Chapter 57

The receding trend of the Nile floodwaters became increasingly evident. Simultaneously, reports emerged from several cities along the riverbanks regarding people dying from mysterious causes, and this illness was confirmed to be highly contagious.

Another critical reason Edith had chosen to slip away from Thebes was to personally handle this crisis.

The reconstruction of the Nile waterway was imminent, the sowing season was fast approaching, and at the borders, Inanhote and the Assyrians were watching like tigers stalking their prey. If this epidemic could not be contained…

Edith paused here, gazing at the towering city walls in the distance, her eyes momentarily drifting.

Ye Zhiqing listened quietly. Her brows furrowed. After a flood, under the harsh conditions of Ancient Egypt—constant high temperatures and humidity—mosquitoes and insects would swarm. In areas with poor living conditions and low hygiene awareness, the outbreak of various infectious diseases was highly probable.

The first thing that leaped into Ye Zhiqing’s mind was malaria.

In 1771, Italian doctors were the first to suggest that malaria was always prevalent in damp, swampy areas swarming with mosquitoes and would vanish once drained. It wasn’t until 1897 that a British biologist first proved that malaria was transmitted by the bites of mosquitoes carrying the malaria parasite.

According to 21st-century historical data, Ancient Egypt was a nation deeply plagued by malaria. The Ancient Egyptians referred to it as a disaster sent by the gods—specifically Nergal, the god of plague.

Ye Zhiqing’s frown deepened. The medical level of Ancient Egypt at this time was completely incapable of fighting malaria. Faced with an unknown disease of such high infectivity and mortality, Edith had actually decided to go there in person.

The risk was immeasurably high. Ye Zhiqing’s heart hammered against her ribs.

She stood up abruptly and grabbed Edith’s ​unauthorized copy​wrist. The golden bracer pressed painfully into Ye Zhiqing’s palm, yet she did not lighten her grip; instead, she held on tighter.

“Your Majesty Edith, you cannot go there.” Her eyes were firm and bright. This was the first time Ye Zhiqing had used a commanding tone when speaking to Edith.

Edith refocused her gaze on Ye Zhiqing’s face. “Zhiqing, I must know the specific situation of this plague.”

Ye Zhiqing’s eyes flickered. Yes, in all of Edith’s upcoming plans and actions, one factor was paramount—scarce yet most vital.

Manpower.

The massive project of reconstructing the Nile waterway was a headache in terms of labor alone. Add to that the sowing season, the border unrest, and the general recovery of the nation. From any angle, manpower was in severe shortage. If this epidemic was not controlled, it would undoubtedly be the final straw.

The deeper she thought, the more frustrated she became. Anxiety surfaced on Ye Zhiqing’s face. She pulled Edith’s hand toward her until only a finger’s width of space remained between them.

“Your Majesty Edith, do you understand medicine? Can your presence solve this plague? Majesty, you are a human, not a god. Gods do not age or die, they are immune to disease, and they rule over all living things. Can you do that?”

The words tumbled out of Ye Zhiqing’s mouth. Even she hadn’t expected her tone to be so sharp. Looking at the dark-faced Edith, she instinctively wanted to retreat, but she remained motionless, meeting Edith’s gaze steadily.

The lively air between them turned deathly still.

Neither spoke. They stared at each other, their gazes meeting in the air, locked in a silent struggle where neither would yield.

Ultimately, Edith merely sighed softly, turned, and walked out of the room.

Ye Zhiqing stood in place, watching Edith’s retreating back thoughtfully. A moment later, she followed her out.

Based on 21st-century literature and the current climate of Egypt, Ye Zhiqing was ninety percent certain that this outbreak was malaria. The remaining ten percent of uncertainty was whether it was only malaria.

In the 21st century, Professor Tu Youyou discovered artemisinin to solve this disease that was once considered incurable. But where was she supposed to find artemisinin now?

Ye Zhiqing fell into a rare state of confusion. She knew little about medicine. The current situation allowed no retreat, yet offered no clear path forward.

Leaving the guest house, Ye Zhiqing headed toward the outskirts of the city. There were hidden guards protecting her in the shadows, so she didn’t need to worry about her safety while alone.

Even across thousands of years, the Nile—the river that nurtured countless lives—flowed with its usual solemnity and gentleness. The papyrus along the banks swayed precariously in the river wind laden with moisture.

Ye Zhiqing walked to the riverbank, her long hair disheveled. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

They both knew Edith’s current situation: “Internal troubles and external threats.” In ancient China, this would be the omen of a fallen kingdom. What would the result be in this Egypt?

It wasn’t until the sun sank toward the west, painting the sky with brilliant clouds, that Ye Zhiqing headed back into the city.

The ancient, smooth lines of the high city walls stood in stark contrast to the endless yellow sands. Watching from a distance, Ye Zhiqing felt a sense of tragic grandeur.

