He's in love.
Unbeknownst to Yao Ziyang, he had managed to capture and tame his favorite character in the short time he had traveled over. The bubbly and pink tinted atmosphere didn't last long, however.
Throughout the whole time Yao Ziyang was talking, he felt his body becoming colder, and his vision was beginning to blur even further. Their loving moment was interrupted as Yao Ziyang couldn't withstand the ache any longer and fainted, falling back onto the soft bed.
Witnessing as Yao Ziyang collapsed, Dong Yingming felt an immediate rise of panic in his heart. His whole body turned cold, as if he were splashed with a bucket of ice water. Without a second of hesitation, he rushes to his cell door and bangs on it with all his strength, creating sizable dents upon its steel surface. For the first time since he arrived, he yelled in obvious fear.
"Hurry! Get Dr. Zhang here! Now! Yao Ziyang fainted!"
The suddenness of Dong Yingming's order and unusual tone stunned the two guards who stood at attention by the door. Hearing no movements from the other side, Dong Yingming's previous panic switched to visceral rage! He banged harder against the metal, wishing it were the faces of these guards and spitefully voiced.
"If you don't get the doctor here in 5 minutes, the warden is going to have two fewer guards to keep on payroll!"
This would have sounded like a threat of firing the persons in question if spoken by anyone else, but when Dong Yingming—the city's Emperor of the Underground—spoke them, it could only mean one thing. Certain death. The kind where you wouldn't even have known how you had died and your family wouldn't be able to give you a proper burial. Trembling in fear, a sudden sharp "Now!" jolted them out of their stupor. One guard finally manages to move his feet and practically flies down the halls towards the prison infirmary.
In 4 minutes and 58 seconds, the clacking of shoes hitting the stone floors could be heard approaching. As the cell door swings open, Dong Yingming can be seen lying on his cushioned bed, and in his arms is Yao Ziyang, lovingly wrapped in a dark red blanket—soft, warm, and heavy like comfort itself. The fabric clings gently to his damp skin, its deep crimson color rich and calming, like the last glow of a fire before it fades to embers. It smells faintly of something familiar—clean linen, maybe a trace of Dong Yingming's cologne, something earthy and quiet. Truly embodying the statement of 'going from rags to riches' in a single night.
Dong Yingming didn't have much time to dress both himself and Yao Ziyang before the doctor arrived so he chose to dress the latter in the loose prison clothes from the night before while he stayed in his plush white bathrobe. He would have to get his man new, tailored prison clothes soon, ones that can help keep him warm. He'll put in the order once the young man gets over this sickness.
Seeing how intimate the two men were, Zhang Wei felt it was inappropriate for him to be here. Yet, before he could turn around and leave, the door had already closed. Dong Yingming didn't bother to look up. He kept his soft gaze only on Yao Ziyang's reddened face, his heart ached unbearably with each labored, raspy breath the youth took. He wished he were the one sick rather than this ill-fated man in his arms. Impatiently, he speaks his command, his voice filled with urgency and worry.
"He suddenly fainted. Quickly, check on him. Make him well!"
Seeing no other choice, Zhang Wei makes his way over with his bulky medical bag. Just by looking at the young man, Zhang Wei could only chastise himself for not specifying the importance of rest and abstaining from nighttime activities when one is sick! To think this devil incarnate didn't let the young man rest for even a day before putting his hands on him! Sighing, he began to do his work.
Taking out a stethoscope from his bag, he listens to Yao Ziyang's heart, which was a tad muffled as his clothes acted as a barrier. However, with the way Dong Yingming glared at him, he dared not touch the patient so casually, but he had no choice when it came to taking Yao Ziyang's pulse. Slow and weak, exactly what he feared. Stepping back, Zhang Wei clears his throat to mediate the awkwardness, slipping off the listening device, he begins to rummage through his bag. Pulling out a white jade pill bottle and thermos, he hands the bottle to Dong Yingming and explains.
