Making you a son-in-law is not about making you conquer the world.

Is the old man's tea of ​​insufficient quality?

Is Meng Qingge's skill not exquisite enough?

You actually said this tea is so-so?

This is outrageous!

The old man's face immediately fell, and even Meng Qingge felt extremely displeased.

"Oh? You mean Qingge's tea wasn't good?" the old man asked with a sidelong glance, his face full of coldness.

"It's not that Qingge ordered bad tea, nor is it that the tea is of poor quality, but rather that the way you drink tea is wrong," Lin Ping explained slowly. "In my hometown, tea leaves are brewed directly with boiling water to make tea soup, preserving the original flavor and making it refreshing and palatable."

"It's just second-rate loose tea, how can it compare to Grandfather's tea?" Meng Qingge said disdainfully.

This method of drinking tea does exist among the common people, but the tea leaves that are not pressed into tea cakes are all coarse tea or loose tea, which wealthy families use to feed pigs.

Meng Qingge didn't want to discourage Lin Ping, but he took advantage of her kindness and even belittled her proud tea-making skills.

"That seems a bit absolute. What if I could brew a tea that would satisfy the old master using these second-rate loose tea leaves?" Lin Ping said with a smile, not caring about Meng Qingge's opinion of him.

"If you can truly brew a better tea, I will grant you one request." Meng Qingge glanced at Lin Ping with disdain, naturally disliking such an ambitious but incompetent person.

"Then please ask Miss Meng to find me some loose tea and a few iron pots while you're at it." Lin Ping smiled faintly, already having made up his mind.

Meng Qingge was straightforward and not afraid of someone like Lin Ping who was making a fool of himself. She stormed out of the room and went to find the loose tea and the iron pot.

"Boy, send Qingge away. Is there something you want to say?" The old man saw through Lin Ping's thoughts at a glance.

Using inferior loose tea leaves as raw materials and clumsy brewing techniques, what kind of tea can one possibly produce? This is obviously just him trying to create a mystery.

"Grandpa is indeed discerning; nothing can escape your notice." Lin Ping chuckled, not wanting to argue further, as he didn't have much time left.

"Speak, what is it that you have to keep from Qingge?" The old man's eyes were bright and piercing, but his withered body was somewhat frightening, as if he were about to burn out at any moment.

Without further ado, Lin Ping's expression turned serious. "If I'm not mistaken, your illness is diabetes."

The old man's expression clearly faltered slightly as he stared at Lin Ping with surprise.

Wasn't he just a poor country boy? How come he knows medicine? Besides, he didn't even take his own pulse.

“Observation, auscultation, inquiry, and palpation—if you are proficient in any one of these, you can find the illness. Your symptoms are all written on your face,” Lin Ping explained.

He originally intended to deceive the old man and try not to reveal his medical skills, but he also felt that the old man was not so easy to fool, so he decided to be more truthful.

“That’s right, I had the imperial physician examine me, and it is indeed diabetes.” The old man said in a low voice, “The imperial physician said I have three months left, so please don’t tell Qingge about this.”

"Three months? Quack doctor!" Lin Ping spat out a mouthful of phlegm in disdain, hating quack doctors who mislead people the most.

"This illness causes excessive thirst, urination, and appetite, and will make you thin and tired." In order to gain the old man's full trust, Lin Ping had to reveal his true skills.

"You figured that out too?" The old man's eyes widened in surprise, and a glimmer of hope even appeared.

If Lin Ping had no other options, he wouldn't have gone to all this trouble; perhaps it would have allowed him to live a few more days.

He didn't care how long he could live; he only hoped to see Meng Qingfan inherit the throne.

“Your diabetes has entered the later stages, which is indeed quite troublesome,” Lin Ping said, frowning.

In the later stages of diabetes, pancreatic function was almost completely lost, requiring regular insulin injections, but he had no insulin on hand.

"The imperial physicians all said that this disease is incurable, but Qingge refused to accept her fate and searched everywhere for a miracle doctor. Not long ago, she heard that there was a miracle doctor in Wu Kingdom who might be able to cure this disease. However, this miracle doctor is probably just a name without substance. If there really were a way to bring the dead back to life, how could emperors have died one after another?"

As he got older, he saw things more clearly. The old man shook his head and said, "I'm already up to my neck in the earth, I can't keep going anymore. As long as you young people are healthy, I can die in peace."

Lin Ping smiled faintly, took two steps forward, took out a few silver needles from the leather bag, and said, "Bringing the dead back to life is indeed unrealistic, but miraculous healing is still possible."

"You're going to give me acupuncture?" The old man was clearly somewhat resistant. "Don't waste your energy. My body is almost ruined by those quack doctors. It's of no use."

Lin Ping moved with incredible speed, and before the old man could react, he had already inserted the silver needles into his flesh.

"You yourself said they are all quacks, so let me give it a try," Lin Ping explained.

The silver needles had already pierced his flesh, so the old man didn't need to resist. However, he was still a little shocked when he saw that the silver needles were completely embedded in his flesh.

Generally speaking, silver needles are used to stimulate acupoints and are not inserted too deeply to avoid damaging internal organs.

Lin Ping's target was his pancreas, because only when stimulated by the silver needles could the pancreas possibly secrete some insulin.

The feeling of being penetrated from within is not pleasant. The old man's eyebrows furrowed, but even so, he did not utter a single word of pain.

After a moment, Lin Ping pulled out the silver needles and shook his head helplessly, saying, "Your pancreatic function is almost completely lost, so the effect of acupuncture is not obvious."

The old man had already guessed this would be the outcome, and smiled calmly, "It's alright, I didn't have much hope anyway."

Before he could finish speaking, a warm current flowed through his body, and he immediately felt much more comfortable.

Lin Ping's statement that the effect was not obvious does not mean that it had no effect at all. After being stimulated by the silver needles, some insulin was secreted.

"This is..." The old man stared at Lin Ping in horror, his eyes flashing with a long-lost light.

"Don't panic. This is insulin breaking down sugars. Your condition will improve temporarily, but this disease is incurable. You will need long-term injections, and even insulin injections. You also need to pay attention to your diet," Lin Ping continued to explain.

"Can I live for three years? No, no, no, two years will do too," the old man asked excitedly.

"You're overthinking it."

Upon hearing this, the light in the old man's eyes dimmed again.

"What I mean is, you're overthinking things and putting too much pressure on yourself. Let alone three years, if you take good care of yourself, you could live to be a hundred and die a natural death," Lin Ping said, panting heavily.

The old man is only sixty years old. If he really lives to be a hundred, wouldn't he have more than thirty years of life ahead of him?

Even though he had become indifferent to life and death, he still couldn't resist the excitement in his heart.

"How should we pay attention to our diet?" the old man asked hurriedly, grasping the key point.

"This illness requires avoiding sweets, and especially avoiding eating too much of them. After all, steamed buns contain a lot of starch, which can be converted into sugars. In other words, you can't eat sweets in the future, and you need to control your food intake," Lin Ping said earnestly.

"Of course, of course. I've had my fill of good food in my life, a little less won't hurt." The old man laughed heartily.