With Moxun's personal assistance, a decoction to slow the spread of the poison was brewed. Surprisingly, the medicine did not taste bitter but carried a faint, sweet fragrance.
Moxun carried the bowl into the chamber.
Shen Wei lay like a lifeless puppet, struggling to swallow the medicine. Li Yuanjing cradled her in his arms, carefully feeding her the liquid drop by drop.
Moxun sighed and gently informed Li Yuanjing, "If the Noble Consort survives the night, the toxins in her body may be temporarily suppressed. If she does not... the coffins prepared by the Internal Affairs Office will be needed."
Li Yuanjing remained silent.
The spring night was dark, the cold moon and icy stars casting a pallid glow.
The gilded palace lanterns burned, wax dripping onto the candlesticks as the candles slowly dwindled. The bedchamber was eerily quiet, the scent of medicinal herbs wafting from the bronze incense burner. Li Yuanjing sat by the bed, his gaze fixed on Shen Wei's unconscious form.