The familiar sound of approaching hooves soon diverted her attention.

It was Edith.

In a simple beige robe, her unrestrained long black hair looked even more defiant. Her eyes were deep, and Ye Zhiqing could not read her current mood.

The horse slowed to a stop before her. Upon seeing Ye Zhiqing, Edith’s posture visibly relaxed.

“Mount up,” Edith said, reaching out her hand.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for coming out of the city to meet me,” Ye Zhiqing’s tone was polite but distant. She ignored Edith’s outstretched hand.

She bypassed Edith, walked to the soldier following behind, made him dismount, and flipped herself onto the horse.

“Hyah!” Ignoring Edith, Ye Zhiqing rode straight toward the city.

The surrounding soldiers watched the scene with terrified yet irrepressible excitement. Someone actually dared to ignore the Pharaoh? And based on the King’s expression—puzzled and confused rather than angry—this was truly unbelievable.

Before long, Edith turned her horse and rode alongside her. “Zhiqing, tomorrow we set out from Kentanvi for Amun-em downstream. Saul is already there waiting for you.”

Her actions, expression, and tone seemed unchanged, but only Edith knew she was being a bit stiff, tentative, and cautious.

The Amun-em delta plain was the first location for Ye Zhiqing’s survey. The night before, they had agreed that Edith would unauthorized copyescort her to Amun-em before leaving. They hadn’t discussed the details then because they were too exhausted after doing things that wouldn’t be allowed on certain platforms.

Only when Ye Zhiqing asked today did she realize Edith intended to go to the epidemic area.

Ye Zhiqing’s eyes remained calm. She looked straight ahead the entire time, acting as if she hadn’t heard a word Edith said.

“Ye Zhiqing, you are worried about me.”

“Ye Zhiqing, I have already made preparations.”

“…”

No matter what Edith said, Ye Zhiqing did not react. The cavalry behind them was now entirely consumed by excitement rather than fear.

Finding her words falling on deaf ears, Edith eventually fell silent. They rode quietly for a distance until a muffled sound and a flutter of robes broke the silence.

Edith leaped from her own horse onto Ye Zhiqing’s. She grabbed the reins without a word, pulled the silent Ye Zhiqing into her arms, and rested her chin on Ye Zhiqing’s shoulder.

“Why do you speak no word to me?”

“I have not.”

A flash of surprise crossed Ye Zhiqing’s face, but she quickly regained her composure, already accustomed to Edith’s roguish behavior.

“Ye Zhiqing, you are lying. Do you remember that you can never lie to me?” Edith’s lips brushed against Ye Zhiqing’s ear, her breath warm against the delicate skin.

Ye Zhiqing’s body shuddered uncontrollably. She tried to lean away, but her body was firmly imprisoned by Edith’s strong arms. She couldn’t move an inch.

She let out a long, helpless sigh. “Your Majesty, you insist on going to the epidemic area?”

Edith didn’t speak. Instead, she leaned down and bit Ye Zhiqing’s earlobe.

“Nng—”

Caught off guard, a flush rapidly spread across Ye Zhiqing’s face. Her body stiffened reflexively. She was both ashamed and annoyed. “Edith!”

Gauging the situation, Edith let go just before Ye Zhiqing reached her breaking point.

“Is it that if I say I must go, you will continue to ignore me?”

“Rogue!”

“A rogue toward you? So what?”

“…”

Ye Zhiqing was so angry she couldn’t speak, yet she was powerless. She glared at Edith all the way back to the guest house and ignored everything Edith said or did once they arrived.

The Muto Border.

Inanhote was venting his rage upon a group of ministers.

“Did the news not say the Assyrian Prince had entered Egyptian territory? Why has there been no movement until now?”

“Highness, it has been confirmed. The news indeed came from Assyria. The delegation has entered Egypt.”

A distorted expression, unbefitting his age, appeared on Inanhote’s face. His tone was frantic. “Then where are they? Tell me, where did they go?”

Silence reigned.

Seeing no one answer, the fire in Inanhote’s heart burned more fiercely. “We don’t know the status of the priests in the Thebes temple, and now we don’t even know the status of the Assyrians!”

Inanhote strode to the side and kicked a white-haired elder minister standing at the front. With a muffled groan, the elder was sent flying, coughing up a spray of blood onto the floor.

The surrounding people were used to this; their expressions became more respectful as they dared not make a sound.

“Whatever method you use, I must know where the Assyrian delegation is within three days! Otherwise, you [read the original at bailiantales.com]know the consequences.”

Inanhote’s eyes were bloodshot and swollen, looking terrifying. He muttered like a madman, “Edith, Edith… Hahaha, you will die by my hand, you certainly will…”

The ministers below the steps remained as quiet as cicadas in winter, not daring to make the slightest noise.