Madam, don't do this!

Chapter 61 Murderous Intentions (Another Three Thousand)
Song Yan glanced at Wu Chen with disdain. How dare he ask what illness he had?

Look at your dark circles, your unsteady steps, and the appearance that you have been drained by alcohol and sex. Even an unskilled person can tell that you have kidney deficiency.

Wu Chen was stunned. He thought he would hear names like rheumatism, tumor, and loss of glory. Who would have thought it was kidney deficiency?
You said I have kidney deficiency?
What a joke! I lost my virginity to a maidservant at the age of thirteen, and I have seventeen or eighteen maidservants around me. I revel in sex every night. How can I have kidney deficiency? How can a man be accused of kidney deficiency?
His face flushed red: "Damn..."

"But, I can cure it."

The curse got stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter the word "bastard" after all. Perhaps it was too uncomfortable to breathe, so he started coughing violently. After a few breaths, his face turned even redder, and the anger dissipated.

Thinking of his lovely wife and concubines at home, and how seven days would only last a short while, Wu Chen's expression became more respectful than ever before. He cupped his hands and bowed deeply to Song Yan, "Brother Song, if you can cure this stubborn disease, you will be my second parent."

Are you really not afraid of your father beating you? Song Yan smiled and said, "Brother Wu, this place is not suitable. How about coming to see me when you have time in the future?"

"Of course, of course." Wu Chen nodded happily. After all, this disease was a little difficult to talk about. If Song Yan took out a medicinal material like a tiger whip on the spot, wouldn't everyone know that he had kidney deficiency? That was of course not acceptable.

At this time, Wu Chen no longer had any of his previous arrogance. He bowed respectfully again and then retreated.

This incident aroused the interest of many people, and they all wanted to test Song Yan's ability. Just as Wu Chen left, another young man came in. After examining him, Song Yan was filled with black lines on his forehead:

Kidney deficiency!

Kidney deficiency!

It’s still kidney deficiency!

Eight out of ten young masters are idle. You can imagine how decadent their daily lives are.

Come to think of it, these young men often lose their virginity at the age of thirteen or fourteen. It is difficult for them to control themselves when they first taste the pleasure, so it is considered good if they have not ruined their bodies after a few years.

Seeing these young masters' attitudes of being arrogant at first and then respectful, everyone looked at each other in surprise. Who could have thought that the youngest and least favored bastard in the Duke's Mansion had such ability? Just a few words could convince these unruly young masters. When they thought about what Luo Yuheng said about him being able to cure tuberculosis, he was a miracle doctor.

In this world, doctors hold a high status. After all, the more prestigious and wealthy one is, the more they cherish their lives. Large families all have family doctors, and even the mistress and head of the household hold them in high esteem. Treating them harshly could shorten their lives by several years. Those who manage to hold high positions for extended periods are often shrewd and wouldn't make such a small mistake.

For a miracle doctor like Song Yan, who could even cure tuberculosis, no one cared about his status as a bastard. Even aristocratic families would marry their daughters to him. Suddenly, everyone's gazes towards Song Yan changed. No longer was they looking at him with disdain, but with a touch of respect. Praise for Song Yan could be heard everywhere, mostly praising his profound medical skills. Some even wanted to invite Song Yan to treat their elders after the Qixi Festival.

Facing the voices around him, Song Yan remained calm. He would not feel ashamed because of the contempt of others, nor would he feel arrogant because of the flattery of others.

Looking at Song Yun again, the guests couldn't help but mock him, especially Wu Chen and Cui Shian, who laughed the loudest. The Song family was truly foolish, marrying off a doctor like her to be a son-in-law.

Song Yun's face turned pale, and he felt a nameless anger in his chest. Why did he have to embarrass himself so much every time he appeared with Song Yan?

Jiang Miaojun was not able to see the desired result and looked quite dissatisfied. She interrupted everyone's flattery of Song Yan with a gloomy face and announced the start of the Qixi Festival.

The entire Qixi Festival will be divided into four sessions, namely music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, wine and flowers. There are seven tracks for literati and scholars, and four of them are music, poetry and wine.

