Chapter 13:

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"His Royal Highness, Your Highness, the humble position, the humble position is really powerless, we should report to the Empress Dowager as soon as possible..." The little doctor knelt in front of the dragon tamansha, crying and kowtowing.

In the entire hall, the dragons are burning at their peak, hot water is continuously supplied, the traditional Chinese medicine is brewed, and the smoke of wormwood is smoldering in the air, creating the temperature of spring recovery in the cold winter months.

Due to the timely and thorough discharge of sewage and filth, the emperor's breathing has long since recovered. Coupled with the **** soup, acupuncture, and moxibustion separated by ginger, people should be fine, but the emperor has not woken up.

A deep voice came from inside the curtain: "It will be all right, the Sage believes in your medical skills, you just do your best to heal, and don't make a sound. If the Sage wakes up and wants to blame, I will take full responsibility."

Ming Ciyue's close-fitting black soft armor was half-open, and a small lump was placed close to his chest to protect it. The outer layer was covered with a large animal skin cloak, and the outer layer was wrapped with a golden silk quilt, which tightly bound the two of them. Together.

Fang Caiming said that the more he wanted to put the Son of Heaven in the quilt, it was the little doctor who suggested that the Son of Heaven was unable to recover his body temperature by himself due to the cold, and that another person needed to help him fight the cold.

Presumptuous, it is too presumptuous. Absurd and dangerous.

On the side of the emperor's dragon couch, how can others sleep peacefully!

But the emperor trembled violently in a coma, and Mingci followed him more and more, forgetting everything.

Etiquette, monarchs, ministers, Lund, don't remember anything.

He carefully held the trembling body in front of his chest, on the tip of his heart.

The current Yanfu Hall has been in a state of complete confinement since the third o'clock on the eve of the winter solstice.

If this matter spreads out before the winter solstice banquet, firstly, the world will be in chaos, and ambitious people will take advantage of the opportunity, and secondly, they will be frightened. It wouldn't be him, but the two ladies who walked on the ice first.

The voice of his heart has disappeared and cannot be heard, but he understands that the Son of Heaven is risking going down the ice in order to save people, and such a sage would definitely not want the ending of two noble ladies going to prison.

He can hide it for a while, he wants to leave the choice to the little sage.

It's just a saint in such a helpless and helpless situation... what a saint!

Ming Ci's heart became more and more fierce.

The feeling of suffocation was probably lingering around the saint from the beginning to the end, and it never dissipated.

The little doctor checked the emperor's pulse again, and sobbed: "Your Highness, but all the prescriptions have been exhausted, the saint's pulse is still too empty..."

After a long silence, Ming Ciyue's voice was as soft as he was talking to himself: "It's okay, he's okay, he will wake up."

With the heavy barriers of curtains and warm fog, no one could see the scene inside the dragon couch.

The saint is as light as a little baby, like a little beast that has not opened its eyes and is covered in fluff.

The more Mingci lifted him up from his chest, the strange heartbeat in his ears faded a little, and then dropped him on his chest, and the thumping sound instantly became more powerful.

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