Tang Dynasty: Feeding Chang Le, Emperor Li Er exclaimed that she was a true immortal!

Fear, shock, disbelief—a jumble of emotions churned within Chang Le's chest.

Her breathing began to quicken.

It's getting more and more urgent.

It's getting shallower and shallower.

The dagger slipped from her hand and fell to the ground with a clatter.

Chang Le clutched her own neck with both hands, her face turning from pale to bluish-purple.

My qi disorder flared up.

This is a chronic ailment that has plagued her for over a decade.

Each time there is a violent emotional fluctuation, it triggers a fatal bout of gasping for breath.

She opened her mouth wide, desperately trying to breathe, but it felt like an invisible hand was tightly gripping her throat, and she couldn't get any air in.

His body was swaying precariously.

My knees feel weak.

She knelt down on the ground, her hands bracing against the mahogany floor, her knuckles turning white from the force.

Lu Ming's expression changed instantly.

He could tell at a glance—this wasn't just ordinary shortness of breath; it was an acute asthma attack.

If we don't intervene in time, people will die.

Without any hesitation.

Lu Ming turned and rushed to the medicine box in the bathroom.

He rummaged through drawers and cabinets, rummaging through a pile of miscellaneous medicines for five seconds before finally finding a tube of salbutamol aerosol.

He had mild asthma when he was a child, which he later recovered from, but he habitually keeps it in his medicine cabinet.

When Lu Mingchong returned, Chang Le was already lying on the ground.

Her lips were turning purple, her eyes were unfocused, and she was losing consciousness rapidly.

Without saying a word, Lu Ming stuffed the aerosol can through the light screen.

The metal tube easily passed through the invisible barrier and rolled down in front of Chang Le.

"Pick it up! Press it into your mouth!" Lu Ming practically roared.

Chang Le is about to lose consciousness.

But the instinct for survival drove her to tremble as she grabbed the cold metal object.

"Press the top one! Press hard!"

She used almost her last bit of strength to aim the nozzle at her lips and press the valve at the top.

hiss--

A cool medicinal mist was sprayed into her mouth and airway.

The suffocating feeling of being tightly gripped by the throat began to subside visibly the moment the medicinal mist entered.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

Air rushed into my lungs.

Chang Le suddenly gasped for breath.

She lay on the ground, coughing violently, tears and cold sweat mingling together, soaking the front of her nightgown.

But she survived.

They were pulled back from the brink of death.

It took Chang Le a while to catch her breath.

She knelt on the ground, trembling all over, and looked up at the other side of the screen with teary eyes.

The young man, dressed in an oddly short-sleeved shirt and exposing his long legs, was kneeling on one knee on the other side of the boundary wall, staring at her anxiously.

She was pointing a dagger at him just now.

They hadn't even figured out each other's identities.

But this person saved her life without hesitation.

Chang Le looked down at the metal object in her hand, which was still emitting a slight chill, and her lips trembled for a long time.

"Immortal... Immortal..."

The voice was so faint it was almost inaudible, and the fear in his eyes had completely transformed into deep awe.

Chang Le did not faint again.

But she was in very poor condition.

Although the illness was suppressed by the divine object, his physical condition was severely weakened. His forehead was burning hot, his face was flushed with an abnormal redness, and he was huddled in the corner of the bed, wrapped in a blanket, still shivering.

I have a fever.

And it was burned quite badly.

Lu Ming watched her condition through the light screen, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

He's not a doctor, but he took a first aid course in college and was also a frequent patient with medication as a child, so he has basic judgment.

High fever, shortness of breath, pale complexion, weakness and chills.

This is no coincidence.

This deficit is the result of years of chronic illness.

In modern times, someone with this constitution could easily get a consultation with a specialist at a top-tier hospital and receive treatment with both traditional Chinese and Western medicine for a year or two, and wouldn't have any major problems.

But what if this happened in the Tang Dynasty?

That's just waiting to die.

Lu Ming glanced at the search results on the computer screen again.

"In the seventeenth year of the Zhenguan era, Princess Changle passed away at the young age of twenty-three."

Although the cause of death is not clearly recorded in historical books, all academic papers point to the same conclusion—he was weak and sickly, and his illness was caused by overwork.

In other words, the girl across from us, who is delirious with fever, was destined to die young in history.

Lu Ming remained silent for a long time.

Then he stood up, walked to the medicine box, and took out a strip of ibuprofen sustained-release capsules.

"Feed".

He squatted down beside the light screen and tapped on the invisible barrier.

Chang Le, wrapped in a blanket, barely managed to open her eyes a crack.

Those eyes were burning red and filled with tears.

"Stretch out your hand."

Chang Le hesitated for a moment, then slowly stretched out a hand from under the covers.

Slender, pale, with distinct joints, yet her fingertips were frighteningly hot.

Lu Ming placed two ibuprofen capsules in her palm and then casually shoved a half-empty bottle of mineral water from the bedside table into her hand.

"Eat it, and your fever will go down."

Chang Le looked down at the two transparent red capsules in her palm.

It was crystal clear, and seemed to contain a flowing red liquid inside.

She had taken countless herbal medicines in her life, some so bitter they could make you vomit your bile. But she had never seen medicine made in this shape before.

"This is... an elixir of immortality?"

"Pretty much." Lu Ming was too lazy to explain the pharmacological mechanism of ibuprofen. "Hurry up and take it, don't dawdle."

Chang Le glanced at him again.

The man's tone was utterly disrespectful, even rude.

In the Tang Dynasty, anyone who dared to speak to her in such a tone would be dragged out and beaten to death by the Imperial Guards.

But strangely, she wasn't angry.

Perhaps it was because the vial of life-saving medication she had just received gave her enough trust.

Perhaps it was because the anxious look in the other person's eyes didn't seem fake.

Chang Le closed her eyes, put the two capsules in her mouth, and swallowed them with the strange, clear water.

She paused slightly as the mineral water slid down her throat.

So sweet.

It is even cleaner and clearer than the spring water in the palace that has been boiled three times in a silver pot.

"Go to sleep," Lu Ming said. "The fever will subside in two hours... a little over an hour."

Chang Le was too weak to speak anymore. Holding the bottle of mineral water, she fell into a deep sleep.

Lu Ming did not leave.

He moved a chair and sat down on this side of the light screen, staring at the other side.

It would be a lie to say I'm not worried.

Ibuprofen is indeed very effective at reducing fever, but Chang Le's health is so poor that he has to stay by her side if there are any adverse reactions.

Time passed by, second by second.

About forty minutes passed.

Chang Le's forehead began to sweat.

Large drops of sweat rolled down his temples, soaking the pillow.

This is a normal reaction as the fever subsides.

Lu Ming breathed a sigh of relief.

Another half hour passed.

Chang Le turned over, her breathing becoming steady and long.

The abnormal flush on her face completely faded, replaced by a healthy, slightly pinkish white complexion.

The fever has subsided.

Moreover, the withdrawal was very thorough.

Lu Ming then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a while.