The words had barely left Shi Yutong’s mouth before a furious rebuke rang out. “You’re acting like you can’t wait for her to be cursed to death.”

Shi Yutong had only asked on impulse, never expecting the Marshal — who had followed close behind her — to overhear. The moment she heard his voice, Shi Yutong visibly flinched, a cold sweat running down her back.

“I — I didn’t mean it that way. I was only trying to show concern.” Shi Yutong’s explanation carried little weight before the Marshal.

The Marshal shot her a withering look and swept away.

Shi Yutong thought of how the Marshal used to dote on her, and beneath the bitterness rising in her heart, a fury she could not suppress blazed up alongside it.

“Qian Lan — it’s all because of you. It’s because of you that my mother and I have ended up like this. Why won’t you die? Why didn’t you die?” A wild, venomous light burned in Shi Yutong’s eyes as she glared at the entrance of Zhuo Xin Courtyard, nearly ready to tear through it.

Meanwhile, inside, Qian Lan had still not regained consciousness. The Marshal questioned the doctor endlessly, until the poor man was nearly trembling with anxiety.

“All right, all right.” The Old Madam’s eyes were spinning from watching him pace back and forth. “Didn’t the doctor say there’s nothing seriously wrong? How many times have you asked?”

The Marshal said, “Mother, Lan’er nearly lost her life over this. Surely now you believe she is innocent?”

The Old Madam sighed. “We were wrong to blame her yesterday. She was willing to stake her own life to prove her innocence — it’s clear she truly knew nothing about what happened to Jing’er.”

Hearing this, Nanny Liu immediately added from the side, “Old Madam, Marshal — I know Madam’s character better than anyone. She is pure-hearted and treats others with sincerity and warmth. How could she ever do something so wicked? Yesterday’s events came too suddenly — from Jing’er’s vomiting to the allergic reaction and hospital stay, it was as though someone had arranged it all deliberately, giving no one a chance to react.”

Nanny Liu’s words gave both the Marshal and the Old Madam pause. Thinking it over carefully, the events of yesterday did seem rather suspicious, and Qian Lan’s demeanor at the time had not looked like someone acting a part — she had likely genuinely known nothing.

If Qian Lan was innocent, then who had placed the sesame seeds in Jing’er’s pillow — Du Linghua, or Shi Yutong?

Clearly, both the Marshal and the Old Madam were more inclined toward Shi Yutong.

“Xingzhi.” The Marshal stepped out of the room into the outer sitting room, where Shi Ting and Yan Qing were talking.

Shi Ting heard the Marshal calling him and rose. “Marshal.”

“Xingzhi, have someone look into Yutong.”

Shi Ting frowned. “Yutong?”

“Yesterday, when Jing’er had his episode — why was she so insistent on having Jing’er’s room searched?”

“Is the Marshal suggesting that Yutong is the one who put that sesame pillow there?”

“I believe Lan’er wouldn’t do something like that.” The Marshal had Nanny Liu bring over the pillow. “Have your people look into it. If this truly was someone’s deliberate doing, there may be some clue on it.”

“Understood.” Shi Ting took it. The small pillow was light, carrying a faint, gentle scent of milk.

“Whoever did it — anyone who plays games with Jing’er’s life will not be spared.” There was a sharp, ruthless clarity in the Marshal’s eyes.

It was evident that he had already made up his mind about Shi Yutong.

Yan Qing watched everything unfolding before her, unsure whether to feel amused or sorrowful.

One was a woman the Marshal had only recently brought into the household. The other was a daughter he had raised for nearly twenty years. And the Marshal had made his choice between the two with almost no hesitation at all.

After the Marshal went back inside, Shi Ting turned the small pillow over in his hands repeatedly.

“What kind of clue could a pillow possibly yield?” Yan Qing curved her lips slightly. “That pillow was made on the Third Concubine’s side, and she insists that what she put inside was buckwheat, not sesame. Are we going to torture a confession out of the Third Concubine?”

“The Marshal is simply looking for an excuse to clear Qian Lan.” Shi Ting set the pillow aside. “You examined Qian Lan’s injuries — what did you find?”

“Qian Lan had calculated the timing in advance. When she heard the maids’ footsteps, she kicked over the stool and at the same time gripped the rope tightly on both sides with her hands — something like a pull-up motion. When the maids pushed the door open, she let go and let the rope settle around her neck. This method ensures she wouldn’t die, but it would certainly cause her to lose consciousness.” Yan Qing said. “There are obvious rope marks pressed into her palms — someone who had genuinely hanged themselves would not have those kinds of marks.”

