The three of them walked together to a secluded corner. Han Shuang flicked back her sleeve and pulled out a small porcelain bottle, holding it out to Huayue.

Li Jingyun was still standing nearby, so Huayue felt at ease. She took the bottle, opened the stopper, and sniffed it, asking, “What is this?”

Han Shuang said, “Lung-Wrecking Paste. It tastes like hawthorn when you eat it — one or two doses won’t matter, and it can even stop coughing and clear phlegm. But taken continuously for a month, it will destroy the heart and lungs, making it impossible to preserve life.”

Li Jingyun’s face turned cold as he snatched the thing away and threw it back into her arms.

Han Shuang laughed lightly. “This little lady meant nothing else by it. I merely wanted to ask whether the young mistress knows of this medicine.”

Huayue shook her head. She had never had much insight into medicine — she had only dealt with it a great deal during the month she attended to Madam Zhuang, and even then she could only distinguish some commonly used herbs. How would she know something made into a paste like this?

The gaze of the person before her was deeply meaningful. Her eyelids swept down and across Huayue’s face, and then, with a look that was half a smile, she turned toward Li Jingyun and said, “Brother Jingyun had better look into this properly. Don’t end up not even knowing how your own birth mother died. What use is crying joyfully before her spirit tablet, when no one knows what kind of heart lies behind your back?”

These words carried thorns, and every one of them was aimed at Huayue. Yin Huayue frowned upon hearing them and was just about to speak when the person beside her beat her to it.

Li Jingyun let out a mocking laugh, cupped his hands toward Han Shuang, and said with unusual gentleness, “My thanks for the reminder.”

Han Shuang brightened, pinching her handkerchief. “If Brother Jingyun can take it to heart, then this little lady’s trip here was not in vain.”

“What Miss Han says, this one naturally takes to heart.” Li Jingyun raised his eyes to look at her. “After all, you’re someone who has been through it yourself — you’ve had your own experiences. This is the first time I’ve seen this face people wear differently in front of others than behind their backs. I’ve truly received Miss Han’s instruction.”

Han Shuang: “…”

Huayue didn’t understand what this meant, but she saw the person before her, who had just been smiling, suddenly collapse in expression. Her face turned pale, then flushed, and then tears began to well up.

“I truly came here with good intentions to help you.” She choked up. “You just go and investigate. If you can’t find any fault with this Lung-Wrecking Paste, I’ll pay for it with my life!”

With that, she stamped her foot and turned to walk away.

Li Jingyun watched her go calmly, and once she had run out the main gate, he glanced sideways at Huayue. “After all that, why didn’t you play the virtuous wife? A guest arrives and I make her cry — you didn’t even try to smooth things over?”

“Honestly speaking,” Huayue said sincerely, “this concubine found it quite satisfying to listen to. If Miss Han hadn’t run off so quickly, this concubine would have wanted to applaud.”

“Not a shred of the bearing of a proper wife.” He kept a stern face as he lectured her, then lowered his voice. “This lord likes it.”

The world was full of people with proper manners who knew how to smooth things over, but the little pup he raised, fighting for him without care for anything else, was better than anything.

Still, Han Shuang’s sudden visit and those words left Huayue unable to feel at ease. Given that the medicine stove and dregs in the back courtyard were still there, she went to fetch Wen Guzhi.

“Sister-in-law,” Wen Guzhi said earnestly, “we imperial physicians, though we’re said to know a hundred herbs and cure a hundred illnesses, truly don’t have divine powers. With these medicine dregs mashed up like this, I really cannot tell at a glance whether Lung-Wrecking Paste is in it.”

Beside him stood a young maidservant. While he spoke, she had already pinched a bit of the medicine dregs, dissolved it in water, and was carefully examining it.

Huayue looked on in surprise and asked quietly, “And this is?”

Wen Guzhi waved his sleeve. “A medicine girl from the palace under me, surnamed Li, usually called Yun’er. Today I was supposed to be on duty at the Imperial Physicians’ Institute, but with matters at the manor, I took leave and left the palace. She had nothing to do on her own, so she said she’d come along to take a look.”

The girl was quite fine-featured, but she wore a dark-colored long robe with her hair unbound, tied only with a hairband — giving off a certain unrestrained air. But as she bent her head to smell the medicine, her face was tense, looking far more serious than Wen Guzhi.

“Among the herbs commonly used in Lung-Wrecking Paste, they can all be found here,” Yun’er said, raising her head to ask Huayue. “But I don’t know whether they were originally in the prescription or added later. Does the madam still have the prescription?”

