MCSCPM -Chapter 135 Explanation

With that thought, Yin Qingyue finally felt a weight lift from her heart.

She smiled lightly and said, “Your Majesty, my task is complete, so I will return to Xiyang Garden for now.”

“Wait, I still have questions for you,” Nangong Lin said with a smile. Yin Qingyue was clearly different from the imperial physicians—everything she did had its unique method. If she weren’t so capable, his son Nangong Xiao probably wouldn’t defend her so strongly.

“What matters does Your Majesty need me to explain?” Yin Qingyue asked, curious but fully aware that his next words would almost certainly concern the Empress.

“Did you forget so quickly the matter you just agreed to handle?” Nangong Lin’s face held a faint, almost imperceptible smile, yet one that could shift in an instant.

“I was in a hurry to return and study the golden needle acupuncture techniques, so I momentarily forgot this matter,” Yin Qingyue replied calmly, though a chill ran through her mind.

“Then explain this loquat syrup to me,” Nangong Lin said, bypassing questions about the golden needles entirely. This left Yin Qingyue somewhat puzzled at first.

She quickly focused her mind on the Emperor and immediately understood his intent: he wanted to know the purpose of the loquat syrup.

The imperial physicians present pricked up their ears, equally curious. How could such a simple syrup possibly cure the Emperor’s chronic ailment?

“This is not difficult for me to explain,” Yin Qingyue said, her gaze steady as she addressed the Emperor and the physicians.

As the only daughter of a modern medical family, Yin Qingyue knew virtually every medical method that existed in the world, and she was highly skilled in most. Some formulas could not be revealed, lest she arouse suspicion, which would be counterproductive.

“First, loquats are often seen as useless, even discarded as waste. I imagine the Medical Court’s storage must have plenty of them,” she said, glancing at the physicians.

“Divine Physician is correct. There are indeed many loquats stored in the Medical Court, rarely used,” one replied, surprised. Yin Qingyue had not been to the Medical Court often, yet her observation was accurate.

“However, what many do not know is that loquats are excellent medicinal herbs. The reason the Emperor’s chronic illness persisted for so long is largely due to improper use of these materials. Although the palace herbs are top quality, after decades, they had little effect on the Emperor’s body. Earlier, I had already worked on the Emperor’s acupuncture points to expel some of the toxins,” Yin Qingyue explained calmly.

This was similar to modern pathogens: if the same medicine is used repeatedly, the pathogens develop resistance, rendering the treatment ineffective.

“Divine Physician is right. For years, the herbs prescribed by the Medical Court have been mostly the same, with only minor variations,” the physician admitted, astonished. Yin Qingyue’s words were precise and logical, making him realize that his decades of experience were no match for her insight.

“But using only loquats alone cannot cure the Emperor’s chronic illness. Its medicinal value has never been fully utilized. Placing the loquats in hot water was to maximize their effect: the heat cleansed impurities and cooked the peel.”

In modern practice, this would require a boiler, but in the ancient conditions, Yin Qingyue had to adapt. Luckily, the previous acupuncture had already weakened the disease, making the treatment smoother.

“The loquat leaves I had the physicians fetch serve the same purpose. The leaves are the essence of the plant; when simmered with the syrup, the medicinal effect is fully realized,” she explained confidently, captivating all eyes in the room. One gaze lingered momentarily with unclear intent.

“Compared to the leaves, the fruit’s efficacy is weaker—mainly for nourishment and maintenance, regulating the body,” she continued. “Loquats capture the energy of all four seasons, unique among fruits.”

In modern times, many simply consume loquats as fruit, and Yin Qingyue occasionally did the same.

“Then why not just use the leaves?” a physician asked humbly, recognizing that her insights could not be learned from books.

“Since this is called loquat syrup, the fruit must be central. Using only leaves would waste the fruit’s benefits. By sealing the leaves on top of the pot, both leaf and fruit benefits are maximized,” Yin Qingyue explained. She remembered explaining medicine similarly to Nangong Mei before, nearly giving herself away. She had to be discreet, especially with Prince Jing present.

“Today, I’ve truly learned something. The Divine Physician’s skill surpasses ours ordinary physicians,” one admitted, feeling humbled. Her explanation was a lesson, showing them there were always greater heights to achieve.

“I still have one question,” Nangong Lin said, finally voicing a long-held thought. As the Emperor, it was unusual to be cured by discarded herbs, yet the effect was undeniable.

“Please speak, Your Majesty,” Yin Qingyue replied, aware her methods were unconventional and not easily accepted, especially in ancient times.

“Why did you add rock sugar when simmering?” Nangong Lin asked. He remembered the Empress once used rock sugar and pear, which treated symptoms but not the root cause. What was her intent now?

“You observed carefully. Rock sugar is sweet and neutral, balancing the bitterness of the loquat without introducing coldness. Your chronic illness is largely due to coldness. Using something like rock sugar pear might relieve symptoms temporarily but worsen the cough at its root,” Yin Qingyue explained. She had already anticipated his thoughts, having criticized the Empress’s syrup previously.

Her words struck true. Nangong Lin had long suffered from this chronic illness, taking medicines that treated symptoms without curing the cause. He was astonished—and impressed—that she understood this.

“Does Your Majesty have any further doubts?” she asked, smiling. She had explained thoroughly, leaving little room for question.

“I am increasingly curious about the Divine Physician’s training. I imagine you have mastered the Empress’s golden needle technique,” Nangong Lin said, his color improving, his cough subsiding.

“I shall do my utmost, Your Majesty,” Yin Qingyue replied, a slight smirk at her lips. Her response was tactful—neither revealing too much nor offending the Emperor.

“Will my chronic illness recur?” Nangong Lin asked, concerned, having long suffered as a ruler.

“Your Majesty, while I cannot guarantee a complete cure immediately, it will not flare up again in the short term,” she replied clearly.

“Let us hope so,” Nangong Lin said, partly satisfied.

“To fully eradicate the illness, this chamber must be ventilated regularly to maintain airflow. With loquats readily available in the palace, fresh supplies can be used, ensuring no major issues,” Yin Qingyue added.

“I have already explained the simmering method. The Imperial Medical Court will handle future preparations of the loquat syrup,” she said with a smile, having resolved Nangong Lin’s condition. Next, her attention would turn to the Empress.

“Do you understand, Divine Physician?” Nangong Lin asked sharply, still wary of the Medical Court after previous failures.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the physicians replied in unison, anxious not to make mistakes.

“If even this small matter is mishandled, I will dismiss all of you from service,” Nangong Lin warned.

“We will do our utmost,” one replied, voice trembling.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on Yin Qingyue’s lips—mockery or disdain, none could tell. Prince Jing observed everything silently.

Some feelings quietly stirred, though she remained unaware.

“Divine Physician, I hope you can wake the Empress soon,” Nangong Lin said, emphasizing the word wake. His intent was clear only to him.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yin Qingyue replied calmly, then turned and left.

Meanwhile, Longwen Hall was filled with the scent of loquats—a subtle witness to the birth of a scheme, where all present were merely pieces on a chessboard.