There was no other way. Go games took too long, and neither writing nor painting could be completed in a short time, so they had to be cancelled. The flowers were a performance by the courtesan, not flowers. Don't get that wrong.

First, it is the piano.

The person playing the piano was a courtesan in Qun Yuyuan. The sound of the piano was clear and seemed quite good. Song Yan didn't know much about music, and his legs were a little numb from kneeling for a long time, so he slowly stood up and walked to the back. Not long after, he heard footsteps. It was Cui Shian.

"Brother Cui, what's the matter with the injuries on your face?" Song Yan asked curiously. How could anyone in Songzhou City dare to attack Cui Shian? Aren't they afraid of being pelted with silver by this second-generation leader?

Cui Shian was about to speak when he accidentally pulled at the wound on his face, and immediately grimaced again: "Don't mention it. After you left yesterday, I... cough cough, because I was drunk and exhausted, I had no choice but to stay overnight at Qun Yuyuan."

"When I was about to leave in the early morning, I don't know which bastard put a sack on me, and I ended up like this."

As he said this, Cui Shian suddenly felt a chill coming from behind him. He shivered and subconsciously looked around, but found nothing.

"Where are Mr. Zhao and Mr. Lu..."

"I left this morning."

When the song ended, there was a burst of cheers. The courtesan bowed and left.

Next, it’s poetry.

Typically, the host would present a theme, and talented scholars would compose poems and lyrics based on it. Since it was Qixi Festival, the theme was set. Then, a scholar stood up and said, "I'll show you my work..." The atmosphere became lively again. Although everyone appeared calm and composed, they were secretly engaged in a heated debate, their facial muscles tensing as they reviewed the works. If someone could write a good Qixi poem, they would often attract the attention of many young ladies, who would then raise their heads in pride.

Poetry, if it has reached a very high level, it is actually difficult to distinguish the good from the bad, but if it is a humble work, then it is clear at a glance. It is like the one who has two pieces, three pieces, and four pieces, are you Aixinjueluo Hongli?

The style of Qixi Festival poems is mostly mournful, no matter how they are written, they can't escape the short-lived joy and the sadness of parting. But the young ladies love this style the most, many of them have red eyes and secretly shed tears, which makes many talented poets even more excited, as if making the girls cry is a great thing.

“What the hell are you worrying about…” Cui Shian next to him stroked his arms, as if he wanted to wipe away the goose bumps that kept popping up: “These people, which one of them doesn’t have five or six maids around her? Some even have several wives and concubines, and they are still worrying here. It’s disgusting.” The night deepened in this atmosphere. Many talented people took out their masterpieces that they had prepared long ago. Some of the Qixi poems were even recognized by several academic officials. The Qixi party gradually reached its climax.

"Today, there are many excellent works here." Suddenly, Fang Jun stood up and sighed softly, turning the topic to Song Yun: "Unfortunately, even if all these excellent works are added together, they still fall short of Brother Song's "Falling flowers, a man alone, light rain, swallows flying in pairs."

"Who knows if that poem was written by Song Yun?" Wu Chen snorted. He hadn't dealt with Song Yun much on a daily basis, so he naturally wouldn't offend the Duke's legitimate son for no reason. But now that Song Yun was his adoptive father, who could save the rest of his life, he naturally didn't care about that. "If I remember correctly, Divine Doctor Song was the first to recite this poem."

It started to blow outside.

Inside the hall, there was a debate about who wrote this poem. For a moment, it was as noisy as a market, and some people even argued until their faces flushed.
At this moment, Song Yan coughed lightly, and the surroundings fell into silence. Everyone's eyes fell on Song Yan, as if they wanted to find out the tangled truth. Even Song Yun was no exception, and his body tensed up instantly.

He couldn't help but feel a little panicked. Although Song Yan seemed to have given him that poem before, who could guarantee that Song Yan wouldn't regret it? What if he wanted to tell the truth here...

"Everyone, there's no need to argue. That poem was indeed written by my brother. I once stumbled into Seventh Brother's study and stumbled upon it among the many poems."

