“Huff, huff… That Yemei is truly a dangerous person, I…”
Wu Qingyang watched them leave with a fawning smile plastered across his face, only collapsing against the wall like a puppet with its strings cut once they were out of sight. Gasping for breath, his mouth hung open as he recalled the terrifying scene he had witnessed—how he had foolishly chased after them and seen them kill with his own eyes. Slapping his chest repeatedly, he panted heavily until he finally mustered enough strength to stagger away, his terrified sprint making it seem as though someone might snap his neck at any moment.
“That girl saw the master kill with her own eyes. I don’t understand why the master let her go after she witnessed such a thing,” one of the black-clad subordinates trailing behind Yemei muttered, puzzled despite the master’s earlier remark about the girl potentially being useful.
“Prevention is better than cure. I spared her for her unwavering loyalty to Leng Mingye. I only hope my judgment isn’t mistaken, or else her pretty head will part ways with her slender, graceful figure… Heh, let’s return to the palace,” Yemei replied with a faint chuckle, amused by his subordinate’s confusion. Without another word, he strode forward, leaving the two men to follow in silence, not daring to press further.
“Miss, will Xu Mama show any improvement after the acupuncture?” In the Mu residence, Honglian watched Wanqing, who had just finished treating Xu Mama, return to the medicine cabinet to search for herbs. Worried about the old woman’s condition and her importance to them, she couldn’t help but ask.
“Uncertain, but as long as I’m here, there won’t be any accidents. We’ll know for sure in a few days,” Wanqing replied with a light smile, noticing Honglian’s anxious expression.
“But, Miss, if Yemei suspects you and decides to strike suddenly…” Though Wanqing remained calm, Honglian glanced at the other maids behind her, her voice laced with concern.
“Don’t worry. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I refuse to believe he can control everything. If the evidence proves he killed my mother, I’ll make sure he pays for it… Now, go outside. I need to read for a while.” Wanqing understood their fears all too well. Yemei’s visit had one clear purpose—to see if she could undo the poison her father had ingested.
Though she had forced her father to vomit the poison Yemei had given him, its potency had shocked even her, the self-proclaimed top poison master of the Poison Sect. Yet, she remained confident she could decipher its formula and find a cure soon.
Seeing Honglian hovering nearby, Wanqing sighed. “If you need me, just call,” Honglian said softly before stepping out, closing the door behind her to give Wanqing peace to focus.
“Honglian, we’re missing ginseng flowers. Go to the apothecary in town and see if they have any…” Wanqing suddenly remembered an antidote herb and called out to Honglian, who nodded and hurried off.
“Brother Zhao? What are you doing here? You’re poisoned? Come inside quickly! Wanchun, go fetch Miss right away!” Honglian had barely stepped out when she spotted a figure stumbling from the bushes. Recognizing Zhao Zhong, she rushed to support him, alarmed by his ashen, purple-tinged face and unsteady stance.
“Thank you, miss…” Zhao Zhong managed weakly, his lips pale as he leaned on her for support.
“Miss, hurry! Look at Brother Zhao!” Honglian cried as Wanqing emerged, helping Zhao Zhong inside with difficulty.
“Let me see… Honglian, don’t move. This is the same poisoner’s work. Wanchun, fetch my antidote pills and sprinkle this on Honglian. Then take her to soak in a medicinal bath—use this formula. Hurry! Brother Zhao, hold on. Your poisoning is severe. I need to bleed the toxins and prepare a bath for you too…” Wanqing quickly assessed the situation, recognizing the poison from the corpses of Liu’s parents.
As Zhao Zhong lost consciousness and Honglian swayed, Wanqing barked orders, handing out gloves and antidotes before scribbling a prescription. Once the maids had carried out her instructions, she turned to Zhao Zhong, applying powders and needles to draw out the poison.
By midnight, after hours of relentless effort, both patients’ complexions had returned to normal, though they remained pale.
“Let Honglian sleep. She’ll be fine when she wakes. As for Brother Zhao… everyone else should rest. I’ll check on him again.” Wanqing had many questions about Zhao Zhong’s poisoning.
Dismissing the exhausted maids, she approached Zhao Zhong, still submerged in the medicinal bath, and resumed her acupuncture.
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