"An upset stomach, with a weak spleen and kidneys. You need replenishing tonics."
After taking Yan Huan's pulse, Song Lianhe immediately wrote out a prescription.
People on both sides were snickering, and their gazes held a trace of pity.
Yan Huan's face turned beet red. Song Lianhe handed him the prescription. "Go over there and have an attendant brew the medicine."
Yan Huan rose awkwardly. "Thank you, Princess Consort."
As he turned, he sighed faintly. 'He wanted to take them away too, but he'd need the ability to do it!'
'Never mind all these commoners protecting them. Just look at King Qing's men—every one of them is like a demon. If it came to a one-on-one fight, I'd definitely be on the losing end!'
'Besides...'
'All these trips to the latrine have left me without the strength to even lift my sword.'
Yan Huan had already accepted his fate, obediently handing the prescription to Bai Shu to fill.
"Go wait in the ward area."
"Okay."
