The Little Darling Wife Who is a Divine Doctor Saved the Entire Family of the Duke's Mansion Chapter 4: Mo Jiuye was carried back.
Previously on The Little Darling Wife Who is a Divine Doctor Saved the Entire Family of the Duke's Mansion...
While evading the guards' watchful eyes in pursuit of lootable items, He Zhiran also sent her consciousness into the space for a quick inspection.
She figured the grand Duke Protector's mansion surely had hefty reserves hidden away.
To her surprise, beyond some rather splendid-looking fabrics, it only held assorted foods, both coarse and fine grains, plus half a chest of silver ingots.
Antiques, paintings, gold, silver jewelry—scarcely any of those were present.
This renowned Duke Protector's mansion proved shockingly impoverished, a testament to the Mo Family's unwavering honesty.
Yet a lineage of such steadfast loyalty was dreaded by the emperor—utterly absurd!
That half-chest of silver, roughly 10,000 taels by her estimate, fell short of expectations, but He Zhiran was convinced it'd prove useful on the road to exile.
As she schemed and moved, He Zhiran swept every accessible item into her space until it brimmed full, then finally withdrew to her courtyard with regret.
Over an hour had elapsed since her departure by now.
Qiao Yu remained diligently posted at the door.
He Zhiran slipped straight into the bedroom via the window.
She'd barely shed her disguising garb when urgent footsteps echoed outside.
"What's wrong with the Duke?"
Upon catching Qiao Yu's frantic query, He Zhiran rushed out.
She saw two guards bearing Mo Jiuye on a door panel, heading into the room.
"Madam, the Duke is hurt. We'll deliver him here first and fetch the imperial physician right away."
With that, the guards shifted Mo Jiuye from the panel onto the bed.
The guards departed, and Qiao Yu approached He Zhiran, eyes reddened.
"Young Miss, the Duke left perfectly fine moments ago. How did he end up unconscious so quickly?"
He Zhiran closely examined Mo Jiuye's state, noting his closed eyes and comatose appearance.
"Go stand by the door. Let the imperial physician in the instant he arrives."
Her top concern was getting Qiao Yu out of the way so she could assess Mo Jiuye's wounds.
"Yes!" Qiao Yu acknowledged and spun away.
He Zhiran brightened the two large red candles to their max and positioned them bedside, set to examine Mo Jiuye.
But the moment her hand extended, Mo Jiuye's eyes snapped open.
"I'm fine."
His voice rang vigorous and strong, confirming he seemed truly unscathed.
"What exactly happened?" He Zhiran pressed.
Mo Jiuye paused briefly, easing his position slightly.
His cold gaze locked intently on He Zhiran.
"How did you foresee my palace trouble today?"
En route back from the palace, sprawled on the door panel, Mo Jiuye pondered how He Zhiran had known.
The most likely source was prior knowledge from her father-in-law He Yuanming; nothing else fit.
Should that hold, He Yuanming aligned with the emperor, and He Zhiran might well be his planted agent.
This suspicion deepened the chill in Mo Jiuye's stare at her.
Any typical young lady of this age would have burst into frightened tears.
He Zhiran sensed Mo Jiuye's doubts but stayed utterly calm.
"I've had the same recurring dream for days, foretelling your exact calamity. Believe it or not, that's my account."
Her eyes shone clear and unwavering; though Mo Jiuye evidently disbelieved, he oddly held back further questions.
Unaware of his thoughts, He Zhiran added, "Are you wounded? I possess some healing knowledge and can check for you."
No sooner had she spoken than Mo Jiuye drew out the protective pad she'd provided, right before her.
The pad bore numerous tears, faint bloodstains visible upon it.
"Did you really go into the harem? And take a full hundred strokes?"
History books recorded it thus; now with Mo Jiuye returned on a panel and bloody pad, it had unfolded precisely.
Mo Jiuye gave a faint headshake. "I never entered the harem. The emperor accused me of defying orders and dealt fifty strokes."
He glanced again at the bloodied pad, then said earnestly, "Thanks to your warning and this pad, I survived the ordeal."
The memory still sent shivers through Mo Jiuye.
Escorted into the palace, just as He Zhiran warned, the emperor summoned him for an audience in the harem.
Remembering He Zhiran's repeated warnings prior to her departure, Mo Jiuye declined entry by claiming men were barred from the harem.
When events failed to proceed as planned, the emperor erupted in fury, accusing Mo Jiuye of defying imperial commands.
Though defying orders meant a death sentence, the emperor recognized punishing Mo Jiuye this way lacked justification. If the reality emerged, it would tarnish his dignity as the nation's sovereign.
Yet he refused to release Mo Jiuye unscathed. After careful consideration, he ordered fifty lashes inflicted.
Mo Jiuye escaped the full fifty strokes thanks to He Zhiran's pad, which shielded him, causing merely superficial wounds.
To keep up appearances, Mo Jiuye intentionally feigned unconsciousness and got carried back to the Duke of Protector's mansion.
Mo Jiuye suspected He Zhiran held knowledge of additional matters.
"Is there anything else happening in your dream?"
He Zhiran had awaited Mo Jiuye's proactive inquiry. Gravely, she stated, "I also dreamed that the Duke of Protector's mansion was searched and exiled."
"Searched and exiled?" Mo Jiuye's eyes flew wide, clearly stunned.
He Zhiran nodded with utmost seriousness, "If the timing aligns correctly, it occurs tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, tomorrow morning. Right after morning court commences, ministers will launch impeachments, armed with prearranged proof of your treasonous collusion with the enemy."
For some reason, Mo Jiuye harbored scant skepticism toward He Zhiran's words.
After all, omens typically preceded major events.
Such as the baffling summons to the palace tonight, followed by those fifty strokes.
Plus, Mo Jiuye wasn't utterly ignorant of certain other developments.
At that instant, Mo Jiuye plunged into intense reflection.
Whether He Zhiran's foretelling would materialize or not, he deemed advance preparations essential.
Harboring this resolve, Mo Jiuye gazed at He Zhiran.
"Dispatch a servant immediately to alert my mother and sisters-in-law. Claim I returned from the palace gravely hurt and senseless. They'll hurry here to check on me, and I'll disclose this to them then."
Strangely, Mo Jiuye placed faith in this woman he scarcely knew at this moment.
Concurrently, he upheld his stance with He Zhiran: better to trust her words existentially, even if it proved futile labor, than suffer the shock of unforeseen calamity.