“I do.” Huayue hurried off to get it for her.

Young as she was, the girl worked with clean, decisive movements, comparing the prescription against the large winnowing basket of medicine dregs one by one, picking up twigs from the flowerbed nearby to sort them apart. She was absorbed in it for half an hour.

Wen Guzhi didn’t hurry her, sweeping his large sleeve aside to sit and watch, even bringing Huayue tea.

Huayue felt something wasn’t quite right and eyed him sideways. “Is this truly just a medicine girl under you?”

Wen Guzhi lowered his eyes. “Mm. She’s also something like half a disciple. I’ve been training her since she entered the profession. Her skill at diagnosis by observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking isn’t much, but she has quite an affinity for herbs.”

He said it offhandedly, but no matter how you listened, there was a hint of pride in it.

Huayue suddenly remembered something Wen Guzhi had said long ago — that liking someone didn’t necessarily mean marrying them, that when one was in danger, one shouldn’t drag a girl down with them. At the time she’d thought he meant the Third Young Master and Han Shuang, but seeing this now, well, it seemed she had misunderstood — the real person was likely right here.

“Madam.” Once she had finished sorting things out, Yun’er came over with a grave expression. “The original prescription did indeed contain those herbs found in Lung-Wrecking Paste, but the dosage is wrong. The dosage in the dregs has already reached the level where Lung-Wrecking Paste was added to every dose. If the patient took it long-term, not only would she not improve, but her heart and lungs would be destroyed and she would die.”

Huayue shuddered, her face instantly turning white as snow.

“What’s strange is that the dosages written on the prescription are all correct, but the medicine that was actually brewed is wrong.” Yun’er kept a stern face, speaking very seriously. “For the medicine to not match the prescription is a grave taboo among practitioners of medicine. What the reason behind this is, please, madam, look into it carefully and punish severely, without mercy.”

Wen Guzhi pressed a folded fan against her forehead. “Does the madam handling this need your pointers? Speak more gently — don’t frighten people.”

“I want to be gentle too, but this matter is too serious.” Covering her forehead, Yun’er frowned deeply. “If it were something else, fine, but there are also prescriptions you wrote yourself in there. If someone really got sick from taking them, wouldn’t that ruin your reputation too? This can’t be let off lightly.”

Her eyes turned slowly, and Huayue’s voice trembled a little. “I’m not very skilled in matters of medicine. If we’re to investigate this properly, I can only look into the maidservants and old women in the household who brew the medicine — though many times I brew it myself. Could the two of you please help me look into where exactly the problem lies?”

Wen Guzhi saw from her expression that something was wrong and nodded, about to agree, but Yun’er quickly said, “Master, when you left the palace you told them you’d be back by afternoon. Those people at the Imperial Pharmacy aren’t easy to deal with. If you’re really worried, just leave me here — I’ll investigate on your behalf. Once I’ve found some leads, you can come back and get me.”

She said this, then asked Huayue with a smile, “Can the madam provide me with food and lodging? This one didn’t bring any money when I came out.”

Huayue nodded stiffly, not even quite hearing what they were saying, and rose to walk toward the front of the house.

Yun’er watched her retreating figure and said quietly, “Master, if you’re not going to tell the truth — this madam is truly the birth daughter of the mistress, isn’t she? Looking at how grief-stricken she is, it’s heartbreaking.”

Wen Guzhi glanced at her sideways and gave a snorting laugh. “Let me remind you — even if the Marquis’s residence isn’t exactly a place of outsiders, you still need to watch your mouth. Take good care of that madam, and your certification box will come sooner.”

The certification box was the medicine box officially issued by the Bureau of Medicine. At the Imperial Physicians’ Institute of the Great Liang court, young apprentices and medicine girls all started out merely assisting the imperial physicians; only upon formal certification could they begin practicing diagnosis under their own name.

Yun’er had longed for her certification box for far too long. Hearing this, she immediately perked up. “You can trust me to handle things. In any case, I was someone who went out to make her way in the world at the age of ten — I can hold down this kind of scene just fine.”

Wen Guzhi disliked seeing her put on this air of feigned maturity most of all. His eyes deepened, and with one hand he seized both her wrists, pulling her close and lowering his eyelids to ask, “Made your way in the world at ten?”

Yun’er trembled, most of her bravado extinguished, but she still answered, “Y-yes. I’ve slept in mountain-god shrines, run into hooligans and ruffians — there’s nothing here that scares me. You can just treat me like a boy.”

