Chapter 27: Epilepsy

Seeing Jian Aozhu shielding Mei Xianghan, Zhang Yan was completely consumed by a towering rage. In truth, the most dramatic aspect of the whole affair was Jian Aozhu herself. She had never once expressed any intention of breaking off her engagement to Zhang Yan. She had been inserting herself into the relationship between Mei Xianghan and Gu Xingwan while simultaneously maintaining her usual routine with Zhang Yan, treating him as nothing more than a spare tire—a classic example of her habit of keeping multiple options on the line. It was only after Zhang Yan received the letter from Gu Xingwan that he flew into a fury, feeling that Jian Aozhu had betrayed his sincere devotion.

"Get out of the way!" Zhang Yan brandished his blade, slashing and hacking. After a few exchanges, Jian Aozhu could no longer hold her ground. While she could handle Zhang Yan alone, protecting Mei Xianghan made her struggle. "Young Master, run!" Jian Aozhu’s mind raced; since the bridge to Zhang Yan was burned, she chose Mei Xianghan—one had to secure the better prospect.

Mei Xianghan had never experienced the sensation of a blade scraping against his neck, though he had seen chickens slaughtered in the kitchen. Overcome by a paralyzing, involuntary fear, he lacked the strength to flee. "Ao... Aozhu..." he clutched the pillar of the Mist-Wave Pavilion, his eyes rolling back, cold sweat pouring down his face, his complexion as pale as paper. No one outside his inner circle knew he suffered from epilepsy.

The Ministry of Rites official’s residence kept a private physician who carefully managed his health with precious tonics, allowing him to live without incident. But once subjected to severe shock, his epilepsy would trigger: he would collapse rigidly to the ground, convulsing, his eyes upturned, and foam bubbling from his mouth—a truly terrifying sight.

Jian Aozhu and Zhang Yan engaged in a frantic struggle for the blade, back and forth, the embroidered-spring saber changing hands several times within the pavilion, a spectacle more chaotic than any street performance. By the time Jian Aozhu finally seized the weapon, she noticed Mei Xianghan had collapsed to the ground in a dire state. "Young Master Mei, what is wrong?" Mei Xianghan could not speak. Jian Aozhu tried to restrain his spasms, but it was to no avail.

"Damn you! How dare you touch my woman!" Zhang Yan, unaware of the gravity of the situation, saw Mei Xianghan on the ground and seized the chance to land a brutal kick to his groin. Strangely, Mei Xianghan showed no reaction.

"Are you insane? You're going to kill him!" Jian Aozhu shrieked, berating him. Only then did Zhang Yan realize something was terribly wrong; his rage vanished as if doused by a bucket of cold water, and his sanity returned.

At that moment, Chunxi, Mei Xianghan’s personal attendant, finally crawled ashore after swallowing his fill of lake water. Reaching the pavilion and seeing his young master in such a state, he fell to his knees, screaming, "Call a doctor! My young master has epilepsy!"

Jian Aozhu was stunned. Epilepsy was a severe, chronic affliction; if not cared for properly, it could be fatal, and even with treatment, one would be tethered to medicine for life. Her admiration and longing for Mei Xianghan plummeted, replaced by a sudden sense of disdain.

He had suffered from this wretched illness all along. She had known him for two years and was only finding out today. Had Zhang Yan not caused this scene, she might never have known. Yet, she kept a clear head, knowing this was no time for resentment; if the Minister's son died, she would be held responsible. "What are you standing there for? Help him to the carriage!" She struck the frozen Zhang Yan hard.

Realizing the magnitude of the disaster, Zhang Yan scrambled to assist Jian Aozhu, Haitang, and Chunxi in moving Mei Xianghan to the carriage. Chunxi took the reins and raced toward the Jishi Medical Hall, the closest one to the pavilion.

The hall was already closed. A clerk, yawning and carrying an oil lamp, came to the door. "Yawn... we’re closed. Come back tomorrow for medicine or consultations."

Zhang Yan leaped from the carriage, pressed a ten-tael silver ingot into the clerk's hand, and gasped, "A patient is having an epileptic seizure. Please, ask the Divine Doctor Sun to see him." The clerk, recognizing the man was wearing the embroidered uniform of the Imperial Blade Guard and seeing the silver, nodded frantically. "Officer, wait just a moment. I’ll go wake the Divine Doctor at once."

Upon hearing of an epileptic patient, Divine Doctor Sun, moved by his medical duty, rushed out to attend to him without even stopping to dress properly.