Que Siming, just as rumors and Su Yin had said, was a man of exceptional martial prowess and unparalleled medical skills, yet notoriously difficult to get along with.
The pale mask covering the upper half of his face was enough to keep people at bay, and his cold and harsh demeanor, akin to a hunter's, only added to his unapproachability. Any slight displeasure might lead to verbal jabs or, worse, physical harm.
When Xiao Bao first saw him, the chilling glare from behind the mask's holes made him shiver.
Que Siming was wrapped in a black robe, tall and slender with broad shoulders and narrow waist, and notably attractive. His hair was slightly curled and held back by a hairpin, the dark strands mostly draped over his shoulders. Besides the pristine white mask on his face, he also wore white gloves, concealing most of his face but leaving visible his straight nose, elegant jawline, and thin lips—undeniably handsome features.
Despite their exhaustion from days of travel, Su Yin promptly took care of some immediate responsibilities upon alighting the coach, then led Xiao Bao to the mansion's inner hall.
Upon opening the door, they found the man, clad only in black and white, leisurely drinking tea with his legs propped on the coffee table.
Su Yin nodded in approval. "Good, you're here sooner than I expected."
Que Siming looked up at Su Yin, twisted his neck slightly, glanced at Xiao Bao, and subtly pursed his lips—a gesture that unexpectedly tightened Xiao Bao's throat with nervousness.
"I owe you, and I've said I'd pay it back. I wouldn't break my promise," Que Siming spoke, his voice hoarse yet oddly captivating. He sprang to his feet so swiftly that before the others could react, he was merely two feet away, mysteriously holding a small gourd.
Su Yin reached for it, angrily declaring, "I'll handle it..."
Before he could finish, Que Siming spun upwards, opening the gourd as he positioned himself above their heads. Xiao Bao, using only his peripheral vision, saw him vigorously shake his sleeves, spraying them with a mist of water, leaving Xiao Bao momentarily stunned.
A pungent smell quickly filled the air. Su Yin, wiping his face, scolded, "I said I'd do it. We were about to bathe anyway; does staying a moment longer threaten your life?"
Que Siming glared at him. "You've traveled from Jiangnan, passing through the epidemic region in Qianzhong, carrying who knows how much filth. And you raise your voice at me? Why not bathe before you came? Get out of my sight, and don't come back until you've scrubbed off a layer of skin."
Su Yin cursed again, pulling Xiao Bao away while Xiao Bao remained in a petrified state.
The two quickly bathed, and after emerging, Que Siming circled around them three times, scrutinizing and sniffing like they were cabbages in a market, before finally settling down.
When it was time to check Xiao Bao's pulse, Que Siming meticulously cleaned his wrist with the medicine before—still gloved and with a condescending air—placing his fingertips on Xiao Bao's pulse.
After a long moment, he nodded, "Not bad, it's indeed cold poison. Cold poison has been absent from the martial world for a long time; this is the first case I've encountered. Take off your clothes."
Xiao Bao let out a gasp.
From behind the mask's eyeholes, Que Siming commanded, "Take off your clothes."
Trembling, Xiao Bao quickly stripped and lay obediently on the bed, feeling exposed and vulnerable, like a fish on a chopping board—both embarrassed and uncomfortable.
Que Siming then applied the medicine to major joints like shoulders, elbows, hips, and knees. As the weather was growing colder, Xiao Bao's joints ached faintly, a pain that even thick cotton clothes could barely alleviate in autumn. Now, lying bare, he felt even more exposed and pained.
Impatient, Su Yin frowned and asked, "Are you done yet?"
Without reacting to the provocation, Que Siming carefully removed his gloves and touched the shoulder joint...
"Ah—" Xiao Bao screamed, startling Su Yin, who quickly swatted Que Siming's hand away, "What happened?"
Sweat beaded on Xiao Bao's forehead, the pain as sharp and cold as a needle piercing his flesh, leaving his shoulder numb and immovable.
Fortunately, the intense pain faded as soon as the hand withdrew.
Que Siming pondered, looking at his fingers, between which a gold needle appeared, exuding a faint white mist that was almost imperceptible and quickly dissipated into the air.
Blowing gently on the needle tip, Que Siming remarked nonchalantly, "Forgot to warn you, it hurts."
Su Yin grabbed Que Siming's shoulder forcefully, his voice cold, "Take this seriously!" Even Xiao Bao could hear the crunch of bones, but Que Siming just slowly turned his head, pressing the needle's tip against Su Yin's hand, "Dirty, remove it."
Su Yin withdrew his hand, "What did you diagnose, talk."
Ignoring him, Que Siming turned to Xiao Bao, "Did all your joints receive needles?"
Xiao Bao, pulling the blanket over himself and his face hidden in the shadows of the canopy, whispered almost inaudibly.
"Now that it's deep autumn and quite cold, the pain should have killed you by now. Do you know why it hasn't acted up yet?"
Xiao Bao shivered, hesitating, "I've been wearing a lot lately…" Que Siming smirked dismissively, "Wrapping yourself in ten tiger skins wouldn't help. The cold poison is waiting for rain. It has a latent period after being embedded in your body; the first rain after Mid-Autumn is the trigger. Once that rain comes, the cold poison will fully activate. The person who applied the needles chose the perfect timing."
Xiao Bao clutched the blanket tightly, instinctively curling into the shadows, while Su Yin soothingly held his hand, the warmth and strength from his palm helping Xiao Bao relax somewhat.
"However, encountering me before that rain is also the best timing," Que Siming said with an arrogant tone, as if he had everything under control.
Impatient, Su Yin pressed, "Do you have a way to cure it? Enough with the chatter."
Que Siming nodded, then shook his head, "I know how to cure it, but whether it will work depends on your abilities." He emphasized the word "your" pointedly.
"What do you mean?"
"Before the cold poison fully activates, it can be partially suppressed, especially before the first outbreak. But to completely prevent it from activating, you would need to make it so there are no winters and no rain all year. In addition to maintaining the surrounding temperature during an outbreak, internal energy can be used to accelerate the circulation of qi and blood in the joints to alleviate some of the pain and shorten the duration of pain. However, these measures are merely a drop in the bucket. After all, a person only has two hands and you have seventy-eight joints. In short...
after Mid-Autumn, you must stay indoors, keep the house extremely warm until the weather warms up the following summer. I will teach you several methods to alleviate the pain, but prepare yourself mentally; they won't be very effective, and you'll be in agony."
Both men fell silent for a moment, Su Yin's grip on Xiao Bao's hand suddenly tightened, but Xiao Bao did not tense up. Instead, he felt that enduring such pain kept him alert and not easily overwhelmed by weakness.
Since regaining his freedom, he had sworn to forget the past and live well.
Betrayal, deceit, and hurt had tormented him constantly, but he had survived out of necessity. To live meant to bear responsibilities, and if he did not move forward, there would be no path to retreat to. He had his parents, his sister, his brother-like friends Su Yin and Zhao Cai Jin Bao; so many depended on him. He did not have the luxury to falter, even in the throes of severe pain. He had to live well for those who cared about him, not succumb to the despair over someone who had betrayed him.
Though he was terrified, preferring death over enduring the excruciating pain of the cold poison, he still had to live and endure.
Su Yin placed his other hand over Xiao Bao's eyes, feeling a slight moisture. Xiao Bao had promised never to cry again, so he did not look, nor did he let others see.
"Let's set that aside for now. Tell us how to cure the cold poison."
While meticulously wiping a gold needle with a pristine white cloth, Que Siming offhandedly said, "Seven stalks of Crimson Devil's Blossom, from the Great Dalu Flame."