Chapter 8 This is a Deadly Problem
Mingshu sat on the couch, staring blankly at Si Chu who was tending to her wounds.
The old imperial doctor had already been exceedingly careful, yet Si Chu frowned, his face cold, neither his nose nor eyes appearing as they should, looking like a ferocious ghost who would drag someone out to be beheaded the next moment.
Poor old imperial doctor's hand neither advancing nor retreating, trembling in mid-air. At his age, he still had to endure such suffering.
After a long wait without any action, Si Chu glanced over with a cool gaze, "Is this the level of skill at the Imperial Medical Bureau? Is the Emperor keeping you all because he has too much money to burn?"
Already nervous, the old imperial doctor went weak at the knees, cold sweat on his forehead, and knelt with a "thump," quickly knocking his head on the ground, "Emperor, please calm your anger, your servant deserves to die a thousand times over!"
A vein throbbed at his temple, and Si Chu, impatient, knit his brows and was about to call out, "Someone..." Get this idiot out of my sight!
At his words, the old imperial doctor straightened his neck, like a dumb goose, the kind that has lost all will to live.
It's over, it's over. He had barely made it to this year's retirement, ready to return to his hometown, but now it seemed he would not make it out alive.
Mingshu sighed and stood up to walk over.
Hearing movement, Si Chu gave her an annoyed glance, "Didn't I tell you to sit down? What are you doing here?"
Mingshu glanced at the old imperial doctor and said with a smile in her eyes, "I've been watching from over there for a while and it seems pretty simple to do. I'm getting a bit eager, why doesn't the Emperor let me have a try?"
The old imperial doctor, as if pardoned from death, nearly knelt to thank Mingshu then and there.
Si Chu looked at her, his expression cold, and snorted, "Are you practicing on me here?"
The old imperial doctor felt a cold sweat slide down his forehead, grief welling up within him: the Tyrant was angered, and even the Noble Consort might suffer for it.
But Mingshu was not intimidated. She gazed at him with earnest, dark eyes, tugged at his sleeve, and cooed softly, "Emperor, just let me try~"
The old imperial doctor's shoulders shook slightly. The last person who dared speak to the Emperor in such a tone had their tongue cut out on the spot.
Poor Noble Consort...
He felt a surge of pity for her.
Si Chu stiffened, feeling heat around his ears.
He pursed his lips, looking at her, thinking had he been too indulgent? Was that why she was pushing her luck over and over?
Did she really think he would always indulge her?
What a joke!
With a stern face, Si Chu threatened sharply, "If you don't do it well, I will chop off your head..."
"I knew the Emperor was the best!" Mingshu said with a suppressed smile, sitting next to him and happily swaying his uninjured arm back and forth, "I'll be gentle, I promise I won't hurt the Emperor!"
A soft touch came from his arm, her warm breath by his ear.
Si Chu's spine tingled, his ears turning completely red, and he dared not move, glaring at her annoyed: How could this woman not have a shred of modesty?!
The old imperial doctor watched this scene in shock.
Good heavens!
Had their fearsome, ill-tempered Tyrant changed his ways?!!
Was he actually letting a woman get so close to him without going mad???
Was he blind?
The next moment, Si Chu's dark gaze swept over, "Why are you still here? Shall I invite you out?"
The old imperial doctor: "..."
Right, it's still the same Great Demon King.
Scrambling up, he moved with a nimbleness that belied his age, "Your servant... your servant will take his leave! Immediately!"
Having said that, he grabbed his box and ran off like the wind.
Mingshu watched, slightly astonished, and shook her head with a sigh, "Actually, the Emperor can sometimes be more pleasant."
The next second, her chin was pinched, and a sinister voice pressed against her face, "Do you think I'm cruel?"
Well, this was a question that courted death.