Wei Wei knew very little about this Crown Prince Edward. Although they had met a few times before, there had been hardly any meaningful interaction. Due to his poor health, the crown prince rarely appeared in public, so the information Wei Wei had about him was extremely limited.
All she knew for certain was that the crown prince was about to turn nineteen this year. He was physically frail and prone to illness if not careful, but undeniably intelligent—a sickly prodigy, so to speak.
This young crown prince had the distinctive red hair and green eyes of the royal family. His features bore a seven- or eight-tenths resemblance to Prince Andrew, but the remaining two to three-tenths of difference made their overall impressions drastically different.
If Prince Andrew, slightly chubby and plain-looking, gave off the impression of an honest, perhaps even somewhat dim-witted man, then the tall and slender Crown Prince Edward was the picture of elegance and intelligence—a melancholy young noble who easily inspired pity.
Sickly, pale, and graceful—he was the very embodiment of the fragile noble youth people imagined.
Of course, he wasn't just any noble youth—he was a prince.
Normally, someone so frequently ill—especially someone born into privilege—would easily develop a bad temper. But not Crown Prince Edward. His good temperament was as well-known as his poor health.
Unlike Adonis, who only put on a facade of politeness, Edward truly treated everyone with kindness and respect. It was common knowledge that this prince rarely lost his temper. Even toward Queen Mirabelle, his stepmother, whose indirect involvement had led to his birth mother's death, the worst he did was remain cold and avoid conversation. He had never once spoken harshly to her.
In contrast, Wei Wei had vaguely heard that Prince Andrew—who always seemed like a good-tempered man—had once scolded Queen Mirabelle to her face when she first joined the royal family. At the time, she was still very much in the king's favor and even went to him to complain. But perhaps out of guilt, the king only offered a few words of comfort and didn't punish Prince Andrew.
Now, Prince Andrew did nothing more than ignore Mirabelle. His attitude toward Wei Wei, however, was significantly more cordial—especially after learning that she had saved his father's life. He was particularly grateful to her.
But perhaps because of their difference in status, Wei Wei always found Crown Prince Edward's gaze on her strangely benevolent, as if he were looking at a younger family member. Combined with his not-yet-fully-matured youthful features, the effect was eerie enough to send a chill down her spine.
Fortunately, Crown Prince Edward seemed to notice her discomfort and quickly averted his gaze.
Since they weren't familiar with each other, and the king's illness was not a topic to be casually brought up, the conversation didn't last long. After a few polite exchanges, Wei Wei signaled for Edward to extend his hand.
The prince rolled up his sleeve and placed his wrist on the small cushion used for pulse diagnosis. Up close, his hand appeared even more delicate and thin—almost just skin stretched over bone.
Wei Wei began checking his pulse, her expression gradually growing more serious.
When the king had suggested that Edward might also have been poisoned, Wei Wei had been skeptical. Before the prince arrived, she had already asked the steward for a detailed report on his health. Based on that and her previous observations during their brief encounters, she had determined that Edward suffered from respiratory issues, with possibly significant heart and lung complications. These diagnoses had also been confirmed by the royal physicians, which explained why he had always been advised to keep his emotions in check—a major factor contributing to his even temperament.
Indeed, when Edward was young, his condition had improved significantly under the royal physicians' care. His illness had been brought under control to the point that he was only slightly weaker than a normal person. However, when he was around nine years old, the former queen—his birth mother—passed away suddenly after years of being bedridden. Shortly thereafter, Edward relapsed, and his condition deteriorated into what it was now.
Given that Edward was already advised against emotional upheaval, it wasn't surprising that he'd fall ill from grief. His worsening health seemed like a natural consequence.
So, when the king had made that comment, Wei Wei couldn't help but think: didn't he realize that it was his actions that had led to the prince's current state? The former queen's death, in essence, was because he had promised the throne to Queen Mirabelle. When the former queen found out, her condition worsened suddenly. Had she been allowed proper rest, it was said she could have lived for another two years.
Yes, Queen Mirabelle took advantage of the situation—but before her, the king had already had several mistresses, and their existence hadn't worsened the queen's condition. Ultimately, it was the king's promise that pushed her over the edge.
