But now that Qiuyi is so ill, can't they spare a quilt to cover her? Qiuyi is still sick, just lying on the ground with a layer of dry grass, how could she not feel cold-hearted? Those who came to watch also knew they were behaving badly, and they avoided Qiushuang's gaze with guilt.
Nangong Shuangshuang, however, didn't care about the silent battle of glances between Qiushuang and the palace maids. She went straight over, squatted down, and took Qiuyi's pulse. Qiuyi looked very weak, her eyes half-closed, her complexion deathly pale, her body curled up as fear and pain were etched on her face.
After checking her pulse, Nangong Shuangshuang already had an idea, but still asked, "Does your stomach hurt unbearably, and you have constant diarrhea?"
Qiuyi nodded with difficulty, her lips quavering, opened and closed twice, her voice weak, "I've had diarrhea many times. I felt something was wrong last night, and this morning the diarrhea started."
