Chapter 267

Chapter 267

"What?!" The conclusion given by the imperial physician was truly shocking.

How could there possibly be no issue?!

Consort Ping was completely well before taking the medicine—these symptoms appeared only after she drank it. And those two palace maids behaved so strangely—how could there not be a problem?!

At this moment, Consort Ping’s personal maid, who had stepped forward to struggle to maintain order while her mistress was temporarily unable to take charge, was doing her best to keep everyone calm.

She had thought that once the physician arrived, the matter would be resolved. Yet after examining Consort Ping and inspecting her for so long, the physician’s final conclusion was that there was nothing wrong with the medicine.

How could this be believed?

Unconvinced, the maid repeated, "Physician, perhaps you could examine her again more carefully? Perhaps something was missed..." Maybe it had been too rushed earlier, and the physician hadn’t inspected thoroughly enough.

Before she could finish, the physician’s expression turned stern, as if insulted by the doubt. "The examination was conducted very carefully just now. The prescription and the dregs both appear normal."

Though clearly annoyed, he still dutifully explained,

"Consort Ping’s previous doses of medicine were ineffective, so the imperial physician increased the dosage and adjusted the formula. The new formula is more potent, which may cause slight discomfort after consumption."

Though the physician mentioned that the previous doses were "ineffective," implying the earlier medicine didn’t work, there was an underlying implication in his words.

As for why the medicine was "ineffective," everyone understood the implication.

Just as the maid was about to argue that the medicine had worsened Consort Ping’s condition—how could that be acceptable? Surely there was a problem—the physician continued unhurriedly, as if stating the most natural thing, "But such a reaction is normal. She will recover quickly afterward."

Meanwhile, Consort Ping tossed and turned, her eyes tightly shut, contorted in pain.

Her face bore obvious signs of suffering. The palace maids had just changed her sleeping robes, yet they were already soaked with sweat once more.

Even in her unconscious state, she clearly seemed unwell.

And yet, the physician insisted the medicine was fine? That the "slight discomfort"—a dubious claim—was normal??

When the two maids who delivered the medicine had said the same thing earlier, it sounded like an excuse. But now, even the physician was saying it.

Was this... truly normal??

The maid glanced between Consort Ping and the physician, her voice shaking, "B-but she’s in such a state now—what should we do? Physician, please do something!"

Clearly, she was panicking over the situation.

They needed Consort Ping to wake up and take charge as soon as possible.

Yet the physician said, "Giving more now would be unwise, as it may interfere with the medicine’s effects and worsen the situation."

The maid was stunned. Was the physician suggesting they just let her endure this?!

Too shocked to hold back, she blurted out, "You can’t be serious!"

This outright disbelief offended the physician, whose expression grew even sterner. "If you doubt my judgment, you may summon other physicians to confirm whether this is indeed the case."

His meaning was clear—if they didn’t trust his expertise, they were free to call in others to verify the truth.

The maid who had spoken out of turn now paled, realizing her words had offended the imperial physician, while Her Ladyship remained unconscious.

The maid knew Consort Ping had been giving the physicians a hard time, so no wonder they might now be reluctant to give their full effort.

With Consort Ping's condition worsening, if anything were to happen to her, the maid’s own neck would be on the line.

So without further hesitation, she decided to send for additional imperial physicians—surely someone among them would know what to do.

The most pressing matter was reviving Consort Ping as quickly as possible.

Then, remembering something, she ordered a junior maid to stand guard while she hurried off in a different direction—not the same way the others had gone to fetch more physicians.

Tension thickened around Consort Ping's quarters. The ranking authority figure was unconscious, and even the chief maid had rushed away, leaving only nervous underlings to maintain order—too panicked to be effective.

Even if they managed to maintain decorum to prevent incidents, it was only a temporary measure.

The physician was still present, but all he could do was advise the attendants to change Consort Ping’s damp sleeping robes frequently and ensure she wasn’t left in sweat-soaked clothes. Beyond that, he stood pensively, brush in hand, feigning contemplation—as if pondering a solution.

In truth, the physician was deeply troubled himself.

When he had hurried over earlier, he had assumed Consort Ping was engaged in her usual theatrics again.

But the frantic demeanor of the palace maids left no doubt that something was truly wrong.

Upon taking her pulse, he couldn’t help but feel a jolt of alarm—this time, Consort Ping was genuinely ill.

Before, her condition had worsened only because she stubbornly refused treatment. Now, she had taken the medicine, yet according to her pulse, the prescription wasn't fundamentally wrong.

The prescription addressed her symptoms.

However, even if the same herbs were used for both children and adults, the dosages differed significantly.

The art of medicine was far more subtle.

What worked for one patient might require additions, omissions, or substitutions for another.

Otherwise, while an adult might tolerate it, the same medicine could overpower a child's constitution.

Previously, the physician had prepared a gentler decoction for Consort Ping, tailored to her constitution.

Had she taken it as directed for a few days, she would have been nearly recovered, if not entirely well.

But Consort Ping had stubbornly refused treatment, and her condition had deteriorated—something the physicians had noticed but couldn’t remedy.

If the patient refused to cooperate, even Hua Tuo himself would be helpless.

Yet now…

While checking her pulse, the physician detected something amiss, though his expression remained unreadable.

It was difficult to discern anything from his stern, composed face.

In truth, serving as a palace physician demanded political savvy as much as medical skill.

Medical skill alone doesn't guarantee job security in the Imperial Medical Office.

The imperial physician noticed something off during the pulse reading, and after hearing the words of Consort Ping's maidservant, realized there was more to this—though this alone wasn’t enough to make a judgment.

Thus, he kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, he carefully examined the medicine residue left in the empty bowl, as well as the herb remnants that had been brought over.

The imperial physician had indeed revised the previous prescription into a new one, swapping just two herbs while making minor adjustments to the quantities of the others to balance the properties of the added ingredients.

This modified prescription could speed up recovery for someone who drank it.

Had Consort Ping actually taken her medicine as prescribed, this new formula would have helped her recover faster.

Yet, she hadn’t followed the regimen properly—not only failing to improve but even worsening her condition. Without the gentle effects of the previous medicine as a foundation, this new prescription now hit her system hard.

Compared to the milder formula before, this was like going from zero to sixty—something the patient might not endure well.

Especially someone like her.

"Discomfort" was putting it mildly.

Though the ordeal would be harsh, overcoming it would indeed lead to rapid recovery.

But a pampered noblewoman like her might struggle to bear it.

The imperial physician couldn’t have been unaware of this—yet they still adjusted the prescription this way.

Only then did the physician figure out his next move.