This was also why Wei Wei had considered the possibility that one or both princes might bear a grudge against the king and poison him in revenge for their mother.
Of course, as she had discussed with Felix, unless the princes were incredibly foolish, they wouldn't sabotage the king while he was actively working to eliminate Duke Romanov for their benefit.
So she still believed Queen Mirabelle was the most likely suspect.
But back to the matter at hand—the crown prince.
Wei Wei had originally assumed that his health had declined purely due to grief over his mother's death. After all, if someone had poisoned him back then, that would've been nearly eight or nine years ago. If it had been under Duke Romanov's orders, there was no way Edward could have survived this long.
Yet, after taking his pulse, Wei Wei realized something truly was off.
Her medical skills came from the system—originating from a game—which made her akin to a miracle doctor. Her fingers could detect even the faintest irregularities in a pulse.
And just now, she detected signs of a congenital heart issue. However, it was extremely mild, had been properly treated in his early years, and had been well-maintained ever since. As long as he didn't overwork himself, this condition was hardly a concern.
The more serious issue was his asthma. This could have been genetic or caused by respiratory illness or allergies. When Wei Wei asked the prince about it, he confirmed that seasonal changes often triggered attacks. Staying indoors helped reduce the frequency, which was also why he rarely participated in public events.
"So before an episode, did you come into contact with flowers, plants, or trees?" she asked.
Edward thought for a moment. "Yes, that's right. Dr. Bartel also warned me to avoid flowering plants." (Bartel was the royal physician.)
"He was right. What you have is likely allergic asthma. Contact with pollen or plant particles easily triggers your symptoms, so you'll need to be especially careful."
"But sometimes," Edward said with a puzzled look, "even when I don't go near any of those things, I still have mild symptoms—like coughing or shortness of breath."
"That means, in addition to pollen, you probably have other allergens." Wei Wei made a mental note of this.
Aside from asthma, which could be life-threatening if neglected, Edward also had digestive issues that impaired nutrient absorption, leading to malnutrition and anemia. Combined with various minor ailments brought on by these conditions, it was no wonder that public opinion believed he wouldn't live past thirty.
Whether he could even make it to twenty-five was questionable. People had once thought he'd die before twenty—now he was nearly nineteen and still clinging to life. That was already thanks to the tireless efforts of the royal physicians. But with the current level of medical knowledge, he could probably hold on for only a few more years.
Despite still having the strength to handle foreign affairs, Edward couldn't overexert himself. Just half a month of administrative work had already begun to trigger symptoms. If it continued, he might end up bedridden like the king—and no one could say whether he'd survive that.
But that wasn't what made Wei Wei's expression turn grim.
The real reason was this: she had discovered that Edward had indeed been poisoned.
Though it seemed to have happened only once, the poison had disrupted his internal balance, worsened his condition, and rendered all the physicians' previous efforts useless.
Wei Wei suspected that while his initial relapse had indeed been triggered by grief over his mother's death, the illness could have been stabilized with proper treatment. Instead, his condition had deteriorated severely—almost fatally.
And the poison—or rather, the drug—was the same one the king had been given.
Had Wei Wei not seen the king first and understood the symptoms caused by this secret drug, and had she not been so meticulous due to the king's request, she might not have noticed the subtle abnormalities in Edward's already poor pulse. After all, the drug had been administered so long ago.
—So, if Queen Mirabelle had poisoned the king, did that mean Crown Prince Edward had also suffered because of her?
Although she had just uncovered a major secret through his pulse, Wei Wei didn't show any change in demeanor. She quickly relaxed her brow and gave Crown Prince Edward a reassuring smile. "Your condition is a bit complicated, but still within manageable limits. From now on, please cooperate with my treatment, Your Highness."
Crown Prince Edward calmly nodded. "Alright."
He had seen countless doctors in his life. Almost every single one of them had said something similar, but he knew very well—it was just to comfort him.
So he didn't take Wei Wei's words to heart either, assuming she was just trying to soothe him.
That said, Edward was fully aware of how fragile his body was. Though he hated taking medicine, he also knew he had no right to be willful.
In the end, switching from one kind of medicine to another didn't make much difference.
