I Own a Garden with One Hundred Herbs

What should come will always come.

Baicaoshi gave Zhe Yu a look, stood up, You can take care of it at ease, I will come to see you when I have time.

Zhe Yu's gaze drifted out of the window, and he raised his chin slightly, You don't need to come here, since you are safe and sound, I will leave at night. He covered his mouth and coughed lightly, and the corners of his eyes were slightly red.

Baicaoshi only felt that the male lead was really arrogant, he was obviously worried, but he said it coldly. What should I do if I meet a sick girl? Coax it. If Senior Greenhead says you can go, you can go. Senior, what do you think?

What's none of my business? The green-headed man turned around, leaving them with a handsome back, and muttered in a low voice, We have a relationship between a meal of Dongpo meat and a plate of tuckahoe cakes. It seems that we are very familiar with you. Like.

Baicao Poetry: ...

She raised her eyebrows, and without saying a word, she left the green-headed man's yard.

After her figure disappeared from sight, Oruha got off the bed, stood by the window and looked out. The pancakes just now are delicious, and the porridge is also delicious. He felt like his stomach was being sucked.

**

Those who came to meet Baicaoshi were two guards in black clothes.

Miss Bai, my master is here to invite you. The voice was very cold.

Baicao Poetry is a blessing, please lead the way.

Dongli Villa occupies a very large area, which Baicaoshi felt when he first came yesterday. In a word, it is called, the sun and the moon in the pot, there is a hole in the sky. Feng Wang Yingzhefeng was placed in the very quiet Fanyue Courtyard. Sanskrit comes from Sanskrit, meaning inner peace. It can also be seen from this that the owner of the villa has noble aspirations.

At the entrance of the small courtyard, a row of green bamboos is planted, and the breeze moves, and the bamboo shadows dance. On the contrary, it is similar to Su Dongpo's writing. I would rather eat without meat than live without bamboo.

The herringbone-shaped sloping roof stretches out a row of long corridors, and there are more than a dozen people standing under the corridors, nervous, anxious, and full of worries. Baicaoshi glanced over and saw Xue Lin, the steward of Jinxiang Medical Center at the end of the line.

It turned out to be waiting here.

She guessed right, Ying Zhefeng really came to seek medical treatment.

Girl please.

Baicaoshi entered the room and was stimulated by the strong soothing fragrance.

The role of spices is to relieve nerves, and the amount available is too large, too much is not enough. A white gauze curtain hangs down beside the bed, and a person can be vaguely seen sitting in it.

Chen Guangliang stood beside the couch like a straight javelin. Girl, my master is not feeling well, please treat him for me.

Through the gauze curtain, it is really hard to see clearly, there is no hope for a doctor, and Baicaoshi is unwilling to face King Feng. As for the smell and diagnosis, only the scent of requiem incense; Baicaoshi sat on the chair and asked, Excuse me, what symptoms does the patient have?

There was silence for a while, and a voice came from inside: I can't sleep at night, and the food is tasteless. I have seen many doctors and doctors, but nothing helps.

In the tone, there is some irritability.

Baicaoshi lowered her eyes and continued to ask: Is there any pain in the body?

It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt. The answer is also quite painless.

What about going to the toilet every day?

Baicaoshi considered herself a doctor and asked this question frankly. But when she heard the sound of hissing inside, she realized that this was ancient times, and it was a big problem for men and women to stick to each other. Maybe the other party thought she was deviant.

Ying Zhefeng's pitch was three points higher, and he answered simply and forcefully, Smooth.

As for whether it is big or small, Baicaoshi has a feeling that as long as she asks, she will be thrown out without hesitation.

Please stretch out your hand, and I can draw conclusions only after I check my pulse.

Ying Zhefeng stuck out his right hand.

Unlike Zhe Yu's slender and white hands, Ying Zhefeng's skin is bronzed, with calluses on his fingertips. Baicao Poetry cuts the pulse.

Ying Zhefeng noticed the injury on her hand.

Cut the vegetables yesterday?

Baicao Poetry: ...

Unexpectedly, King Feng would ask such a question. Naturally, she would not say that this was a sequelae of chopping wood to make a cane, so she only let out a huh and continued to make a serious diagnosis.

In the original novel, Ying Zhefeng lost his sense of taste.

However, as one of the princes, he has the possibility of inheriting the throne.

But if he is diagnosed with insufficiency of the five senses, it is tantamount to being disabled, and he will lose the qualifications of the future prince.

Therefore, the imperial physicians made a diagnosis and said that his heart was stagnant and blocked, which led to loss of appetite.

Ying Zhefeng taboos illness and avoids medical treatment, and he can't speak up.

Later, he wanted to find a cure among the people, so he thought of the Yaowang Valley in Beichuan, a county in the southwest of Yan Kingdom. As a result, there was only one lame old man in the valley.