All the other physicians’ apprentices at the Imperial Physicians’ Institute were boys; she was the only girl. So Yun’er most disliked wearing skirts, always wearing long robes like the others and speaking in a rough, gruff voice, afraid that someone would gossip about her because of her gender.

Wen Guzhi’s eyes were deep as the sea. He studied the young girl before him, and suddenly, with more force, seemed about to pull her into his embrace.

Yun’er’s face flushed red. She hastily broke free of his hands and retreated several steps back.

“See?” Wen Guzhi finally looked pleased. “You’re still a girl after all — you can’t pass for a boy.”

Flustered, Li Yun wanted to find some way to save face, but her master had already risen unhurriedly and walked out with a smile, his retreating figure carrying the satisfaction of having exposed her, walking off with tremendous ease.

“…”

Her master was truly detestable, Li Yun thought, gritting her teeth.

Huayue gathered all the maidservants and old women who usually attended to the madam and called them to the East Courtyard, saying that they had worked hard these past days and would be given silver.

With such a good thing on offer, everyone showed up in full. Huayue handed out purses of coin one by one, gently and softly asking about each person’s contributions along the way.

“Young mistress.” Partway through the line, a wiry, thin servant stepped forward, cupping his hands toward her. “This servant is Luo Xi. I didn’t serve in the main courtyard, but all the herbs used in the main courtyard were carried back by me. It can’t really be called hard work.”

Having said this, he knelt down and held out his hand.

Huayue, giving nothing away, placed the purse in his hand and nodded toward Shuang Jiang beside her.

Luo Xi took his reward and left happily, noticing nothing amiss. He was a man fond of gambling, and with his master unexpectedly handing out gambling money, he was eager to head out at once and have a good time.

Unexpectedly, just as he reached the small west gate, a young woman appeared beside him and said with a smile, “Sir, I’m a new medicine girl at the manor. Are you heading out to buy herbs? Could you take me along? I’d like to see if the shop has any large ginseng roots.”

Luo Xi looked her over; she was fresh and pretty, and his heart softened. “I can take you along. I’ll walk you over, but I have somewhere else to go too.”

“Fine.”

The two set out together. Luo Xi took her to the place where he usually got herbs, walked her in through the door, and left.

Li Yun, well-mannered, thanked him warmly and watched him walk off before turning to greet the shopkeeper who came to welcome her.

“You’re also from the Marquis’s residence?” the shopkeeper asked with a smile.

Li Yun laughed. “Not quite — I’m just riding on Brother Luo’s coattails, tagging along for a free meal.”

Seeing this, the shopkeeper looked from her to Luo Xi’s retreating figure and hurried to get friendly. “Brother Luo often comes here to get herbs — all good quality. Would you like to take a look?”

Li Yun said, “Nothing much to look at. Brother Luo’s busy today, so he had me come get the same prescription he got on the twentieth of the sixth month — same formula, please give it according to the earlier instructions.”

As she spoke, she handed over the prescription Wen Guzhi had written earlier.

The shopkeeper understood at a glance and turned to open a drawer, weighing out the herbs as he spoke. “We know this formula well — the manor has been taking it for a long time.”

He weighed it out and set it on the counter. Li Yun glanced at it and shook her head. “That’s not right — seems like something’s missing. Brother Luo mentioned earlier — eh, what did he say again, my memory’s bad — but there’s definitely something missing here.”

“Oh—” The shopkeeper looked as though he understood, and added a few more herbs separately, wrapping them up, saying quietly, “Is it this? Brother Luo’s mother has an old cough — he always takes this extra bit along with him.”

Those in charge of purchasing always skimmed a bit of profit for themselves one way or another; this small extra packet wasn’t excessive, and the shopkeeper was happy to cover for the man, doing him a favor. Today, seeing she was close to Luo Xi, the shopkeeper handed it over to her without a second thought.

Li Yun brought both packets back together and set them before Huayue.

“This one packet alone is nothing to worry about, but if the two are mixed together and brewed, combined with the mustard seed, asarum, and borneol already in the formula, it’s equivalent to adding Lung-Wrecking Paste,” she said gravely. “The method is quite clever — no one at the pharmacy would think the wrong herbs were given, and if questioned, no one would let anything slip.”

Huayue stared fixedly at the two packets of herbs, not a trace of color left on her lips.