Of course, if he knew what kind of decisions the King was now enjoying under Wei Wei's care, he might not have been so indifferent.
Wei Wei continued to give him various instructions, even picking up a pen and writing down a detailed list of precautions. Aside from avoiding plants that could trigger allergic reactions, Edward's living quarters would need to be kept especially clean and dry, well-ventilated, and preferably sunlit. Everything—especially clothes and bedding—should be regularly washed, sun-dried, and disinfected. After all, dust mites were also a major trigger for asthma.
She also wrote out a full list of foods he could and couldn't eat.
"It's best to add in some light exercise, like walking or slow jogging," Wei Wei said as she wrote. "But avoid strenuous activities."
In no time, she had filled several sheets of paper with detailed instructions.
Finally, she told the Crown Prince that if he wanted to go outside for walks, he could wear a mask. As for what a "mask" was, she would have the maids make one for him and deliver it.
When Edward took that stack of papers, his eyes looked almost blank. He had always known his condition was complex and required careful attention, but he'd never imagined it was to this extent.
Take food, for example. While he had always been told to eat a bland diet, the doctors had mostly focused on limiting cooking methods. They hadn't paid much attention to the ingredients themselves—largely because the medical understanding at the time was still rudimentary. They simply didn't have a clear concept of what specific foods were unsuitable for someone with his ailments.
So apart from lightly seasoned, stewed meals, there weren't many specific dietary restrictions in place.
But on Wei Wei's list, the very first item banned was lamb—the most commonly eaten meat in the palace. Then came chicken, fish, eggs, seafood, leeks, peaches, and almost all dairy products. By the end, not knowing much about the aristocracy's more exotic culinary habits, Wei Wei directly wrote down: "Avoid foods like otter, swan, and camel."
Edward stared at the food "blacklist" for a long while, then finally snapped out of his daze. Clutching the list, he looked at Wei Wei, as if trying to plead his case. "But I've eaten all of these before and never had a problem. Isn't this list a bit... too much?"
Looking at all the foods he couldn't have, he wasn't even sure what was left to eat.
Wei Wei reassured him, "Don't worry. This list is for the kitchen staff—it doesn't mean you can never eat anything on it. But we need to identify your allergens. So starting now, we'll isolate one or more items from this list every two weeks. Once we confirm they're not causing issues, you can eat them again. Of course, even then, it's best not to overindulge."
She hadn't even finished writing all the problematic foods. For example, she hadn't included soy or peanuts since those weren't widely consumed yet. But just in case, she included "legumes"—which for now mainly referred to kidney beans and chickpeas.
Wei Wei understood that Edward's allergens were likely not that extensive. Otherwise, he wouldn't have survived this long. But without modern medical instruments, the only option was manual elimination and testing. The process would be long, but eventually, they'd figure out what other allergens he had besides pollen.
To be honest, if she weren't trying to keep a low profile, Wei Wei wouldn't have bothered writing out such a long, intimidating list. She would've just gone straight to the steward and the chefs and told them what not to serve him. Although Edward might feel like there was nothing left to eat beyond this list, the truth was there were still plenty of safe options—he just didn't know that himself.
In the end, although Crown Prince Edward looked reluctant, he was still convinced and prepared to leave with the stack of papers.
Wei Wei thought for a moment and then took back the few sheets listing the food restrictions, smiling as she said, "I'll hand these directly to the steward to make the arrangements."
Crown Prince Edward: !!!
She must have realized he was planning to rewrite the list himself after returning, secretly removing a few of his favorite foods!
(Wei Wei: (*￣︶￣) Even the most obedient child will try to act out sometimes. My skill at reading people isn't just for show. Crown Prince Edward is still a bit too green.)
The guilty prince didn't dare say a word. With a darker expression, he drifted away like a gloomy ghost.
After watching him leave, the smile on Wei Wei's face faded, startling the nearby maids.
"Madam, is something wrong?" Penny asked nervously. She had rarely seen such a cold and grim expression on Wei Wei's face—it was genuinely frightening.
Wei Wei shook her head, glanced at her son—now napping peacefully on the bed under the maids' watch—and lifted her skirt as she rose to her feet. "I'm going to see His Majesty. Keep an eye on Anthony."
