Chapter 18

Lan Yi would rather have the King of Hell appear before her.  

At least that would make some sense.  

But she couldn’t decide anything. She could only watch helplessly as Prince Yi approached the bed, casting a cold gaze down at her.  

Lan Yi: “…”  

She felt a little stiff, and a little guilty in a muddled way.  

Did Prince Yi know she had tried to scheme against him again—to die at his doorstep?  

Impossible.  

She hadn’t succeeded, after all. It was just a thought.  

“Your Highness, Imperial Physician Meng has arrived.”  

The woman’s voice from earlier sounded at the door, followed by the entrance of a kindly old man who looked every bit the experienced physician.  

Imperial Physician Meng bowed to Prince Yi before examining Lan Yi.  

After observing her complexion, listening to her breathing, and checking her pulse, he moved on to questioning.  

“Does the young madam still feel nauseous or experience abdominal pain?” Imperial Physician Meng asked gently.  

…What kind of strange address was “young madam”?  

Lan Yi disliked it, but she couldn’t object—nor could she answer the physician’s question. Her throat felt as if it had been scorched by fire, making even swallowing painful. She couldn’t produce a single sound.  

After a long, silent struggle, she managed a slight nod against the pillow, then shook her head.  

The nausea had faded, but the abdominal pain remained—though it wasn’t as severe as before, when it had felt like a sharp blade twisting inside her.  

Lan Yi couldn’t convey the difference, but Imperial Physician Meng seemed to understand. “It seems most of the poison has been purged. San Lang discovered it in time and handled it appropriately.”  

Who was San Lang?  

The young man who had saved her? Imperial Physician Meng referred to him by his birth order rather than his name, suggesting a close relationship, like a nephew or junior family member.  

No wonder “San Lang” had known what to do—it must have been passed down in his family.  

But why had he suddenly appeared? Then again, after the incident at Reverence Heaven Temple, Prince Yi must have had the Yang family under surveillance. He had even arrested Aunt Zhou’s so-called “relative” before.  

Lan Yi’s thoughts stopped there. She simply didn’t have the strength to think further.  

“Your Highness,” Imperial Physician Meng turned to Prince Yi after a moment of consideration, choosing his words carefully, “the young madam’s arsenic poisoning has been neutralized, but she suffers from chronic illness. After this ordeal, her constitution is even weaker. Whether she can survive and recover… I cannot guarantee. We must first try a few doses of medicine.”  

Prince Yi responded in a low voice, “Hmm. Proceed with the treatment.”  

Imperial Physician Meng cupped his hands and withdrew.  

Prince Yi glanced at Lan Yi once more.  

It was a casual sweep of his eyes, yet it carried a deep, chilling intensity. The contrast between his towering stance and her prone position only amplified his imposing dominance.  

Lan Yi lowered her lashes, avoiding his gaze.  

She had a vague sense that he was in an extremely foul mood.  

Even at Reverence Heaven Temple, he hadn’t exuded such palpable coldness.  

She just didn’t understand why he had ordered someone to save her. A man of his temperament didn’t seem the type to extend unnecessary kindness.  

Lan Yi felt some fear, but mostly awkwardness. She had planned her death so carefully—once she was gone, the world’s troubles would no longer concern her. Who could have predicted this disruption? She had never imagined she would see Prince Yi again. If she could move, she would have gotten up and left immediately. But she couldn’t.  

Prince Yi turned and walked away.  

Lan Yi exhaled in relief.  

Then, voices sounded at the door again:  

“Your Highness, Yang Wen Xu is still waiting outside. He says he’s here to take his wife home.”  

“Absurd. Why is he demanding people from me?” Prince Yi’s voice was displeased. “His wife was harmed by him and has already succumbed to poison. Tell him to go home and arrange her funeral.”  

Lan Yi: “…”

She suspected her injuries were too severe, causing her to hallucinate.  

Who was truly absurd?  

The sounds outside the door ceased, footsteps fading into the distance.  

Lan Yi lay in a daze, her already muddled mind now completely blank.  

The only good news was that after a night of uncertain sleep or unconsciousness, Cui Cui and Ling Zi—two maids with swollen eyes—returned to her side.  

