Chapter 111 There is no tree that doesn’t hate bugs

Song's mother knew that the Song family had no hope.

The best outcome would be that the Song magistrate and other officials would be beheaded, and other family members would be exiled.

This is already the result of Xiliang's current majesty not liking to sit together.

In the previous dynasty, it would have been possible to kill everyone in the family, and even involve relatives.

But in the current environment, no one can guarantee that they can survive until their exile.

The environment in the prison was dirty and messy. In the year of drought in Lingzhou City, water, food and medicinal materials were in short supply. Life was already difficult before they were imprisoned, let alone now.

In the past few days alone, several people have died in the prison.

The old lady of the Song family is still holding her breath and refuses to swallow it. She just doesn't believe that her son can become a corrupt official, and she must wait until the day when the sentence is announced.

Her son had a high fever two days ago. There was no medicine and no way to call for help. Now, with his last breath, there is no way to save him.

She and her husband had children when they were old, and the children were carefully raised and could not withstand the slightest bit of wind and rain.

She cannot accept her fate.

Now that she can see her daughter, she is satisfied.

It is not easy for her daughter to come to see her. She cannot hope to save her son. The price is too high. She cannot impose this price on her daughter. In this situation, it is not easy for her daughter to survive.

So she only asked her daughter to take her son's body out. Even if it couldn't be properly buried, at least he wouldn't die in prison and be dragged out and thrown away.

Mother Song's tears had long since dried up, so she couldn't shed a single tear. After talking to Song Tanxi, she begged the jailer: "Please forgive me for loving my son and allow me to take my son's body out." Buried.”

After saying that, she turned away from Song Tanxi and kowtowed to the jailer.

Not long ago, she was still the condescending wife of the prefect. Now, she knelt down and begged the jailer so calmly, just hoping that her son's body could be sent out of the cell with dignity.

Song Tanxi had never seen her mother like this in her life. She bit her lip and shed tears.

The eldest sister is like a mother. She is seven years older than her younger brother Song Yunting and has almost watched him grow up.

She couldn't imagine that her little brother, who was only twelve years old, now, now...

The jailer didn't expect to see this scene. He looked at Qing Hui with some embarrassment and wanted to ask her for instructions.

But Qing Hui spoke first, "Pull him out."

Upon receiving the order, the jailer immediately opened the door of the cell and pulled Song Yunting out.

The boy has not yet grown up, his face is tender and fair, presumably because his mother has taken good care of him.

But his face was pale and he looked almost lifeless.

"Listen, listen," Song Tanxi turned around and rushed towards him, her hands trembling as she wanted to touch him, but she was too scared to put her hands down.

Qing Hui took one step ahead of her and put his hand on the artery in Song Yunting's neck.

After a moment, he took his wrist again.

Then he frowned.

No, it's very wrong. This is not a normal fever death.

Someone put something inside him.

Qing Hui had heard about the art of witchcraft, but didn't know much about it. She hated bugs, not only in this life, but also in her previous life, so she refused to learn this lesson.

There is no tree that does not hate bugs.

Song Yunting's current state was similar to suspended animation, but his heart was still there and he couldn't die.

"Who has he been in contact with these days, including before he was imprisoned? Has he had a similar high fever before?" Qing Hui asked Song's mother.

(End of chapter)