Internal meridians

Indeed, Murong Fu's expression soured, and he remarked, "Song's son's meridians have truly suffered extensive damage... It seems that the esteemed Medicine King's claim of Dou Zhuan Xing Yi's healing prowess may be a result of his lackluster aptitude. After practicing Dou Zhuan Xing Yi for a decade, he remains unaware of its meridian-renewing effects."

Song Qingshu's disappointment was palpable, and Madam Hu couldn't bear to witness it. She couldn't help but interject, "Since Mr. Murong is unable to assist, we must explore other avenues for Brother Song's recovery. It appears I cannot stay here any longer."

"My sister-in-law need not despair. If this last glimmer of hope has faded, then I am truly beyond salvation. As you intend to investigate Murong Jingyue, it would be more convenient to remain here," Song Qingshu's tone dripped with sadness and resignation. The visit to Yanziwu had yielded no remedy for his injury, and he had no choice but to depart.

While it was tempting to settle down with Madam Hu and lead a stable life, the looming threat of Zhou Zhiruo hung over her head. She needed to amass strength before seeking her out—a daunting task.

With martial arts as a lost cause, Song Qingshu's mind raced to consider an alternative path—entering the imperial court. He swiftly weighed his options, contemplating which force to defect to in order to secure his future.

Witnessing Madam Hu's intention to follow Song Qingshu's lead, Murong Fu grew anxious. He swiftly devised a plan and hastened to speak, "Do not fret, it seems the two of you have overlooked a potential solution for treating Song Gongzi's meridians."

Song Qingshu cast a disdainful glance at him. To be honest, the rollercoaster of hope, disappointment, renewed hope, and subsequent despair concerning his meridian treatments had left him emotionally numb. The fluctuations of life were indeed thrilling. Now, he found himself desensitized to any potential remedies.

"I also hope that Mr. Murong can offer some guidance," Madam Hu chimed in, her enthusiasm far surpassing Song Qingshu's.

"I have a cousin who possesses knowledge of martial arts from various schools," Murong Fu's eyes softened briefly before hardening with determination. "A few years ago, during a discussion about internal strength with her, she happened to mention an esoteric inner strength technique known for its life-renewing properties. It might just be the key to healing Song Gongzi's injury..."

"Wang Yuyan?" Song Qingshu's interest was suddenly piqued. How could he have forgotten about that beautiful martial arts prodigy who possessed no martial skills? If she had mentioned it, there might indeed be hope. Excitement welled up within him as he inquired, "Mr. Murong, what is the name of this inner strength technique?"

Murong Fu's expression flickered with excitement. "I... I can't remember."

It turned out that when Murong Fu had heard about this martial art, he had scoffed at it, dismissing it as implausible. Consequently, he hadn't bothered to commit its name to memory. Now, in his desperate attempt to retain Madam Hu's presence, the sudden recollection of this anecdote, prompted by Song Qingshu's predicament, stirred within him.

Observing the apprehensive expressions on their faces, Murong Fu swiftly interjected, "But my cousin surely remembers."

"Is Mr. Murong's cousin present here?" Madam Hu appeared more nervous than Song Qingshu in that moment.

"She resides at Manduo Mountain Villa, a short distance away from here. If it's too late today, why not stay here for a while, and tomorrow we can journey together to meet my cousin," Murong Fu proposed, racking his brain to find a way to keep Madam Hu by his side.

"You have my gratitude, Mr. Murong. We shall await tomorrow then," Madam Hu expressed her gratitude, mindful not to push too much.

"Abi, please arrange some wine and food. Where is Azhu?" Murong Fu turned around and issued instructions.

"Sister Azhu heard of the young master's arrival and has already gone to the kitchen to prepare the refreshments," Abi replied with a gentle smile before discreetly retreating. "I shall assist Sister Azhu."

"Mr. Murong is truly fortunate to have such exquisite maids," Song Qingshu sincerely remarked.

Murong Fu offered a faint smile but remained silent. Meanwhile, Madam Hu cast him a perplexed gaze, questioning why he was lavishing praise on the household members in such a manner.

Song Qingshu, sensing their odd reactions, realized his mistake. As a modern individual, he was accustomed to women appreciating lighthearted banter and exaggerating beauty as a means of fostering camaraderie. However, he now understood that such tactics did not apply in ancient times.

"My son is honored to have esteemed guests today. Congratulations are in order," a hearty laughter resonated from outside, heralding the arrival of four figures dressed in martial attire.

"So, these are the four Gusu Murong masters. It is an honor to meet you," Song Qingshu promptly rose and paid his respects to them. He couldn't help but ponder whether these martial artists possessed the same awe-inspiring skills depicted in television dramas or revered novels—a league of their own.

Observing that Song Qingshu didn't address himself as a Murong general, the four martial artists felt a sense of warmth towards him. They engaged him in conversation, seeking to foster a bond.

"My son, the wine and food are ready. Shall we proceed to the table?" Amidst Song Qingshu's interactions with the spirited individuals, a delightful fragrance wafted through the air. For a moment, he thought a fellow modern woman had also traversed through time. The familiar scent of rose perfume almost brought tears to his eyes. Turning around, he caught sight of a petite, exquisitely dressed young lady. Excitedly, he asked, "Are you familiar with Jin Yong's works?"

The girl in the red dress appeared taken aback, stealing a glance at Murong before responding, "My apologies, but have you mistaken me for someone else, my son?"

Realizing she was puzzled, Song Qingshu couldn't help but smile. "Did you apply rose perfume on your body?"

The girl in the red dress brightened her eyes, as if she had encountered a kindred spirit. "Yes, yes! Does the son also appreciate floral fragrances? This is my homemade rose dew..."

"Azhu, enough with the mischief," Murong Fu coughed gently from the side.

Azhu playfully stuck out her tongue and swiftly proceeded to arrange the wine table alongside Abi.

Song Qingshu found himself in a daze, wondering where exactly the storyline of "The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber" had progressed to. It seemed they hadn't even reached the starting point. Why was Qiao Feng already the King of Nanyuan in the Liao Kingdom? However, considering his ability to travel from modern times, these deviations weren't too difficult to comprehend.

After dinner, Azhu and Abi led the two guests to their respective guest rooms. Azhu seemed hesitant to speak, prompting Song Qingshu to inquire with amusement, "Azhu, what do you want to say?"

Azhu's dark eyes darted around mischievously as she giggled, "My son, why are bearded men so adept at women's affairs?"

"Are you referring to the rose dew?" Song Qingshu chuckled in bewilderment. Back in his time, he was familiar with the scents of Chanel and Dior perfumes, making it easy to identify the fragrance worn by a young girl.

"Hmm~" Azhu nodded enthusiastically.

"Azhu, although I find your rose dew elegant and refined, it appears to lack longevity," Song Qingshu's mind raced, contemplating Azhu's extraordinary abilities. Suddenly, a plan formed within him.