Han Li's brow furrowed deeply as he observed the condition of Li Changlao. After taking the pulse and examining his tongue and pupils, he had already concluded that this was a mixed poison, similar to the "Chanxiang Silk" poison he had encountered before. The antidote required for such a complex toxin was beyond his current abilities. To cleanse the various toxins, he needed something powerful, and his only hope was to try the "Qingling San" (Clear Spirit Powder) along with some other unconventional methods.
Frustrated by the situation, Han Li inwardly cursed the other doctors who had passed on this difficult case to him. Yet on the surface, he maintained a calm, thoughtful expression, as if deep in contemplation.
After a few moments of silence, Elder Zhao could no longer hold back. His voice broke the quiet tension:
"Boy! Can you save Li Changlao or not? Speak up!"
Before Han Li could respond, Master Ma, noticing the rising tension, intervened smoothly:
"Elder Zhao, you're being too impatient. Can't you see that Han Xiaodafu is thinking? Have some patience!"
Elder Zhao shot a glare at Ma but didn't speak. However, Han Li took the opportunity to interrupt the exchange with a light cough. The sound was a bit exaggerated for his youthful age, almost comical, but it was effective in stopping the escalating argument.
"This poison is a mixed toxin, and it's indeed troublesome to cure. I cannot guarantee success, but I am willing to give it a try. However, the process may be risky and could endanger Li Changlao's life. I need to know if everyone is prepared to proceed," Han Li said, his tone deliberately hesitant, trying to gauge the reactions around him.
The room fell into uneasy silence as the family members exchanged nervous glances. No one dared to give an immediate affirmative answer, but it was clear that Han Li was the only one who might have a chance to save Li Changlao.
After a long pause, Li Changlao's wife, Li Shi, spoke up. Her voice was calm but resolute:
"How confident are you, Han Dafu?"
"Fifty percent," Han Li replied without hesitation, his answer blunt.
The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty. However, Li Shi, after a moment of reflection, made a decision:
"Then, please proceed. If my husband doesn't survive, I won't hold you responsible. It will be fate."
Her decision was a bold one, surprising Han Li. He hadn't expected her to be so quick to trust him, especially after hearing his uncertain prognosis.
Elder Zhao was taken aback and quickly tried to dissuade her:
"Li Shi, you haven't thought this through. This boy is too young; how could he be trusted to handle something so serious?"
"I've already thought it over. If we don't try, my husband won't make it through the night. At least this way, there's a fifty percent chance of saving him," Li Shi said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow.
Elder Zhao opened his mouth but found himself speechless. He didn't want to argue further, especially when Li Shi had already made up her mind.
Seeing that no one else objected, Han Li nodded, relieved. He reached into his medicine pouch and pulled out a small, blue ceramic vial. He opened it and retrieved a red pill, carefully holding it up for the others to see.
"Find me a bowl of warm water. This pill needs to be dissolved in it and given to Li Changlao," Han Li instructed.
"I'll do it!" A clear voice responded from behind. It was Zhang Xiu'er, who had been standing quietly, her eyes red from worry. Without hesitation, she moved toward the door to fetch the water.
Li Feiyu, after a brief pause, followed her outside.
Han Li inwardly sighed, clearly unimpressed by Feiyu's actions. Why does he always have to act so dramatic? Han Li thought.
A few moments later, Zhang Xiu'er returned empty-handed, looking helpless. Li Feiyu, however, entered carefully with a porcelain bowl filled with warm water, holding it with great caution as if it were something fragile.
Seeing this, the others in the room couldn't help but chuckle softly, amused by the awkwardness of the situation. Zhang Xiu'er blushed slightly, her demeanor showing signs of embarrassment as she tried to maintain her composure. The atmosphere lightened considerably, and the tension that had been hanging in the air seemed to dissipate.
Li Feiyu handed the bowl to Li Shi, who turned to Han Li, asking for his confirmation:
"Han Dafu, is this water okay?"
Han Li glanced at the bowl, nodded, and then took it in one hand, dropping the red pill inside. The pill dissolved almost immediately, turning the water a bright red.
"Give it to Li Changlao. You're more meticulous than I am, so you should do it," Han Li said, handing the bowl back to Li Shi.
Li Shi didn't hesitate. With a determined expression, she took the bowl and gently began administering the red liquid to her husband.
Elder Zhao, unable to hold back any longer, asked, "What exactly is this medicine?"
Han Li shrugged nonchalantly.
"It's a self-made antidote. I hope it will have some effect," he said, deliberately leaving out the name of the medicine. If anyone finds out this is 'Qingling San,' it might cause unnecessary complications, he thought.
As Li Shi continued to feed the medicine to Li Changlao, the room grew quiet once more. Time seemed to stretch, and after what felt like an eternity, subtle signs of improvement began to appear. The black aura around Li Changlao's face started to fade, and the colorful poison spots on his skin shrank and lightened.
The change was noticeable enough that even those without any medical knowledge could see that the poison was receding, and hope started to return to the room.
The family members exchanged relieved glances, their faces lighting up with joy. Their eyes turned toward Han Li, admiration clear in their gaze. Only Elder Zhao, though visibly relieved, remained quiet, giving a soft snort through his nose. Even so, his expression had softened considerably.
Han Li, however, was surprised at how quickly the antidote seemed to work. I didn't expect Qingling San to be this effective, he thought. Perhaps the poison wasn't as formidable as he had first believed. Yet, as much as he was relieved, a nagging thought lingered in his mind.
The success of this antidote only served to remind him of how it had failed to cure his own lingering poison. The irony wasn't lost on him: Why does Qingling San work so well on others, but not for me?