Chu Junyu let out a sigh of relief and spoke.
Seeing Nangong Yehen cough up blood earlier had made his heart ache unbearably. He was genuinely worried that he might cough himself to death. Now, seeing him like this, he understood—his mother was his cure. Not only did he feel relieved, but he also secretly rejoiced. He hoped his father would become dependent on his mother, so that in the future, he would never be able to leave her and would love her to death for the rest of his life.
They walked out of the room. At the doorway, Ouyang Ruobing stood there, stunned, as if turned to wood. Her beautiful face was pale, filled with sorrow, worry, and tension...
Nangong Yehen was ill, with a strange disease like his mother's. Why hadn't she noticed it before? If she had sensed even a hint of his pain back then, she wouldn't have been cruel enough to leave him. The way he looked at Chu Lingzhi was true love. She had no choice but to admit it—when a man is at his most painful, the woman he thinks of is the one he wants to share both joy and hardship with. The fact that he thought of sharing hardship with her already proved that she held an important place in his heart.
"Mom, with Lingzhi here, you don't need to worry about Dad," Nangong Yichen said, unable to bear seeing her like this. He took her hand and comforted her. At the same time, he hoped Ouyang Ruobing would give up on Nangong Yehen—she was no longer suitable for him.
Nangong Yehen refused moxibustion, so Chu Lingzhi had to give him an IV drip. The infusion took a while, so Chu Lingzhi picked up his laptop and searched for information. This cold toxin disease of Nangong Yehen's was so rare that only one in ten million people contracted it. Thus, it wasn't recorded in medical books or online. Even if there were records, they only offered simple treatments that were useless for his symptoms. Back then, even her grandfather had been stumped by that boy's illness, trying one prescription after another, until she finally used her method of fighting poison with poison.
Fighting poison with poison was something she had read in her grandfather's ancient history book. She remembered her grandfather saying that the boy's constitution was different from ordinary people, as if he carried poison. So, while her grandfather was away, she caught a white-headed snake and had it bite him to start her treatment. When her grandfather returned and learned of her method, he praised her endlessly. After examining the little snake, he remarked with emotion that it was lucky she had caught a white-headed snake; if it had been another venomous snake, it might not have counteracted the poison and could have directly killed the patient.
She recalled her grandfather telling her that the snake was called the Himalayan white-headed snake. Now, she was searching online for information about this snake. The Himalayan white-headed snake was extremely venomous, ranking among the top ten most venomous snakes in the world. It was also an ancient and rare species, so it couldn't be bought on the market. To get one, she would have to catch it herself.
Catching it herself made her think of the deep mountains where she had once lived with her grandparents. In the past, Himalayan white-headed snakes had appeared there, and they should still be around now. Whether or not they were, she had to take a chance and go there. The thought of returning to that place made her heart ache fiercely. After the great fire, she had never gone back—it had been eleven years now.
She sat there, lost in thought, for a long time before snapping out of it. She looked up and met Nangong Yehen's deep, dark eyes.
"What are you thinking about?" Nangong Yehen asked.
"..." She didn't answer him, just looked at him with a complicated expression.
Nangong Yehen raised an eyebrow and asked in a low voice, "What are you thinking about?"