Chapter 3 Typical Acts of Medical Disruption

Oh? Yuan Zaichun raised an eyebrow slightly, a shadow flickering in his eyes.

Qiao Qingyun’s attention no longer lingered on him; she turned, her fingertips brushing the prepared golden needles as she used the cover of her body to subtly coat the tip with the NH42 solution.

“Your Highness, please lie down.” She slipped into her role, inspecting the golden needles while gauging the precise spot and pressure needed, her tone casual, adding, “Remove your upper garments.”

Yuan Zaichun hesitated, then let out a breathless, incredulous laugh. “Even my clothes must come off?”

Had the man Seventh Prince sent not informed her that he disliked women approaching him?

Qiao Qingyun found his attitude almost amusing, casting him an odd glance and clicking her tongue under her breath. “Why so shy? Like a maiden on her wedding night.”

“Fine, then just roll up your sleeve.” She decided to accommodate the prudish sensibilities of ancient men, waving her hand with an air of finality.

Yuan Zaichun, his inner strength profound, heard her clearly. His expression darkened, a cold smile curling at his lips as he pinned her with a hard stare. “Fine,” he said, pausing, then enunciating each word, “You—do—it—for—me.”

Qiao Qingyun couldn’t help but roll her eyes, giving a cold snort.

Trying to scare me? As a healer, she’d seen more than her share of bodies.

She clicked her tongue again, stepping forward impatiently. With brusque hands, she undid his buttons, her voice mocking, “A bit out of practice, Your Highness, don’t mind me. The last time I did this, I was dressing my three-year-old nephew.”

She had to admit, though this prince was insufferable, his physique was indeed impressive.

As she eyed his well-defined abs, she couldn’t resist a second glance, thinking to herself: What fine muscles—perfect for a beginner to practice acupuncture.

“Is it pleasing to the eye? Would you like to look a little longer?” Yuan Zaichun’s cool voice cut through her thoughts.

“Sure…” Qiao Qingyun was about to reply glibly when she looked up and nearly choked at his half-amused, half-challenging gaze. Coughing, she averted her eyes, putting on a righteous air. “It’s just superficial. Do I look like someone so shallow?”

She was, in fact. She sneaked another glance before collecting herself, drawing a golden needle from the deerskin roll, and began locating the acupoints.

“Quchi point, three cun.”

“Hegu point, one point two cun.”

She murmured as she worked, her movements fluid and confident, each needle precisely placed, without hesitation.

In less than the time it took a stick of incense to burn, Yuan Zaichun’s left arm was bristling with golden needles. Still unsatisfied, Qiao Qingyun lightly flicked the ends of the needles, using their vibrations to catalyze the medicine.

Throughout, Yuan Zaichun sat holding a military treatise, his gaze unwavering, his breath steady as if the hand being needled did not even belong to him.

The study fell silent, only their interlaced breathing audible, and a subtle, ambiguous tension began to grow.

The stagnant atmosphere made Qiao Qingyun uneasy. She frowned, cleared her throat, and tried to break the stifling silence.

“Is it done?” Yuan Zaichun lifted his eyelids, asking carelessly.

Such indifference—where was the patient in him?

Qiao Qingyun gritted her teeth, forcing a smile. “The golden needles must remain for a while yet, for the blood to circulate under vibration.”

Be a hedgehog if you like!

“Hm?” For the first time, Yuan Zaichun looked at her directly, his brows drawn, impatience in his eyes. “They must stay? When can they be removed?”

“It’s only been a quarter of an hour—what’s the rush?” Qiao Qingyun mimicked his dour expression, sneering. “When the chickens have finished the grain, the dogs have licked up the flour, and the fire has burned through the lock, the needles can be taken out.”

“Is that so?” Yuan Zaichun stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly rapped the table, his tone chilly. “I dislike waiting. If you pour the grain and flour together, that counts as finished, doesn’t it?”

Beast, she muttered inwardly.

Qiao Qingyun could hear the warning in his words, but she forced a bright smile. “Has Your Highness ever heard the story of marking the boat to seek a sword?”

“Just a joke,” Yuan Zaichun drawled, his gaze sliding away, the last syllable prolonged.

Ha.

As time passed, Yuan Zaichun’s glances grew ever colder. Qiao Qingyun, undisturbed, made him wait half an hour before finally removing the golden needles.

She dared tease him because she was confident. With a faint smile, she gave instructions: “Move your fingers.”

Yuan Zaichun’s expression darkened, a flash of murderous intent in his eyes—quickly replaced by surprise.

His left hand could exert some strength again.

Though it was only a small improvement, far from normal, it was enough to excite him.

Qiao Qingyun watched his reaction, letting out a silent sigh of relief, though she kept her face aloof, feigning the air of a master. “A healer’s heart is benevolent—you need not thank me.”

“Who exactly are you?” Yuan Zaichun pressed his lips together, his hawk-like gaze sharp and probing.

He’d left the residence last night, shadowed by secret guards three miles out. For a woman to find the secret meeting place so silently was nothing short of an affront.

Even now, his shadow guard was scouring for her origins, but she seemed to have appeared from thin air.

Qiao Qingyun, oblivious to the turbulent undercurrents, met his gaze with calm seriousness and replied coolly, “Just call me Lei Feng.”

Inside, she was nearly giddy.

Surprised? The three-year mark has come—Divine Physician returns!

Yuan Zaichun’s fingers tapped the table, his eyes flickering before settling into shadow. His voice was low: “Attend me.”

The steward entered at once, head bowed. Yuan Zaichun’s tone was even, betraying nothing: “Prepare the Bamboo Grove Residence for our honored guest.”

Bamboo Grove Residence?

That was the courtyard closest to the main house! The steward’s eyes widened as he glanced at Qiao Qingyun, his face a mix of shock and suspicion, practically spelling out: “Didn’t expect you to be this kind of person.”

Qiao Qingyun coughed, feigning innocence, blinking guilelessly.

It sounded like a good place—she’d be a fool not to take advantage!

Her goal for the day accomplished, with a new courtyard to explore, she lost interest in teasing the prince further. She waved at Yuan Zaichun and happily followed the steward out.

Yuan Zaichun lowered his head, sipping his tea, his gaze deep as an abyss.

A woman with secret skills and a mysterious identity—how intriguing.

That night, the Prince’s residence was ablaze with lights. Outside the Bamboo Grove Residence, the bamboo rustled as if swept by the wind.

A shadow flitted through the stalks, landing lightly on the rooftop, lifting a tile.

“I can manage myself.”

Qiao Qingyun’s cheerful voice drifted over, followed by the sound of water.

Yuan Zaichun looked toward the sound. Amid the steam rising from hot water, he glimpsed a dewdrop on her shoulder.

Skin like congealed cream, pure as jade.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hastily replaced the tile, and departed in a rush, his figure beneath the night sky uncharacteristically flustered, as if fleeing in defeat.