Miaoyan was startled and hurriedly restrained her sharpness and inquiries, softly saying: "Enough, it's my fault. I won't ask, Mother, you should rest well—"
Su Zhixue finally eased her coughing, gazed at her, and spoke hoarsely:
"It's fine for you to know, in this Imperial Palace, I've long lost purity and face... I trust that Divine Doctor because he said he was working for your Third Imperial Uncle and even provided evidence."
Su Zhixue fell into memories of the past.
Five years ago, a masked man suddenly appeared in her sleeping quarters, holding poems that Rong Jue had written for her. Those verses were only known to her and Rong Jue, written in Rong Jue's own handwriting. Because of this, she believed the man's diagnosis.
Later it was proven, his prescription indeed worked, and two years ago, this person appeared again with a new prescription.
It was only last night when she saw the man again, that she could signal to Rong Miaoyan that he was someone trustworthy.