She had thought Madam Zhuang’s life had already been bitter enough, but she never expected that in the end, her life had been cut short at her own hands — she hadn’t guarded against the possibility of something being wrong with the medicine, and this one oversight had directly harmed Madam Zhuang.

“Young mistress.” Shuang Jiang, beside her, suddenly spoke urgently. “You need to calm down.”

Huayue thought this strange — what was there for her to not be calm about? She was just sitting here, hadn’t said a word — why was Shuang Jiang panicking?

But in the next instant, Shuang Jiang lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her body, and only then did Huayue realize she was trembling violently, barely able to stay seated on the stool, her teeth chattering audibly.

Li Yun quickly pulled out a piece of soft wood and pressed it between her teeth.

“Bite down on this — it’ll keep you from biting your own tongue.” She looked at Huayue’s complexion and comforted the anxious Shuang Jiang. “This is a fit brought on by sudden shock — she’ll come around in a moment, it’s not an illness. But that said, young mistress, don’t panic like this — panicking won’t help. If someone’s been up to mischief, we’ll just catch them.”

How easy it would be to catch a Luo Xi. But even with the culprit caught, what about Madam Zhuang? Her grievance remained unredressed, and she had died without clarity — who would settle that injustice for her?

“This servant thinks Luo Xi, a mere servant, wouldn’t have the nerve to harm the mistress, and besides, he has no grudge against the madam,” Shuang Jiang said, stroking her back. “Let’s calm down — there’s definitely something else behind this. You mustn’t lose your composure. If you do, no one will be able to sort this matter out.”

Huayue closed her eyes, gradually steadying her breathing.

Li Yun quickly brought over some tea.

After drinking a mouthful of hot tea, Huayue came back to herself and asked in a low, hoarse voice, “Does Luo Xi understand medicine?”

Thinking back, Li Yun answered, “He often helps fetch medicine and recognizes some common herbs, but he doesn’t understand medical theory — he likely doesn’t even know what Lung-Wrecking Paste does. On the way there, this one made small talk with him and found out he likes to gamble, that his family is dirt poor, but he’s been gambling a lot lately. If someone gave him silver to do something bad, that would explain it.”

Huayue murmured in acknowledgment and stood up, supported by Shuang Jiang, her body swaying badly.

“Madam, shall this one take your pulse as well?” Yun’er asked, concerned. “If the Third Young Master saw you like this, wouldn’t he come find fault with me?”

“No need.” Huayue waved her hand. “You rest.”

She stepped out the door, her thin frame blown by the autumn wind outside, so slight it looked as if it might be carried away. Li Yun watched, unable to help but feel moved — the household’s mistress had passed away, and the young mistress was so frail; how could she not be bullied? Fortunately the Third Young Master was capable — once they got through this rough patch, things would probably be all right.

Once out the door of the small courtyard, Huayue, her small frame frail as ever, coldly instructed Shuang Jiang, “Prepare the carriage.”

Shuang Jiang was quite worried. “The Third Young Master hasn’t returned yet, and there’s still mourning in the household, and your health hasn’t been good lately — please don’t go out.”

Huayue glanced at her, her gaze as cold as it had been back when they first paid respects to each other in the West Palace.

Shuang Jiang was no ordinary person either — she had once, after all, been a minor princess. Among all the princesses who came to pay respects at the West Palace, she alone had been the least willing to submit to this little mistress, not understanding what standing this young girl even had that she should have to kneel to her.

But later, when the realm fell apart, Shuang Jiang had relied on her in the palace to survive, and the two had drifted together to the Marquis’s residence. She had instead come to respect this mistress. The other young maids only knew how to cry, but she, after crying it out once in the palace, had come out standing tall ever since — even though everyone around her thought she couldn’t be relied upon, she had her own way of doing things.

Under that gaze, Shuang Jiang sighed and went to prepare the sturdiest carriage, helping her up into it.

Huayue was headed to the famous Jile Pleasure House in the capital, a place with large gambling houses where gamblers came in a constant stream — one could sit at the tables to bet, or open a table to gamble against someone else.

The last time she’d come to this place, it had been to catch Li Jingyun. The Third Young Master hadn’t done a few unscrupulous things back then — gambling included — and that time, Li Jingyun had refused outright to go back, so she had sat down at the table herself, won all the silver off him with a dice cup, and hauled him back to the residence.

Manager Yin could do everything, gambling included — a skill she’d learned from Shen Zhiluo as a child, one she’d once used to beat that detestable First Prince.

