Chapter 72: What Illness Does He Really Have?

She cried out in alarm, her panic echoing through the woods. Having learned a bit of martial arts from her father, she reacted swiftly—her legs bracing to either side as she slid, suspending herself horizontally above the pitfall. Her split was flawless. Looking down, she realized it was a trap set for catching prey.

Inside, she saw iron spikes carefully arranged alongside sharpened wooden stakes. At the sight of them, the wounds on her back, which had nearly healed, began to throb with pain once again. Still, she felt relieved. If not for her quick reflexes, a fall into that trap would have left her crippled, if not dead.

At that moment, Qin Youtian rushed over, drawn by her shout. He grabbed her, pulling her up, his voice thick with worry: “Are you all right? What happened? How could you be so careless?”

Hua Qinci glanced at her hand—she had scraped herself during the fall, and a bead of blood had welled at the wound. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“I told you not to come in here, didn’t I? Someone set traps for wild boars. If you don’t know how to read the markings, it’s dangerous to enter.” Qin Youtian took her small hand and, with a gentle motion, brought it to his lips and sucked at the wound.

“It’s nothing. I won’t do it again,” Hua Qinci said, pushing him away. She took the water flask from her basket, uncorked it, and washed her wound clean. Then, she retrieved a medicinal herb she had just gathered—one known to stop bleeding—squeezed out the juice, and spread it over the cut. With a handkerchief, she bound the injury.

“Come here, give me a hand.” It was hard to tie the bandage with one hand, so she called out to Qin Youtian, who had his back turned.

Qin Youtian stared at her, lost in thought. He noticed her blood… Last time, he thought it was merely his imagination.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and help me!” Hua Qinci hadn’t noticed his subtle reaction. Seeing him unmoving, she managed the knot herself with her teeth. “Honestly, you’re so stingy. The way you handled my wound can cause wind fever in seven days. If it’s not treated properly, there could be all kinds of complications, and that’s much more dangerous.”

“What’s wind fever in seven days?” he asked.

“It’s an infection—a kind of illness brought on by an inflamed wound,” Hua Qinci replied, glancing up at Qin Youtian, only to see his face bathed in sweat.

She was baffled. Was he really so frightened by her minor injury? Even if she had fallen to her death, she had no family left—her greedy father had already sold her to the Qian family. There was nothing for him to be so afraid of.

“You know how to treat illnesses?” Qin Youtian asked, eyeing the basket brimming with medicinal leaves. His words felt foolish; Hua Qinci had always been the one tending to Wei Zhen’s family, checking pulses and treating ailments. Yet, it was as if he needed to confirm this for himself.

“Of course. I… I once studied under a renowned physician, an old master who could cure any strange disease.”

When Qin Youtian didn’t reply, Hua Qinci thought he doubted her. Seeing his concern, however, she felt somewhat gratified. Women are like that—even if they don’t desire it, they still want to be the center of attention. In her previous life, she had been such a woman.

“It’s really nothing serious,” she said, clapping his shoulder in a comradely fashion. “Don’t worry. I can handle a scratch like this.”

“Oh,” Qin Youtian replied, as if wanting to say more but thinking better of it.

“Be careful. Go wait for me outside.”

“Alright,” Hua Qinci responded. She picked up her basket and left the woods. At the edge of the grove, she spotted a small bamboo thicket and gathered some bamboo shoots.

These, she thought, fried with a bit of meat, would be fragrant and delicious, a taste one would never forget. By the time she had finished peeling the bamboo shoots, leaving only the tender, white flesh, Qin Youtian finally emerged from the dense forest, looking somewhat despondent. He held two wild rabbits in his hand.

“Let’s go. There wasn’t much game today—just these two rabbits. Tonight, we’ll have roast rabbit.”

“Alright!” Hua Qinci dusted herself off and got ready to leave.

The two of them made their way down the mountain, one after the other. The sky, which had been bright and clear, suddenly unleashed a downpour. The descent became treacherously slippery.

Hua Qinci, unfamiliar with mountain paths, slipped before she realized it. Qin Youtian, quick as lightning, caught her, but in doing so, lost his own footing and tumbled down the slope.

“Qin Youtian!” Hua Qinci called out, rushing after him through the rain. By the time she reached him, he had already lost consciousness.

She called his name several times, but he did not awaken. With no other choice, she found a cliffside cave to shelter from the rain and proceeded to check his pulse.

But as she finished, suspicion clouded her face. Qin Youtian’s pulse was bizarre—at times fierce, at others it ceased entirely, and then it would flutter weakly, as if his heartbeat itself was irregular.

“What illness does he have?” Hua Qinci racked her mind for answers. “Is he poisoned? What kind of toxin could cause such strange symptoms?”