The moment this sentence appeared, Song Yun's whole body relaxed. He knew that from this moment on, the poem completely belonged to him. Even if Song Yan changed his words in the future, no one would believe it. For a moment, he was actually moved deep in his heart.

"It was indeed written by Brother Song. Haha, Brother Song has great literary talent. I just don't know if Brother Song has the full poem. Why not take it out for everyone to appreciate? How about it?" Fang Jun clapped his hands and chuckled.

Song Yun's forehead was already covered with beads of sweat, and the muscles on his face had become somewhat stiff from being tense for so long. Upon hearing this, he could only force out a thin, dry smile: "I occasionally come up with a good line, just an occasional good line, but I don't have a complete poem."

"What a pity! I wonder if Brother Song has any other works today. Why not take them out for everyone to appreciate together?" Cui Shian offered his assistance with a smile.

Song Yun's face froze again. He had indeed prepared some poems for today, but those poems seemed satisfactory at first, but they were far inferior to those of others. With that poem in front of him, it would be embarrassing to take these out.

"Ahem, writing poetry and lyrics requires inspiration, and today is really..."

"That's really a pity. Hey, by the way, Brother Song, just now the young doctor Song said that he had been to your study and had seen many poems and articles. Why don't we..." Cui Shian followed up.

Song Yun's expression grew increasingly rigid. He finally understood what it felt like to tell a lie and then have to cover it up with countless lies. His voice even grew a little hoarse. "It's just some clumsy work, not worthy of being presented in a formal setting. There's no need to pollute your ears by showing it to you. Don't mention it again, don't mention it again."

Scholars and literati were extremely fond of excellent poetry. They believed that since Song Yun could produce such beautiful lines as "Falling flowers, a man standing alone; Light rain, swallows flying in pairs," he must have other masterpieces. Seeing that they couldn't get what they wanted from Song Yun, and with Cui Shian stirring up trouble, many people set their sights on Song Yan: "Little Miracle Doctor Song..."

Because of his superb medical skills, no one cared about Song Yan reciting Song Yun's poems.

"You have been to Song Yun's study and read his poems. I wonder if there are any others?" someone asked.

Song Yan thought for a moment and said, "Indeed, there is another poem."

Everyone's eyes lit up: "Quickly recite it and let us listen!"

At this moment, Song Yun's heart was in his throat, and he could even clearly feel the violent beating in his chest.

Song Yan didn't mind giving Song Yun some fame. Since he dared to attribute these two poems to Song Yun, he was confident that he could take them back. After a brief hesitation, Song Yan chanted softly:
"Now I know the taste of sorrow, I want to say it but I can't. I want to say it but I can't, so I say the cool weather is a good autumn."

Although it was only half, and seemed to be only the second stanza, one could still feel the sense of tragedy and desolation between the lines, and there was an immediate burst of admiration from all around.

"Good, good, worthy of being Song Yun, this is another excellent work."

"I think Brother Song Yun is the real Qilin son of the Song family."

At this moment, Song Yun's whole body relaxed and he let out a long breath. Although he didn't know where Song Yan got this poem from, at this moment this poem belonged to him.

The phrase "a true Song family unicorn" made Song Yun's blood boil. It was the first time in all these years that he'd received such praise, and a smile broke out on his stiff face. "This is just my mischievous behavior. Thank you for the compliment."

Hearing this, Song Yan's smile became even more intense. He really couldn't escape the word fame.

"Haha, Brother Song is too modest, but Little Divine Doctor Song really doesn't understand poetry. This is Ugly Slave, a ci poem, not a poem."

"However, this sounds like the second half of the poem, but I don't know how the first half works."

Song Yan smiled slightly: "The upper part is..."

"Young people do not know the taste of sorrow, they love the upper floors. They love the upper floors, and force themselves to express sorrow in order to write new poems!"

As soon as the map cannon was fired, the originally bustling Songyuan fell into deathly silence.

The second chapter is here, and Song Yun’s road to death begins.

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(End of this chapter)