Shen Xihe returned to her chambers where attended by Ziyu and Biyu, she bathed and changed her clothes. Just as she had dried her hair and changed into light sleeping attire, Hongyu’s voice came from outside the door: “Princess, Elder Sister Zhenzhu asked this servant to seek your guidance. The last wound His Highness the Fierce Prince received was poisoned. Elder Sister Zhenzhu has used acupuncture to stop the poison from spreading, but the flesh around His Highness’s wound needs to be scraped away. His Highness is weak and unconscious – if we rashly scrape away the flesh, I fear his body won’t be able to withstand it…”
“Biyu,” Shen Xihe called softly after hearing this, her gaze sweeping across the finely carved, glossy lacquered redwood clothing stand.
Biyu immediately stepped forward respectfully and took down the snow-white fox fur cloak that was draped over the stand, placing it around Shen Xihe’s shoulders.
Drawing the fox fur close with both hands, Shen Xihe went to Xiao Changying’s chambers with her black hair still flowing loose.
It was deep into the night, but candles blazed brightly. Not only was Mo Yuan personally standing guard at the door, but numerous guards and serving maids were also waiting. Seeing Shen Xihe approach in the moonlight, they all hurriedly bowed.
Shen Xihe walked into the room expressionlessly, going straight to the bed in the inner chamber. Zhenzhu had just inserted a silver needle and stood up, looking at Shen Xihe with difficulty: “Princess, this servant can only use needles to prevent the poison from rapidly spreading to His Highness’s vital organs, but if the poisoned flesh isn’t scraped away promptly, I fear His Highness’s arm will be crippled. If we forcibly scrape the flesh, I’m afraid His Highness won’t be able to withstand the pain and will wake up – in such an agitated state, that the poison could attack his heart.
His Highness is currently unconscious, and we just tried giving him pain-numbing medicine but couldn’t get him to swallow it. Moreover, these medicines would aggravate the poison he’s been infected with…”
Although Zhenzhu believed the Fierce Prince’s will was strong enough to endure the pain, he was still a son of dragons and phoenixes. She didn’t dare take any action if there was the slightest risk – if something went wrong, not only would she, a mere servant, pay with her life, but the Shen family would also face His Majesty’s wrath.
Shen Xihe’s cold gaze fell on Xiao Changying’s exposed arm. The knife wound there was deep enough to see bone. The split wound’s flesh had turned purplish-blue and was turned outward from within. The surrounding area was severely swollen, and even the blood was an abnormal blackish-red rather than its usual color. “What’s the latest we can wait before scraping away the poisoned flesh?” she asked.
Zhenzhu looked at Xiao Changying’s complexion and said conservatively: “Half an hour.”
“That’s enough.” Shen Xihe turned to instruct Biyu and Ziyu, “Ziyu, there were datura flowers in the fields where I went walking earlier. Have Mo Yuan send someone to accompany you to gather some. Biyu, go fetch my incense implements.”
The two maids quickly obeyed and went to carry out their tasks. Zhenzhu followed Shen Xihe as she walked outside: “Princess, do you intend to concoct a hallucinogenic incense to make His Highness enter an illusory state?”
“Besides this, what other option do we have?” Shen Xihe asked after sitting down at the main seat of the main hall.
“But this incense…” Zhenzhu wanted to question further but suddenly realized she was almost overstepping her bounds. She quickly stopped and lowered her head.
“At this point, we have no other choice. If his arm becomes crippled, we won’t escape punishment; if he’s careless and the poison attacks his heart, we’ll deserve death even more.” Shen Xihe extended her hand to clean it again in the hot water Hongyu had prepared. “Either way we can’t escape a bad end, so we might as well take this risk.”
Zhenzhu’s brows twitched slightly. She looked up at Shen Xihe somewhat probingly. They had all followed Shen Xihe since childhood, especially Zhenzhu – as the daughter of Shen Xihe’s wet nurse, who had been part of Shen Xihe’s mother’s dowry, Zhenzhu understood Shen Xihe better than anyone.
