Physician Hong sat alone in his spacious study, surrounded by herbs. He poked and prodded at herbs with his silver needles, deep in concentration, studying. Suddenly, a faint scent different from herbs and pills filled the air. "Two days without a bath?" he grumbled, narrowing his eyes. A pulse of his cultivation base rippled out, and his senses swept through the entire Physician Hall.
Quickly understanding everything, he sighed. "This girl is too fierce." He resumed working on his studies, ignoring Ming Mei's antics for the night.
Meanwhile, Ming Mei sat calmly, sipping tea as the room was tidied up. Lu Zhan's subordinates had been tossed out, leaving only Lu Zhan suspended from the roof beam. Thus far, no questions had been asked, no interrogation whatsoever, as if he were invisible or saving him for last.
His arms remained devoid of pain, numbed by the needles that had assaulted him. Yet, within, panic surged through him, his mind ablaze with turmoil. These physicians were evil. He had witnessed them draw blood, pierce his subordinates with large needles, extract clear liquid from their spines, and administer various herbs, muttering about their effects and toxicity.
Alone in the room with Ming Mei, Lu Zhan felt utterly insignificant. Her every glance bypassed him, as if he was nothing more than a speck of dust. Desperation eating him. His face and mouth were still numb, his thoughts trapped inside.
He wanted to scream out. What did they want? Why was he a prisoner? If they want information, let the torture begin! He'd spill every secret, bare his soul, if only they'd acknowledge him, grant him a voice.
Despite his inner rage, and his inner will to lash out, Lu Zhan couldn't even muster the slightest sound or expression to show how he felt. While not a genius, he took pride in his accomplishments, earning admiration and praise from those around him. In his own world, he felt valued and important. But in this room, he felt utterly worthless, a feeling he'd never experienced before. Not even in the presence of Lu Jing, whom he deeply respected, had he felt so insignificant.
As sensation gradually returned to his face and arms, Lu Zhan felt a flicker of hope ignited within him. He tried to summon his strength, but to his dismay, he realized that sensation didn't necessarily equate to power. Despite feeling every sensation, he found himself unable to exert any force. With each unsuccessful attempt, his hope faded, leaving him feeling even more powerless and trapped.
However, that was not the end of it. As sensation returned back into his limbs, so too did the slow creep of pain. It crawled slowly but surely through his arms, shoulders, and neck, each movement intensifying the discomfort. He looked at Ming Mei, who remained indifferent, lost in her tea-drinking trance, Lu Zhan felt a surge of frustration and despair. She seemed utterly unconcerned, he still held no significance whatsoever.
With each breath he drew, the pain escalated, relentless in its slow but steady advance. Despite his attempts to remain composed, he found himself trapped by it, his mind reeling with the overwhelming sensation of despair.
In the grip of ever-increasing agonizing pain, Lu Zhan is desperate to release a primal scream, to let out the torment that is tightening his life. Yet, even that basic release was not possible. Sweat poured down his brow, his breaths ragged and uneven, as he strained against the relentless increase of agony. Finally, through sheer force of will, he managed to emit a low whimper.
Ming Mei, momentarily interrupted from her tea-drinking trance, paused at the sound. For a fleeting moment, hope flickered within Lu Zhan's eyes. But his optimism was short-lived as Ming Mei calmly refilled her cup to the brim, indifferent to his suffering. The realization hit Lu Zhan like a hammer blow, crushing his hopes and leaving him to confront the pain alone, with no escape in sight.
Lu Zhan's mind became a battleground of self-condemnation. He berated himself for his arrogance, for daring to think he could outmaneuver a member of the core family like Lu Sheng. How naive he had been to revel in what he thought was his advantage, blinded by his own pride.
He cursed his luck, cursing the cruel twists of fate that had brought him to this cruel moment. Lu Jing became the target of his resentment, blaming him for his current punishment. He cursed his own greed, recognizing it as the root cause of this torment. In his despair, he pleaded for anyone to hear him, but his cries went unanswered, leaving him to endure his suffering alone.
Lu Zhan's agony had reached such a new peak that his sweat now dripped from his dangling toes, forming small puddles on the floor below. Despite his best efforts, only low whimpers managed to escape his lips, each one louder with his suffering.
Finally, Ming Mei broke her silence with a disdainful sigh. "What a weakling you are," she remarked, her tone dripping with contempt. "Can't even endure for a simple cup of tea?" With a dismissive gesture, she set down her cup and rose from her chair, looking at Lu Zhan.
His face contorted with pain, veins bulging as his eyes pleaded for mercy. Yet, all that escaped his lips were feeble whimpers, each one a desperate plea for relief from the torment.
"What is it that you wish to say?" Ming Mei inquired, her tone sharp with anticipation. "Do you seek to confess that it was Lu Jing who sent you?"
Lu Zhan tried to nod vigorously, but his body refused to cooperate. However, the desperation in his eyes communicated his confession more clearly than any words could.
Before he could fully grasp the implications of his admission, Ming Mei dropped a bombshell. "But I already knew," she declared.
Lu Zhan's mind shook with disbelief and fear at Ming Mei's revelation. If she had known all along, then why subject him to this torment? A realization struck him like a thunderbolt, shattering any hope he had about his safety.
A deep sense of dread enveloped him as he contemplated the sinister nature of these physicians. The chilling calmness with which Ming Mei sipped her tea while he got tormented in front of her. In that moment, he saw her not as a mere woman, but as a demoness, reveling in his suffering with cold indifference.