"Yes, Madam."
She had purposely waited a while before leaving. By now, Crown Prince Edward had already left the royal chambers. The steward was still stationed at the door, and as she rounded the corner, he spotted her.
"Good afternoon, Countess."
"Good afternoon." Wei Wei nodded and asked, "Is His Majesty available now?"
"Of course. His Majesty instructed that you be shown in once the Crown Prince had left." The steward opened the door for her.
As expected, the king was still awake inside the room—waiting for her.
"Good afternoon, Your Majesty."
"Good afternoon, Madam."
Wei Wei curtsied. Before she could even rise, the king urgently asked, "How is Edward's condition?"
Wei Wei glanced at the steward and servants in the room. The king waved a hand, and the servants quickly withdrew. Only the steward was allowed to remain—it was clear the king wanted him to hear this as well.
Knowing that now wasn't the time to shock the king too harshly, Wei Wei first explained the prince's illness: "His Highness has heart and lung issues, but they're well under control. As long as he's careful, it doesn't interfere much with daily life. His asthma is allergy-induced, and as long as we can identify and eliminate the allergens, episodes will be greatly reduced. As for his malnutrition and anemia, I can treat those as well. So if the Crown Prince is willing to cooperate with treatment, gets enough rest, and doesn't overexert himself, he may not fully recover, but he'll be able to live like an ordinary person."
Of course, only someone like her—with cheat-like knowledge a thousand years ahead of her peers and access to extensive data—could make such a promise. Any other physician would have already written the Crown Prince off as doomed.
The king had long been tormented by his son's condition. Edward was the heir he'd personally nurtured and pinned his hopes on. The idea that Edward might die before him was unbearable. Yet every doctor had told him just that, over and over again, until he had become numb. He had even started making contingency plans, considering his youngest son and potential future grandchildren as backups—anything to keep Duke Romanov from getting the throne.
Now, someone had finally told him that his son could be saved. The long-cherished hope that he had nearly abandoned was suddenly within reach—and the king could hardly believe his ears.
"You're saying Edward... he can be saved? He won't die young?"
Wei Wei shook her head at first but then realized the context of this era. She nodded and clarified, "I can't promise he'll live to a ripe old age, but living into his fifties or sixties is entirely possible."
To Wei Wei, anything beyond seventy or eighty counted as old age. Dying in one's fifties or sixties would still be considered premature.
But for the king, that was already more than enough. Many healthy people didn't even live that long—let alone someone with Edward's condition. Royal physicians had once said he might not even make it to twenty. Even now, with more optimism, most assumed he'd be dead by thirty.
So when Wei Wei shook her head, the king thought she was about to echo the same grim prognosis. But her next words completely overturned his expectations. He was so overwhelmed with joy that he almost leaped from the bed.
If he weren't still sick and if Wei Wei weren't a woman, he might have hugged her right then and there.
Even the steward's eyes turned red with emotion. If Wei Wei was right, they no longer had to fear a future without an heir to the throne.
Still, the steward dutifully reminded the king, "Please calm down, Your Majesty. Your condition doesn't allow for such excitement."
"You're right. I must remain calm," the king said, trying to rein in his emotions. He remembered what Wei Wei had said: Edward's treatment would take years and required rest. He couldn't afford to collapse again. He needed to recover soon and resume state affairs so that his son could focus on healing.
Once he seemed to have calmed, Wei Wei continued, "Your Majesty, what I'm about to say next is likely something you've already suspected. But I need you to promise me that you won't get too upset."
The king, now composed, remembered why he had asked her to treat Edward in the first place. He suspected this next part wouldn't be good news.
He took several deep breaths to steady himself and nodded. "You may speak."
"As you feared, His Highness was indeed poisoned," Wei Wei said, watching his expression carefully. "It was likely only once, but it's the main reason for his deteriorating health."
"And the poison he was given... is the same kind as yours."
The king's face darkened with every word. The earlier joy vanished completely. By the end, his expression was black as thunder.
"Damn it! It was—It was actually—!!!"
He was too furious to speak clearly. His face twisted in fury, the regal authority of a long-time ruler radiating from him like a storm.