She sat behind the desk, supporting her chin with one hand, eyes closed at rest. The soft yellow candlelight fell across her face, bringing out a porcelain-like luster from her unusually fair skin.
Though she still appeared so delicate – so delicate that anyone would want to protect her behind them, to shield her from all the world’s hardships, wishing only for her to bloom without worry and spread her fragrance throughout the garden.
Yet her back seemed supported by an invisible ruler, keeping it perfectly straight – the ultimate example of bending but not breaking, with resilience carrying an air of authority.
If it weren’t for the fact that the Princess remembered everything, that her physical condition was still exactly as she had always known it to be, and that the birthmark on her back couldn’t be faked, Zhenzhu would have suspected that her mistress whom she had served since childhood had been replaced by someone else.
Perhaps Lingrong’s betrayal had truly been an enormous blow to the Princess. After experiencing life and death, the Princess had truly transformed – but this transformation pained Zhenzhu’s heart.
Ziyu and Biyu returned one after another, interrupting Zhenzhu’s contemplation. Shen Xihe hadn’t missed Zhenzhu’s suspicion, but she couldn’t be bothered to address it. She was Shen Xihe now, and Shen Xihe was her. She needed to change imperceptibly, letting them adapt to an entirely new Shen Xihe.
Incense was currently in vogue, particularly among scholars and men of letters, and was also highly revered in Buddhist temples.
This led to incense-making becoming an essential skill for noble young ladies to learn. Not only could it cultivate a lady’s deportment, but families also hoped their daughters could share common interests with their future husbands from noble houses.
Shen Xihe had always been a refined young woman. Shen Yueshan had specially invited famous teachers from Jiangnan to carefully instruct her, though these masters only taught her elegant creations, never mentioning a word about harmful applications.
While others treated incense-making as merely an elegant hobby, she alone liked using these elegant things to kill and harm people.
She boiled the water infused with datura flowers mixed with several spices until it dried, leaving behind a layer of white powder.
Incense came in many forms – stick incense, coiled incense, incense tablets, incense seals, incense balls, and powder incense. Among these, powder incense in its powdered state produced the purest and richest fragrance, taking effect most noticeably. Shen Xihe was preparing powder incense.
Good incense required careful crafting and time; some special incense even needed to be made at specific hours. However, time was limited now – rough preparation would suffice as long as it achieved the desired effect.
Shen Xihe placed the ash made from burned datura stems and roots in the incense burner, used an ash presser to flatten it, and then took an incense spoon to make a slight depression in the center of the ash before pouring in the refined powder incense.
Covering her nostrils with silk, she picked up the incense burner and walked to the bedside, sitting on the edge.
After lighting the incense burner, when white smoke began curling up, Shen Xihe’s pale white hand gently fanned it, and the thin smoke moved with the air, all being inhaled by Xiao Changying.
After about half an incense stick’s time, Xiao Changying had fallen into a deep dream state. Fearing he might break free, Shen Xihe hadn’t left his side. Zhenzhu seized the opportunity, having Biyu and the others hold down Xiao Changying’s hands and feet. Taking the heat-treated knife from Ziyu’s hands, she cut into the increasingly swollen, rotting flesh.
“Cold…”
The tremendous pain made Xiao Changying struggle violently even in his hallucinatory state. His hand broke free from Ziyu’s grip and seized Shen Xihe’s hand. The enormous force instantly left purple bruises on Shen Xihe’s lotus-root-white arm, nearly causing her to drop the incense burner she was holding.
“Continue cutting.” When Zhenzhu and the others hesitated, Shen Xihe commanded without changing her expression.
Bright red blood trickled down Shen Xihe’s arm, creating a stark contrast between the striking red and the snow-like white of her skin.
Datura commonly grows near residences, along roadsides, or in grassy areas.
It’s a very common flower – though it might be hard to find in cities nowadays if you pay attention in rural areas, it’s actually quite easy to spot.