“You’re the Mister Xu who saved His Majesty?”
Before him stood Shun Consort, whose appearance was gentle and composed, her entire aura calm and unruffled—her character immediately evident at a glance.
“I am Xu Ping’an, your humble servant, greeting Lady Consort Shun.”
“Mister Xu, no need for formalities. You saved His Majesty—that alone is a feat beyond measure. Besides, you are Pei Sect Leader’s direct disciple. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, Lady Consort.”
Xu Ping’an nodded in gratitude and sat down beside her.
He wasn’t in a rush to examine the little princess but instead began observing her complexion and voice carefully, planning a detailed course of treatment.
“Zhier, why haven’t you greeted Mister Xu yet? This is the divine doctor your father insisted on bringing here.”
“Yes, Mother Consort.”
Only then did the little girl finally turn around.
A glance revealed her crescent-shaped eyebrows, slightly drooping, with large, round eyes, a straight, prominent nose, and lips a little small but well balanced.
Though still young, her oval face already showed hints of maturity.
In no more than a year or two, this little girl would surely blossom into another breathtaking beauty of the realm.
“Zhier greets Mister Xu.”
“Princess Yuan Le, no need for such formality. Please, sit.”
Xu Ping’an hadn’t expected that the princess’s first gesture upon turning around would be a deep bow with her palms pressed together.
Even senior ministers would not dare offer such respect to a mere healer like him, much less a young common doctor.
He hurriedly stood and waved his hands, unable to step forward to assist, so he shuffled awkwardly to avoid the princess’s bow.
“Zhier! Mister Xu is a subject, how can he accept your bow? Quickly rise, look at how you scared him!”
Shun Consort’s voice carried a trace of urgency, and only then did the princess realize and retract her bow. Her delicate fingers nervously twined together, her face pale as she stammered:
“Mister, Zhier—I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Enough, Princess. No need to be so nervous. Please calm down first.”
Xu Ping’an glanced at the little girl before him. Judging by her voice and complexion, he could already tell quite a bit.
This young lady was not suffering from a serious illness—only mild anemia.
Well, maybe more than mild.
Shun Consort looked at Xu Ping’an in surprise. Normally, any court official would have knelt profusely by this point.
Yet Xu Ping’an made no move to bow, not even the slightest bend of the waist when he first saw her.
That alone made Shun Consort feel that this man was somewhat arrogant.
However, his demeanor did not match arrogance.
His speech was gentle and refined, which made her unsure what kind of person this young man, who had already achieved such an extraordinary feat at a young age, truly was.
His calm appearance was hardly that of a wandering street doctor.
He looked more like a well-educated scholar.
“Lady Consort, I have a rough diagnosis of the princess’s condition, but I need to take her pulse to confirm. Please allow me.”
“Of course. Send someone to prepare a wrist pillow.”
Soon, several palace maids entered in two lines, some carrying basins, others holding implements.
One maid brought a wooden basin before Xu Ping’an.
“Please, Mister, cleanse your hands.”
“Very well, thank you.”
Without hesitation, Xu Ping’an rose and washed his hands thoroughly in the basin.
Then he took the towel from a second maid and dried them.
On the other side, Princess Zhier had already seated herself.
A maid approached, wiped her wrist, then placed a wrist pillow on the table, covering it with two layers of thin gauze.
Seeing this, Xu Ping’an sighed inwardly but sat steadily, reaching under the gauze to her jade wrist.
Pressing lightly, he hardly needed to concentrate to confirm that the princess’s anemia was severe—astonishingly so.
He hesitated slightly, withdrew his hand from the pulse, and looked toward Shun Consort.
“May I ask, Lady Consort, if I might inspect the princess’s daily diet?”
“Certainly. Someone, bring the meal schedule.”
A scroll soon landed in Xu Ping’an’s hands.
Seeing him study it carefully, Shun Consort softly asked:
“The palace’s inner court meals are strictly timed and portioned. There shouldn’t be any issues with her diet, right?”
Xu Ping’an looked up at her and shook his head. Then he studied the schedule again, frowning slightly.
“Princess, do you tend to eat mostly vegetarian food?”
Princess Zhier blinked, somewhat surprised by the question, then nodded.
“Um… I…”
“That’s not her fault. This girl has always been frail since childhood, so I have arranged more vegetarian dishes for her daily. Mister Xu, is there something wrong with this meal plan?”
“There are quite a few problems.”
