Zhao Jingting was deeply moved and hurriedly assured her, "I understand. I'll definitely take it."
"Wife, next time you want to go gather herbs on a cliff, let me go instead."
Su Qiao had originally wanted to wave him off and say, "There's no need. I can do it," but remembering how he kept obsessing over drinking, she changed her words at the last moment.
"You change back and forth from time to time, and your head hurts from time to time too. How could I feel at ease letting you go?"
Zhao Jingting scratched his head. "Then... then I'll try my best to take the medicine, stay clearheaded as much as possible, and get better as soon as I can."
"Wife, this illness of mine... can it really be cured?" Zhao Jingting had never imagined that his illness could still be treated.
Even the Temple Master had said that his condition was caused by an evil spirit and couldn't be cured.
There was even less need to mention the others. They all treated him like a madman.
Su Qiao encouraged him, "As long as you cooperate, you'll definitely be cured."
"I'll take the pills, but can I have some wine..."
Zhao Jingting looked at the wine jar in her arms. His craving surged again, and he unconsciously swallowed, scratching at his chest. The unbearable itch in his heart made it impossible for him to endure.
"No." Su Qiao ruthlessly cut off his thought.
Zhao Jingting hurriedly raised three fingers and promised, "Just three sips a day—one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one at night. One sip with each meal, all right?"
"If I don't drink, I really feel awful."
"Endure it even if you feel awful. Once you get through this period, you'll get used to