“Madam, wuwu…” Cui Cui’s tears, which had dried earlier, began flowing again the moment she saw Lan Yi, led in by a servant. “Why… why would such a good person like Madam… wuwu…”  

Xiao Lingzi’s eyes were also brimming with tears.  

Lan Yi couldn’t speak, only comforting them with her gaze.  

Her pitiful state must have been too much for Cui Cui, who choked on her sobs, unable to catch her breath.  

At that moment, the woman who had been keeping watch since yesterday approached. Lan Yi now saw that she was also dressed as a maid, though slightly older, with a gentle and refined appearance, holding a bowl of medicine.  

“Madam, it’s time for your medicine.”  

Cui Cui was familiar with this task and hastily wiped her tears before stepping forward to take the bowl. “I’ll do it.”  

She scooped a spoonful, gently blowing on it to cool it. Just as she was about to bring it to Lan Yi’s lips, she hesitated.  

The older maid, understanding her concern, smiled softly. “This is a new prescription from Imperial Physician Meng. He personally selected the herbs and oversaw his apprentice while it was brewed.”  

Reassured, Cui Cui sniffled and nodded before feeding Lan Yi.  

Due to the damage to Lan Yi’s throat, the bowl of medicine took several times longer than usual—nearly an entire incense stick’s worth of time—to finish.  

By the end, Cui Cui had calmed down. Handing the empty bowl back to the maid, she thanked her and struck up a conversation. “Sister, thank you for taking care of our Madam. May I ask your name?”  

“Jian Su,” the maid replied softly.  

*Jian Su Bao Pu.*  

Lan Yi instinctively thought of the phrase.  

It came from *Laozi*. Prince Yi truly lived up to his reputation for Daoist inclinations—his maids weren’t given flowery names like “Red” or “Green Oriole,” but rather names like these.  

Jian Su didn’t leave the room, simply passing the empty bowl through the curtain, where someone outside silently took it. The coordination was seamless and hushed.  

Cui Cui unconsciously lowered her voice. “Sister Jian Su, if you have other matters to attend to, please don’t let us keep you. We can take care of Madam here.”  

“I have no other duties,” Jian Su replied gently. “His Highness instructed me to remain here. If you need anything, you may tell me.”  

Cui Cui had no immediate needs but was bursting with questions. Tentatively, she asked a couple—like why Prince Yi had coincidentally sent someone to rescue them, or whether they could leave Prince Yi’s Residence soon, given their unsuitability to stay. Jian Su answered, though her responses were vague. “His Highness’s intentions are not for me to speculate on. Rest assured here—he will make arrangements.”  

Cui Cui: “…Oh.”  

She was usually straightforward and outspoken, but Jian Su carried an air of propriety and dignity that surpassed even some official wives she had seen, leaving her thoroughly intimidated.  

Later, when helping Lan Yi change clothes and wash, Jian Su moved with such gentle precision that not a single flaw could be found.  

Cui Cui could only assist from the sidelines, growing increasingly uneasy as she did.  

She naturally wanted to believe her Madam. If Lan Yi said the incident at Reverence Heaven Temple was a misunderstanding, then it was. But Prince Yi’s Residence… was acting strangely.  

Perhaps this was simply how princely households operated. Maybe Prince Yi was genuinely kind-hearted, and they had simply encountered good fortune.

The day passed with Cui Cui convincing herself. Prince Yi never showed up, which oddly put her mind at ease. Someone of his status had no reason to visit Lan Yi, nor would it be appropriate.  

“Madam, once you’re better, we’ll go back and let the master decide,” Cui Cui muttered by the bedside. “This time, we can’t let Consort Jiang off. She dared to poison your medicine—such a heinous act! No matter how biased the master is, he shouldn’t protect her now.”  

In Cui Cui’s mind, since the medicine had been procured by Consort Jiang’s people, and Consort Jiang had always been at odds with them, she was obviously the culprit.  

Lan Yi knew better.  

Unless Jiang Ru had suddenly lost her mind, she would never resort to poisoning. It wasn’t just a matter of interests—such extreme methods were unnecessary.  