Xu Ping’an, unconcerned with her status or favor, spoke frankly:
“The princess’s illness is directly related to this menu.”
“How can that be? Isn’t vegetarian food supposed to be good?”
Xu Ping’an shook his head and handed the menu back to the maid before turning to Shun Consort.
“Lady Consort, vegetarian food cannot simply be called good. I don’t know if you follow certain doctrines or deities, but I can assure you, the princess’s condition stems from this vegetarian diet.”
According to this menu, the little princess only ate two meals with meat a week.
For an ordinary person, that might not be a big problem, but the princess’s constitution was poor. If I read the pulse correctly, she was probably born prematurely.
In this era, surviving premature birth was already difficult.
Her body was naturally deficient, requiring proper nourishment afterward.
But Lady Consort seems to believe strictly in vegetarianism, which has led to the princess’s severe anemia.
At thirteen and a half, soon to be fourteen, she still looked like an eleven- or twelve-year-old child.
Her anemia was so serious that even normal metabolism was difficult.
If this continued, she might lose her fertility before reaching adulthood.
“Could the doctor’s diagnosis be mistaken? Why haven’t the imperial physicians mentioned this before?”
Xu Ping’an glanced at Shun Consort, feeling some helplessness but answered patiently:
“Those imperial physicians likely feared offending your status or beliefs, so they have been cautious with their words. Moreover… in the palace, as long as nothing serious happens, that is considered success. I suspect those physicians have been extremely careful with medicine, perhaps hinting at issues with the princess’s diet, but you probably didn’t take it seriously.”
Shun Consort was stunned. In all her years in the palace, aside from His Majesty, no one else had spoken to her so candidly.
She was at a loss for how to respond.
Xu Ping’an, however, did not care.
After all, he planned to leave in a few days and wouldn’t be serving these concubines any longer.
He wasn’t afraid of offending anyone.
“For most people, a vegetarian diet might feel refreshing. With your noble status, no hard labor or scholarly toil, your energy consumption is low. One or two meat dishes a week suffice.”
“But the princess is different.”
“If I read the pulse correctly, she was born at least a month premature, with an inherently weaker constitution. Naturally, she needs additional nourishment.”
“For an adult like you, a couple fewer meat dishes aren’t a problem, but for the princess—still growing—lack of meat means weakened qi and blood.”
He paused and, ignoring the princess’s presence, continued bluntly:
“Normally, she should have reached menarche by now, but she hasn’t shown any signs. Her stature is smaller than her peers. All this results from insufficient nutrition.”
To be honest, Xu Ping’an felt uncomfortable criticizing a mother who, out of ignorance, imposed such ‘good intentions’ on her child, so he spoke more plainly.
“From today onward, the princess must have a meat dish at every meal.
“Every three days, include a dish made from pig or beef liver, accompanied by medicinal broths.
“In less than three months, her health will improve significantly.”
Though Xu Ping’an did not use harsh words, as a subject openly admonishing a favored consort, this was already crossing a line.
Shun Consort was both embarrassed and angry but held her temper with grace and asked:
“Mister Xu, can you guarantee this?”
“Of course. If you don’t trust me, you may consult the imperial physicians. I believe they won’t conceal anything from you.”
Shun Consort paused, about to speak again, but Xu Ping’an was already standing.
“Since the diagnosis is complete and the prescriptions are made, as an outsider, I shouldn’t overstay. Lady Consort Shun, I take my leave.”
Before Shun Consort could respond, Xu Ping’an turned and walked away.
But just as he reached the door, a soft voice called out behind him.
“Mister…”
Xu Ping’an knew at once it was the little princess. He turned back to look at her.
“Does the princess have any further instructions?”
The princess’s face was nervous, but she forced herself to nod politely.
“Thank you for your care, Mister.”
This little girl was better than expected—at least she hadn’t bowed deeply again, or he might have fled on the spot.
“Princess, focus on your recovery. In a few months, you will be as healthy as anyone else.”
He said no more and left, unaware that the princess’s large, watery eyes remained fixed on his retreating figure until he passed through the Gate of Eternal Harmony and disappeared around the corner.
Only then did she lower her gaze.
Watching this, Shun Consort looked from her daughter back to the door where the figure had vanished and quietly bowed her head in thought.
Xu Ping’an, for his part, gave no thought to the Palace of Eternal Harmony’s matters—it was just another routine treatment for him.
Yet, just outside the gate, Xiao Shunzi quietly asked:
“Mister, what do you think of the princess?”