Chapter 9

“Oh,” Yun Miao said, turning to leave.

The filthy old man: “?”

“I said, the person you’re trying to save won’t survive till half a day,” he repeated hoarsely.

“Oh.” Yun Miao didn’t even turn back.

The filthy old man: “??”

Perhaps it was the first time he’d encountered such an unyielding young lady, or maybe he was displeased at having his expertise in poison doubted; either way, the filthy old man was quite frustrated.

“Little girl, are you going to the black market to buy dragon blood grass?” he asked hoarsely, his words becoming more numerous. “That herb won’t work against this poison. It only has a pain-relieving effect.”

This time, not only did the young girl not turn her head, but she didn’t even bother with an “Oh.”

The old man grew impatient: “The poison’s name is ‘Tu Mi Xiang’!”

Yun Miao finally paused her steps and turned around.

“‘When the flower blooms fully, the affair ends.’ That’s the meaning behind the name of this poison,” the filthy old man said slowly. “When the flower reaches its peak bloom, it’s also at the point of withering.”

“Grandpa, how do you know so much?” Yun Miao asked, blinking in surprise.

Perhaps because she addressed him so politely as “grandpa,” the filthy old man nodded in satisfaction.

He extended a muddy hand. “Help me sit up, and I’ll explain it to you slowly.”

Yun Miao hesitated for a moment but ultimately walked over, taking his hand and helping him sit up.

It was at this moment…
She discovered that the old man had no legs.

More accurately, his legs had been amputated from below the knees.

The filthy old man propped himself up on one hand and sat upright, his robes hanging emptily below him, giving a somewhat eerie appearance.

Yun Miao, never having seen someone so disabled before, felt a pang of sympathy and became gentler in her movements as she helped the old man.

The filthy old man seemed to enjoy her kindness quite a bit. With her support, he shifted to sit on a stone slab by the street. Yun Miao adjusted her hooded robe and sat beside him, cupping her chin with her hands, appearing to listen intently.

“The reason I know so much about Tu Mi Xiang,” the filthy old man began with a chuckle, “is because I created it.”

Yun Miao blinked.
She had just learned that Xie Zhiyuan had been poisoned, and now she found out it was by a poison this old man had invented?

“Of course, I didn’t administer the poison,” the filthy old man said, noticing her expression. “I’m merely the creator of it.”

“Then is there a way to detoxify it?” Yun Miao asked immediately.

“My rule is not to discuss poisons with young girls,” the old man grunted.

Yun Miao tilted her head thoughtfully, then raised her pale face and pleaded, “Grandpa, please help me. My friend is dying.”

The old man turned his head, remaining silent.
However, the sight of the young girl’s soft-spoken plea, her sweet demeanor, and her calling him “Grandpa” was too much for him to resist. He looked at her for a moment, deliberated, and said, “Young girl, take me as your teacher.”

Yun Miao froze. “Huh?”

“I’m already at this age, and I won’t live much longer. But my lifetime of knowledge in poison-crafting has no heir,” the old man said slowly. “Young girl, you gave me water, and I feel a certain affinity with you. If you become my apprentice, I’ll teach you everything I know.”

Yun Miao hesitated for a moment, thinking that learning such a skill could be useful. She clasped her hands in front of her and obediently said, “Master.”

The old man was very satisfied, patting her hooded head with his grimy hand.
He said, “I rank seventh in my sect, and my mastery of poisons has earned me the moniker ‘Ghost Seven.’ In public, you don’t need to call me Master; just address me as Seven Elder.”

“Seven Elder,” Yun Miao repeated after him, then immediately asked, “So how do we detoxify Tu Mi Xiang? I’m in a hurry to save my friend.”

“This poison,” Ghost Seven said slowly, “has no antidote.”

Yun Miao: “…”

If it weren’t for her respect for the elderly, she’d have rolled up her sleeves and picked a fight.

“But,” Ghost Seven continued, “I can preserve his life.”

Yun Miao’s eyes lit up. “As long as his life can be saved, that’s enough!”

“However,” Ghost Seven added slowly, “it won’t last very long.”

Yun Miao nearly fainted.

…Elderly people really shouldn’t speak with such dramatic pauses.

“How long is ‘not very long’?” she asked.

“That depends on the individual,” Ghost Seven replied. “It’s hard to say.”

…Fair enough.

Yun Miao patiently asked, “So, what should I do?”

“First, go to the black market and buy dragon blood grass,” Ghost Seven instructed. “Though it’s ineffective against this poison, it does alleviate pain. Next, you’ll need to purchase qilin resin, arisaema, dried ginger, musk…”

Yun Miao carefully memorized his instructions, then wrapped herself in her hooded robe and headed to the Hundred Ghosts’ underground market.

Inside the underground gambling den, gamblers and drunkards were pounding on tables, clinking glasses, and cheering. Huge sums of chips were being pushed onto tables, and with each completed round, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause.

Among the sound of clattering abacuses, two shopkeepers at the end of the counter were busy calculating.

“I need to see Manager Dong,” a clear voice rang out.

A golden seal was slapped onto the counter with a sharp “clack.” Both shopkeepers looked up, seeing a girl wrapped in a black hooded robe standing before them. Her pale, strikingly beautiful face bore a proud and cold gaze.

“May I ask who this esteemed guest is?”
One shopkeeper licked his lips and politely inquired, clearly intimidated by the imposing aura of the unknown girl.

