In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.
The first phase of Qingye's treatment had concluded. Although Lin Miao charged a hefty fee, he was genuinely attentive in his care.
The wounds on Qingye's back had healed, leaving only a shallow scar. There would be no more pus, and it likely wouldn't flare up in summer again.
However, there would still be some residual effects. On overcast and rainy days, or in bad weather, there would be some soreness, numbness, and swelling, but it was bearable. It was far better than before when he couldn't even lie down.
The wolf poison throughout his body had been reduced by seventy to eighty percent, thanks to Lin Miao's treatments with cupping, acupuncture, medicinal baths, and internal medications.
The remaining twenty to thirty percent was extremely stubborn and couldn't be completely eradicated in a short time—perhaps not even in a lifetime.
The poison had already penetrated deep into his bone marrow.