She believed Yang Wen Xu knew this too.  

So he would protect someone—but not necessarily Consort Jiang.  

Not because Consort Jiang had poisoned her, but precisely because the poisoner wasn’t her.  

Amid the relentless pain, Lan Yi found a sliver of amusement.  

The situation in the Yang family must be quite the spectacle right now.  

**  

Yang Residence.  

Master Yang dragged his feet as he entered the house.  

Yang Wen Xu followed behind.  

He had personally fetched his father back from the Zhao family.  

Master Yang hadn’t wanted to leave. Under the pretense of being a guest, he had stayed at the Zhao residence for a day and a half. Master Zhao was happy to keep hosting him, but when Yang Wen Xu showed up, there was nothing Master Zhao could say—father and son were family, after all. Reluctantly, he saw Master Yang off.  

The moment he stepped inside, Master Yang lifted his chin and declared, “I’m tired. I’m going to rest.”  

Yang Wen Xu stared at his back, his gaze icy. “That package of poison and Lan Yi are both at Prince Yi’s Residence now. Does Father still pretend not to know?”  

Master Yang turned around in feigned surprise—of course he knew. It was precisely because he knew that he had fled in terror to the Zhao family, leaving the mess for his son to handle.  

But he would never admit it. “What? How is this connected to the prince’s residence now? I always said Lu Shi was shameless!”  

Yang Wen Xu closed his eyes briefly.  

He could hardly tolerate his father’s stupidity. But he had no choice—this was his father, the one who shared his blood, whose fortunes were tied to his own, someone he could neither escape nor replace.  

Master Yang didn’t get his rest. Under his son’s pressure, he was brought to the woodshed, where Yang Sheng was being held.  

Yang Sheng was in a pitiful state—not only tied up like a dumpling but also beaten severely, now genuinely on the brink of death.  

Master Yang’s pupils shrank.  

Yang Wen Xu said coldly, “Yang Sheng has confessed everything.”  

Investigating such a case was effortless for him. Arsenic was a deadly poison, acting swiftly—the problem had to lie in what Lan Yi consumed before leaving. Tracing the chain of events, the contact between the servant sent by Consort Jiang and Master Yang during the return trip, and Yang Sheng’s actions—everything became clear within half a day.  

“He confessed—ah,” Master Yang’s expression gradually returned to normal. “So he was the one who poisoned her. Then deal with him according to family law. And bring Lu Shi back—what’s she doing staying at someone else’s residence? If she had any shame, she should’ve returned on her own by now.”  

Yang Sheng’s eyes widened in disbelief as he struggled to look up at Master Yang, who stood loftily at the woodshed entrance. “Master, how can you say that—”

He turned to Yang Wen Xu, pleading, “Master, it really wasn’t me! I had no grudge against the mistress, why would I harm her? It was Master Yang who ordered me to buy those things and find an opportunity to give them to the mistress, but I didn’t dare obey. I know nothing about what happened afterward!”

Yang Wen Xu knew he wasn’t lying but showed no mercy: “If you knew about such a thing, you should have reported it to me. By concealing it privately, you allowed disaster to strike. There’s nothing unjust about your punishment.”

Yang Sheng tasted bitterness in his mouth. He wanted to say he didn’t dare offend Master Yang, but then realized—why bother explaining? Someone as brilliant as Yang Wen Xu would surely understand this reasoning. Clearly, it was because father and son couldn’t openly oppose each other, so they were determined to make him the scapegoat.

Master Yang regained his vigor: “Exactly! It’s all this servant’s fault. If you’d been more virtuous and knew how to, well, advise your master properly, I wouldn’t have made such a foolish mistake.”

This was too shameless even for Yang Wen Xu to bear: “Father!”

With such a huge scandal erupting—rumors spreading throughout the city about the Yang family’s daughter-in-law vomiting blood from poisoning in the streets—Master Yang wasn’t without guilt. Now cornered by his son, he was eager to settle the matter: “Fine, it’s Yang Sheng’s fault. Just deal with him and be done with it.” Turning to Yang Sheng, his gaze flickered momentarily before adopting a solemn tone: “Go in peace. I’ll remember your service and look after your family.”

