Filthy

Xie Qiao looked serious as she walked forward to check on Qin Zhi. She pretended to check his pulse.

She moved her head around and said as if she was reciting a poem, "An illness is like a mountain that collapsed, and it feels like removing a thread when the illness is gone. I did the ceremony to expel the bad luck. He still needs to eat medicine for his illness. Get a doctor here, Imperial Bodyguard Zhou. Get the doctor to prescribe him some medicines. Eat them properly and continuously. He'll be cured by then."

Imperial Bodyguard Zhou was a little confused. "Didn't you just—"

"Sir, one needs to get a doctor when they are ill. We're doing our own jobs." Xie Qiao seemed extraordinarily professional.

What she said was the truth. How could the illness be cured just by her dancing around with a sword?

It was just superstition.

Imperial Bodyguard Zhou said instinctively, "The gold…" He was guilty after saying that.