Gu Jiao entered and, knowing her way well, she drew back the curtain to enter the inner chamber and walked around the screen to the bedside.
Her easy familiarity made it seem as though she had been there before.
But everyone knew this was impossible.
Today’s bed curtains were drawn back, and Gu Jiao immediately saw the middle-aged man lying on the bed, unconscious. Different from yesterday, his head and arms were pierced with silver needles at various acupoints.
Just now that second wife mentioned that Chen Guoluo, the divine doctor’s disciple, had just administered acupuncture to the Duke and had gone to prepare medicine for him.
Yesterday, due to the urgency of the situation, Gu Jiao only briefly met with the Duke. She did not diagnose his pulse nor did she take a close look at his appearance.
Now she had a chance to see him.
To say that his face was so gaunt as to be unrecognizable would not be an exaggeration, but he had a splendid bone structure and an extraordinary demeanor. It was not difficult to imagine that before falling unconscious, he must have been a refined and scholarly man.
A feeling that Gu Jiao could not describe rose from the bottom of her heart, and she did not know why.
Before taking his pulse, Gu Jiao first asked about the patient’s condition: "What caused the Duke to become like this? How long has it been?"
In the carriage, Mu Qingchen had not told Gu Jiao about the Duke’s condition because Mu Qingchen had only planned to make a token appearance.
Mu Qingchen looked at Gu Jiao in astonishment, as if he were struck by how convincing her act was.
However, this question was somewhat difficult to answer.
Mu Qingchen and the second wife fell silent simultaneously for a moment.
"Poisoning."
"Injury from a fall."
Mu Qingchen and the second wife spoke at the same time.
The two of them paused, taken aback.
"Injury from a fall."
"Poisoning."
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