Yang Sheng collapsed in despair. What family did he need Master Yang to look after? He wasn’t ready to die!

“It’s not that simple,” Yang Wen Xu frowned.

Lan Yi had been taken in by Prince Yi’s Residence, ensuring this matter couldn’t be settled privately. A single Yang Sheng wouldn’t suffice as explanation—as Yang Sheng himself had said, he had no motive to commit the capital crime of a servant murdering his master through Death by a Thousand Cuts.

From this hopeless situation, Yang Sheng glimpsed a sliver of hope and quickly raised his head again.

Master Yang’s eyes darted: “Wasn’t it Jiang Shi who sent someone to prepare the medicine? She’s always been at odds with your wife. Just say she did it.”

Yang Wen Xu remained silent.

If even Master Yang could think of this idea, how could he not have considered it?

“If you pity Jiang Shi and can’t bear to send her to her death, then once Lu Shi returns, just have her forgive Jiang Shi,” Master Yang reasoned confidently. “If the victim doesn’t pursue it, what does it matter what outsiders say?”

This was the least troublesome solution with minimal losses, except—

A doubt arose in Yang Wen Xu’s heart: would Lan Yi even return?

Prince Yi’s Residence’s sudden appearance was too strange. Their action of taking her into the residence was also unusually indiscreet, seeming contradictory compared to their earlier citywide search.

When he went to retrieve her, they told him she was gone. He didn’t believe it at all—if she were truly gone, why wouldn’t they release her body? What use would Prince Yi’s Residence have keeping a corpse?

For the first time, he felt a thread of panic—the uncertainty of events slipping beyond his control, and a foreboding unease that he was about to lose something.

Master Yang, solely focused on absolving himself, didn’t ponder as deeply as his son and pressed urgently: “Are you worried Lu Shi might be too angry to agree? That’s easy too—we won’t pursue whatever happened between her and Prince Yi. Surely that’s acceptable?”

This was complete nonsense, forcing Yang Wen Xu to angrily divert his attention: “Father, stop this foolish talk! These are all mistakes you’ve made. Lan Yi never showed you any disrespect, yet for petty gains you conceived murderous intentions, bringing turmoil to our household!”

“I only wanted what’s best for you,” Master Yang muttered weakly. “You’ll see when you meet her—the Zhao family’s youngest daughter is truly exquisite, and Master Zhao has taken a great liking to you—”

“I will never marry a daughter of the Zhao family,” Yang Wen Xu declared resolutely. “Their household’s conduct speaks for itself—they are no virtuous sort. From this day forward, we shall have no further dealings with them.”

Master Yang hastily defended, “Xu’er, you misunderstand. Master Zhao knew nothing of this matter. The agreement between us was only after your wife’s passing—”

“Even if he was unaware before, yesterday’s events should have enlightened him,” Yang Wen Xu said coldly. “Yet he still took you in, proving himself a profit-driven, heartless wretch devoid of shame.”

“…”

The vehemence of his son’s words left Master Yang momentarily speechless. He suspected the rebuke was indirectly aimed at him but dared not ask—doing so would only invite further condemnation.

Seizing the opening in desperation, Yang Sheng interjected with difficulty, “Master, Young Master, even if the mistress were to return and agree, Consort Jiang might not be willing…”

The charge of murdering the mistress was no light matter to bear. Consort Jiang was no fool—why would she shoulder such blame? No promise, however generous, could easily sway her.

Before Yang Wen Xu could respond, Master Yang puffed out his chest at these words. “Hmph! Since when does she have a say? Lu Shi’s frail health and inability to bear children were largely her doing! It’s no false accusation.”

Then, ingratiatingly, he asked Yang Wen Xu, “Isn’t that right, Xu’er?” His voice grew quieter as he added, “No matter what, you wouldn’t turn against your own father in the name of righteousness, would you?”

Yang Wen Xu remained silent, offering no reply.

Author’s Note:

Word count suggests I’ll go VIP next Tuesday with three updates split into two chapters—the divorce and mansion entry resolved in one day (story time will progress slightly faster).