Shennong's blood' can save people. But that's just hearsay. I've lived for decades and have never seen any 'Shennong's blood.' I'm afraid only the gods in heaven have this kind of blood."
“Shennong’s blood…” She frowned in thought, and after confirming that she had no recollection of it, she asked again, “Then how can I determine if my blood is Shennong’s blood?”
The doctor shook his head again: "I don't know either."
Her only hope was extinguished once again. Du Zhijin remained silent for a moment. After seeing the doctor off, night had fallen, and she suddenly realized that she hadn't eaten all day.
Fortunately, she practiced fasting and didn't need any food. As for him...
Thinking of Ying Jianhua's lonely figure, she lowered her eyes helplessly, forcing herself not to think about it.
However, to her surprise, she was already at the door.
Looking at the figure standing in front of the inn, Du Zhijin thought he was just hallucinating from overthinking.
But would there be such heavy tear stains on the face in a hallucination?
What are you doing here?
She thought her tone was calm and normal enough, but to Ying Jianhua, it was evidence that she had already grown tired of him.
Suppressing the surging bitterness in his heart, he whispered, "My blood is fine."
"What did you say?" Du Zhijin looked dazed. After hallucinating, she was hallucinating again.
He bit his lip hard, his eyes filled with sorrow and fear as he looked at her, but his voice was firm: "Lu Ping needs a blood transfusion, my blood is fine, and I know how to do it."
As soon as he finished speaking, he seemed like a prisoner released from jail, finally finding a place to stand. Du Zhijin hadn't come to her senses yet, and subconsciously followed him inside, until she saw him raise a dagger, at which point she suddenly snapped out of her daze: "Are you crazy?!"
The sharp tip of the knife was aimed at the wrist, just a hair's breadth away from slicing through the fair skin. The blade gleamed, reflecting Ying Jianhua's pale face.
She gripped his hand, preventing the blade from falling. He, however, craved this moment of touch, wishing she could stop him every time he raised his knife.
He felt like he was going crazy after just one whole day without seeing her. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he lost her completely.
Will I become a breathing corpse? Or will I become a demon possessed by evil spirits?
Zhouzhou, Zhouzhou.
He pleaded and cried out in his heart a thousand times over.
Don't abandon me, please don't forsake me...
He suppressed his inner madness and tried to appear as a "human being" who still retained some sense.
"I can save him."
Du Zhijin frowned.
She believed in his medical skills, but the old doctor said that blood transfusions saving lives were just a legend, and their veracity was still unknown. If something went wrong during the blood transfusion, not only would Lu Ping not be saved, but he too...
Before she could refuse, Ying Jianhua had already cut her wrist with a dagger, dipped a drop of the dagger in, and put it on Lu Ping's lips.
The blood droplet entered her mouth, and her tightly closed eyes began to tremble. Perhaps the amount was insufficient, for she returned to calm after a moment.
He stared at her intently, his face filled with intense anticipation and barely perceptible excitement, as if to say, "See, I was right, my blood is useful!"
I am still useful.
The hand inside the sleeve clenched into a fist, then relaxed, finally hanging down wearily, like a fallen leaf that had fallen before it withered.
In the wind and rain, it drifted into the mud.
She turned and left, leaving the room to him and the patient. Before leaving, she paused, but didn't turn back, only gazing at the silent, dark sky outside the window: "I'll be right at the door. Call me if you need anything."
Ying Jian opened her mouth, wanting to persuade her to rest, but the words she wanted to say were carried away by the night wind.
A thousand thoughts, all condensed into one sentence.
"good."
————
This day felt longer than any other. Since the inn wasn't convenient for blood transfusions, Du Zhijin eventually led the person to the courtyard.
This small courtyard, which they called "home" just a day ago.
Ying Jianhua boiled silver needles, daggers, and other items in boiling water. While waiting, he noticed that Du Zhijin was staring at a certain spot.
Following the gaze, his heart ached.
She was looking at those... yin-yang jade pendants.
Fortunately, the night was deep enough to conceal everything—a glance, a sigh, and a tear.
Treating this kind of injury requires a lot of hot water. Du Zhijin spent the whole night fetching and boiling water. Heating with firewood was too slow, so she used her hands to form hand seals and continuously channeled her internal energy.
Even so, the dark red blood slowly gathered at her feet, overflowing the threshold, seeping into the cracks between the bricks, and reaching her eyes. In her daze, she almost thought she was in the hellish illusion of the demonic realm.
She once fought against ten powerful demons, each possessing considerable strength. They battled for three days and three nights before a victor emerged on the fourth day.
Blood flowed like this then too. But shouldn't the painting only depict one person? How can one person's blood be equivalent to that of ten demons?
She couldn't help but glance into the room, and that single glance froze her in place.
Even the windows were stained crimson with blood. His shadow was cast on the windowpane, the blade's tip so sharp, so cold.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and Ying Jianhua was startled, then broke into her first smile of the night: "I did it! Lu Ping, he..."
The words "survive" were on his lips, but he was interrupted by her next action.
Du Zhijin draped his coat over him, her voice soft: "I know. You've been working all night, go to sleep."
His gaze toward her was hazy and weary, as if separated by a deep, boundless expanse of water.
Everything lies beneath the surface. Is it a turbulent undercurrent, or a calm sea?
He gripped the hem of his clothes tightly, just as he had once held her hand.
Will you stay?
She didn't answer, and he could no longer bear it, almost fainting.
When I woke up again, the sky was already beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn.
He was exhausted from yesterday's work, and Jianhua seemed a bit drained. He fell asleep leaning against the table, and as his vision slowly focused, objects gradually came into view.
Then he saw someone facing the window, looking at two wind chimes under the eaves.
My heart skipped a beat.
She... stayed.
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