"This patient has a very delicate physique. An excess of Yin energy is being stored within his body. He's susceptible to getting sick easily and needs constant monitoring to ensure he doesn't catch something he can't recover from. I can not stress enough how much rest and relaxation he needs at this time to be able to recover. For a weakened immune system, the first priority is reducing risk and building up the body's baseline defenses."
Seeing that Dong Yingming had yet to respond to his obvious nagging, Zhang Wei grew bolder. A man who knew to take a mile when given an inch, he continued his lecture. Dr. Zhang stood beside the bed, the faint scent of moxa clinging to his coat. His posture was calm, dignified, his tone thoughtful as he began. Pulling out a small note pad from his coat pocket, he juggles the thermos and note pad, completely marring any semblance of noble prestige he could have garnered
"What should have been a quick two days will now take at most two weeks of nothing but rest! The patient's immune system is weakened—deficient, in both the Western sense and the traditional Chinese understanding. But in zhongyi—traditional Chinese medicine—his wei qi, or defensive energy, is depleted. That protective barrier the body relies on to fend off external pathogens… it's thin and unstable. To restore it, we must nourish both the qi and the blood."
He paused, then gently tapped the side of his note pad with one knuckle. Dr. Zhang motioned subtly to a white jade bottle he had given Dong Yingming, then held up a small thermos of herbal decoction he took from his bag. This was given to him by his master, Miao Ruiming, a few months ago after he had visited his past patient.
He was told this decoction is mixed with mountain spring water and is very good at healing. He fully trusted every word his mentor said and had carried it around. It never went bad, thus furthering his belief in its magical properties. Little did he realize this was given to Miao Ruiming by Ming Liuyi when he had gotten a cold. The spiritual spring water she used in the medicine is what gave it its magical healing properties while everything else was just regular herbal ingredients.
"I've prescribed a formula based on the patient's last examination. Let him continue to take the rest of the pills, the new ones in the white jade bottle are essentially the same, just more fine-tuned to his needs. This formula in the thermos has been used for centuries to strengthen the lungs and bolster wei qi. I've also added a touch of reishi mushroom—for immune modulation and wolfberry to nourish the liver and improve vitality. One pill in the morning, herbal decoction in the afternoon, then one pill at night before bed."
He looked at Yao Ziyang now, his voice softening.
"Rest is crucial. So is warmth. The body heals best when the internal fire is tended—warm meals, no cold drinks, and a calm mind. Stress stagnates the qi. I'll also begin doing tuina massages for the back and shoulders to support circulation and possibly acupuncture at key points—Zusanli, Qihai, and Feishu—to stimulate the immune meridians."
He straightened slightly, his presence quiet but firm.
"This is not only about fighting illness. It's about restoring harmony—between the organs, between mind and body, between the external world and the internal one. The strength will come, but it must be nurtured, not forced."
Zhang Wei then gave a slight bow of the head, a gesture of humility and assurance. He looked up, making sure Dong Yingming was following what he was saying.
"I'll also prescribe a course of low-dose immune modulators. It helps regulate immune responses, especially in cases where the system is underactive. In some patients, it can improve white blood cell activity without overstimulating the body. In addition, he'll be on a daily regimen of zinc and vitamin D3—simple, but essential. Zinc helps the immune cells communicate properly, and vitamin D can modulate the immune response, especially in viral and respiratory defense."
His eyes were steady and serious. His grip on the thermos tightened slightly before relaxing once more. He spoke with more conviction this time as he looked into Dong Yingming's sharp gaze.
"And of course: hydration, nutrition, and rest. No medicine works well in a body that's exhausted."
Then, with a quieter tone:
"This isn't a sprint. It's a steady, careful process. We support the system, protect it, and give it time to rebuild."
He gave a small, thoughtful nod.
"I'll be monitoring Yao Ziyang closely. If anything changes, I will adjust. I am not just treating symptoms—I am trying to strengthen the foundation."
As he spoke his final thoughts, he carefully placed the thermos on the nightstand by the bed.