The little girl in front of him wasn’t tall, clearly young, yet her small face under the black hood exuded an air of arrogance, making her seem hard to approach. Instinctively, he used formal language.

“Don’t ask who I am,” Yun Miao said coldly. “Call Director Dong out to meet me.”

She put on her best act, mimicking the demeanor of a gang boss.

This was the Ghost Market, a place where the strong preyed on the weak. Xie Zhi Yuan had seized control of this place by killing the previous owner. Now, lying injured and unconscious, if the people here learned he could die at any moment, they’d rebel in no time.

Weak devils were killed by new ones—that was the rule of the Ghost Market: simple and brutal.

So, Yun Miao had to put on an invincible front to wield the authority Xie Zhi Yuan had established here as the boss.

The steward at the counter had already sent someone to deliver the message. Soon, an older man in a gray robe with folded sleeves came running out.

After the bloody day when Xie Zhi Yuan had slaughtered his way into the Ghost Market, this man, Dong the steward, had been assigned to manage the place, handling all affairs during Xie Zhi Yuan’s absence. His personality was cowardly and sycophantic, and ever since witnessing Xie Zhi Yuan’s methods firsthand, he hadn’t stopped bowing and scraping before him.

“Madam Boss!”

As soon as Dong spotted Yun Miao at the counter, he bowed deeply, all the way to the ground in one smooth motion, as if he were gliding on his knees.

…That was a bit much.

Yun Miao quietly complained in her heart.

Also, what kind of odd title was “Madam Boss”??

As she was silently griping, Dong was stealthily observing the young girl before him.

She was dressed in a deep black, loose robe, her slender, pale fingers holding the hood. Casually, she tucked a lock of hair behind her cheek. Her petite, delicate face remained expressionless, stunning yet cold, exuding an aura of untouchable arrogance.

Indeed, a fitting mistress for the Ghost Market.

Dong thought to himself.

Unlike the others here, he was among the few who knew the new boss’s true identity.

He clearly remembered the moment Xie Zhi Yuan had declared himself the Third Prince and solemnly handed the golden insignia of the boss to this girl in a ruqun. He had called it a betrothal gift.

From that moment, Dong was certain this girl would one day be the future Third Princess Consort and possibly even Empress. An empress who commanded the realm—it didn’t hurt to kneel now.

However, at the time, he’d assumed she was merely a decorative vase. Now, seeing her cold and haughty demeanor, he began to believe she was someone with real means.

Yun Miao, unaware of Dong’s constantly changing expressions, maintained her act as a cool and composed boss. She lightly tapped the gold insignia on the counter. “Director Dong, I have orders for you.”

Dong respectfully led Yun Miao to the inner hall behind the curtain, where she was seated. He had someone bring a cup of freshly brewed mountain spring tea and stood with his sleeves hanging, waiting for her instructions.

“I need all the dragon’s blood herbs on the market,” Yun Miao said without lifting her head, stirring the tea with a silver spoon.

“Understood,” Dong nodded and bowed. “When do you need them?”

“Before sunrise,” Yun Miao said calmly.

“Before sunrise today?”

Dong almost choked.

…Did she know what it meant to buy up all the dragon’s blood herbs in one night?

“Before sunrise today,” Yun Miao repeated evenly.

Dong said no more and got to work.

He was just a steward. Whatever the boss said went. The boss’s words had to be right. If he didn’t understand, the fault must lie with him, not the boss.

And so, before sunrise, the Ghost Market’s underground warehouse was piled with a small mountain of dragon’s blood herbs.

Yun Miao held a cup of tea, walking past the stack of herbs. Casually, she picked up a handful and, unnoticed by anyone, discreetly tucked it into her robe.

After leaving the Ghost Market, she turned a corner and stopped by an unremarkable pharmacy, where she purchased various medicinal ingredients for treating injuries. She then returned to the Yun Estate, sneaking through a side door back into her room.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, the candle flame almost extinguished. Between the bed curtains, all was dim.

“Xie Zhi Yuan?” Yun Miao called softly.

Everything in the room was as she’d left it. The faint light from the wick flickered dimly.

The injured youth lay on the soft bed piled with brocade; his head slightly turned. Long lashes cast shadows, still unconscious. His bloodstained robes were quiet and unmoving, making him look like he was dead.

Yun Miao removed her hooded robe, placed the armful of herbs on the table, and walked to the bed. She bent down and touched his forehead.

His body temperature was as cold as a handful of snow, but his breath was hot and feverish. This odd combination of heat and cold was due to the poison called “Tumi Incense.”

Pressing her cheek gently to his chest, Yun Miao listened to his heartbeat—weak and irregular, but still there.

A sign of life.

She felt slightly relieved.

Turning around, she reached up to retrieve a white porcelain bowl from the display shelf. Sitting by the bed, she began grinding herbs with clean water.

Once the concoction was ready, she mixed it with warm water, blew on it to cool it, and carefully spooned it, drop by drop, into the youth’s slightly open mouth.

Drip by drip, warmth slowly returned to his body.

Outside, the sky gradually brightened. Birds chirped in the treetops, and the breeze carried the fresh scent of dew-covered flowers and grass into the room.

When the boy on the bed opened his eyes, a golden ray of sunlight fell across his face.

He blinked, dazed.

Beside him, the girl tilted her head, sitting in the sunlight. She reached out and gently stroked his hair, her eyebrows arching into a bright and radiant smile.

The backlight turned every strand of her hair into a shining gold, twinkling in the morning light.

“Xie Zhi Yuan,” she said with a smile. “You’re awake.”