Entering this place again now, Huayue didn’t sit at a table this time — she only sought out the manager, closed the door, and gave a few instructions.

Luo Xi took his reward money and stood in Jile Pleasure House, refusing to leave. He felt his luck was good — he’d won five taels of pure silver right off the bat, so he kept betting. But good things never lasted; before half a day was up, that reward silver, along with all his winnings, had all been lost.

“Manager.” He turned his head. “I’d like to borrow a few chips on credit.”

Everyone here knew he was a deadbeat, and normally no one would extend him credit, but today the manager, perhaps in a good mood, had him press his handprint directly and handed him fifty taels.

Luo Xi played with this fifty taels at the gambling house for three days. After three days, he was thrown out penniless. Being thrown out was one thing, but he still owed the debt, and several thugs surrounded him, demanding he pay it back within five days, or else he could forget about keeping his arms and legs.

He’d owed debts before, but only three or four taels at most — this was the first time he’d owed fifty. Knowing he was in real trouble, he hurried back to the manor to beg the young mistress who managed the accounts.

This household’s young mistress had a soft heart, Luo Xi thought, so there was hope. He knelt before her and cried his heart out, but unexpectedly, the young mistress, holding her teacup, said, “The Marquis’s residence doesn’t run bad debts. You get paid for the work you do — there’s no reason to advance you this much. Earlier, when I gave you a reward, it was because I considered you had done some service in caring for the madam. Now this — this counts as pushing your luck too far.”

Luo Xi slunk out dejectedly, spat twice, but then his eyes rolled and he thought of another way.

He sent word to a teahouse in the marketplace and requested an audience with a beardless, pale-faced man, bowing and kowtowing, and through a mix of threats and cajolery, got him to bring out silver.

It wasn’t that he was making trouble for no reason — earlier, when he had fetched herbs for the Marquis’s residence, this man had personally come to give him a red envelope, asking him to add an extra dose to one of the prescriptions, and so on. Luo Xi wasn’t stupid — matters like this that great officials did in secret surely counted as leverage. If he could get another fifty taels of silver out of it, he’d keep quiet — not a bad use of his time.

The beardless, pale-faced man listened silently, then agreed. “That much silver — come back to my residence with me to collect it.”

Delighted, Luo Xi immediately followed along. But the farther they walked, the more remote it became, until they reached a deserted spot, where several men suddenly leapt out from the side and, raising clubs, beat him savagely.

Killing to silence someone was far more satisfying than paying them off to keep quiet.

Huayue watched from the shadows, and once they had beaten him nearly to death, she waved her hand.

Another group of people rushed out as well, seizing the thugs and the pale-faced leader all together, and brought them back to the Marquis’s residence.

As the sun set and the net was drawn in, Huayue calmly took her seat at the head of the hall, listening to the man below howl, “You have no regard for the law! How dare you use private punishment to seize people! Let us go at once!”

She set down her teacup and looked down at him sternly. “You beat my Marquis’s residence’s man in broad daylight, and now you speak to me of law?”

The leader’s expression changed, his eyes darting about. “A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding — we mistook him for someone else.”

Luo Xi, beaten to within an inch of his life, lay on a stretcher nearby and struggled to speak. “It’s not a misunderstanding — please, young mistress, seek justice for me. They wouldn’t forgive the debt and wanted to deal with me harshly — this man’s name is De Sheng, we know each other.”

De Sheng’s expression shifted several times, and when he glanced around and saw only two women in the room, he immediately resolved on a vicious plan, breaking free of the hemp rope binding him behind his back and lunging to seize the young mistress as a hostage, hoping to escape the place.

However, the moment he rose and stepped forward, that seemingly soft and frail madam kicked him straight back down onto his knees with a dull, heavy thud, the pain making him grimace.

“Quite a lot of strength in him.” Huayue nodded. “Get him another set of chains — put a pair on his feet too.”

A group of guards rushed out from the shadows and pinned him down from every side. Only then did De Sheng realize there was no running away, his eyes dimming with despair.

“Let’s talk, then. Why did you beat my man?” Huayue asked, brows furrowed. “I’m not threatening you, but here, you can still say a few things. If that lord of this house comes back and sees this, he might just settle the score in kind and beat you all to death right here.”

De Sheng sucked in a breath of cold air, glanced left and right, and laughed. “Young mistress, this really is a misunderstanding. This one is also, in a sense, acquainted with the Third Young Master — you should believe me no matter what, not the lies of this treacherous slave.”