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He slowly stood up, looking around. Above him were intricately carved beams and painted pillars, beneath his feet lay a floor of golden bricks. Behind a screen depicting five-clawed golden dragons was a long writing desk. On either side of the desk were two crane-shaped palace lamps, their flickering light casting swirling smoke. The cold air of late autumn, scented with sandalwood, blew across his nose.,His forehead started aching again, his head felt swollen, and dizziness came in waves. Countless images filled his vision, flashing by at lightning speed.,The imperial physician hurriedly bowed and said, “Your Majesty’s pulse is between four and five beats per breath. It is neither floating nor sinking, neither fast nor slow, neither strong nor weak, neither large nor small. The rhythm is regular, calm and unhurried, and there is no major problem. You just bumped your forehead, it will…in a day or two, you will recover fully.”。