Ji Qingwu took a few steps to the bedside, where an assortment of medicine bowls sat on a small table.
She picked one up and sniffed. There were tonics to replenish vitality, antidotes for poison, and concoctions to prolong life. But every medicine has its toxins, let alone when mixed together. This was a clear case of desperation—of trying anything and everything.
Ji Qingwu stood by the bed. "Did you summon me here to treat you?"
She set the bowl down. "But I'm not an expert in poisons. You should find a more skilled physician."
Su Daiyue looked confused. "It wasn't... me who called for you."
But the messenger who came to the Wei Mansion had said that Madam Song wished to see her before she died, that she had something to tell her.
Ji Qingwu and Wei Tongyou exchanged a look.
Su Daiyue pressed against the mattress, trying to sit up, but her arms had no strength, and she slid back down.
Ji Qingwu lent a hand and helped her sit up, her eyes fixing on one spot.
