The white-haired Sima Han was brought into the hall. Before he could even pay his respects, the Emperor urged him to quickly examine the Ninth Prince.
The crowd held its breath, gathering around Sima Han and the Ninth Prince.
The Divine Doctor took the prince's pulse, stroking his white beard in contemplation.
The Ninth Prince continued to cry out in pain, groaning softly as cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
Mo Lingwei stood at the head of the officials, a cold, mocking smile playing on his thin lips.
"Your Majesty, the Ninth Prince is not ill. If we must force an explanation for his pain, I'm afraid it's merely indigestion from overeating. With a few needles from this humble commoner, he will be cured in an instant."
As he spoke, Sima Han unrolled the acupuncture kit he carried with him.
When he took out a silver needle, perhaps it was the Ninth Prince's guilty conscience playing tricks on him, but he felt the tip was incredibly sharp.
He swallowed imperceptibly.