Shi Ting had anticipated yesterday that Qian Lan would resort to desperate measures — burning her bridges, seeking survival through the appearance of death. If she didn’t “die,” she would lose the Old Madam’s trust entirely, along with the reputation she had worked so hard to build.

She had staged a performance of self-inflicted suffering and had successfully rebuilt the Old Madam’s trust in her while making the Marshal feel all the more tender and guilty at once.

This “death” of hers had been very well worth dying.

“Finding out who tampered with that pillow isn’t actually so difficult.” Shi Ting lifted his teacup and took a sip. “I only need to let it be known that we’ve found a clue pointing to the mastermind. Given Shi Yutong’s nature, she will do everything she can to get her hands on that pillow, and then it’s just a matter of setting a trap for her to walk into.”

Yan Qing smiled faintly. “So my husband has no intention of actually exposing Shi Yutong?”

Shi Ting said, “Why not sit back and watch the tigers fight? When my lady persuaded Du Linghua at the time, wasn’t it also with the intention of using her to keep Qian Lan in check?”

Whether it was Yan Qing or Shi Ting, both had caught the scent of a deeper scheme. Qian Lan had not yet extended her reach in their direction, but who could guarantee that her ultimate aim wasn’t them? With Du Linghua and Shi Yutong charging ahead on the front lines right now, they could use them to probe Qian Lan’s limits. Shi Ting had no intention of meddling at this stage — all he could do, and all he would do, was stand aside and wait to see how things unfolded.

Just then, a burst of jubilant voices came from inside the room.

“Madam is awake.”

“Thank goodness — Madam is awake.”

Yan Qing and Shi Ting exchanged a glance and rose to go inside.

Qian Lan had just come to and was still somewhat weak. The Marshal sat at her bedside, her hand held tightly within both of his.

The joy on his face was like a man who had recovered a priceless treasure thought lost forever.

Yan Qing knew that after this, Qian Lan’s place in the Marshal’s heart would become even more important — because he would never allow the tragedy of Huiyuan to repeat itself.

As it turned out, Yan Qing’s assessment was correct.

From the day Qian Lan returned from the brink of death, the Marshal stayed by her side day and night, attending to everything himself. It had been a long time since he had visited the library building, and anyone who came to see him was now directed to the study in Zhuo Xin Courtyard.

When Shi Ting came home, he relayed the complaints of Chief Secretary Qin to Yan Qing — Chief Secretary Qin had pressing matters to discuss with the Marshal, but the Marshal had been distracted throughout, and midway through their conversation, upon hearing that the Madam had vomited again, he had promptly abandoned the man in the study and failed to return for half an hour.

“The Marshal wasn’t always like this.” Shi Ting frowned. “He has a few concubines, but he would never neglect affairs of state for the sake of a beautiful woman. On the contrary — the Marshal normally spends his days in the brick building, diligent and conscientious about governance, and rarely even comes home.”

“Can Qian Lan’s charms really be so powerful?” Yan Qing was equally puzzled.

If it were merely a matter of newlywed excitement, then neglecting affairs of state to this degree still seemed strange. The Marshal was no ordinary man — he was the master of Bei Di, with an endless mountain of governance to manage every day.

Yan Qing could well imagine that the brick building must be in a state of frantic disorder right now.

Shi Ting said, “I heard another thing as well. Liu Yin told me the Marshal has been taking medicine every day — and it’s tonic medicine of a particular kind.”

Yan Qing’s expression flickered slightly.

“The Marshal is already past fifty. Faced each day with a beautiful young wife, he will inevitably find himself falling short at times, so at moments like these he needs medication to compensate.”

Yan Qing said, “That kind of medicine is all right occasionally, but if taken over a long period, it will inevitably cause damage to the liver and kidneys, or even trigger other illnesses.”

“But this isn’t something I, as his son, am able to raise with the Marshal.” Shi Ting said with concern. “I do worry that the Marshal’s health will be worn down. His complexion is already noticeably worse than before.”

Yan Qing thought for a moment. “I could have someone prepare some restorative medicine for the Marshal, but with the drain exceeding what can be replenished, it would likely only treat the symptom and not the cause.”

At that moment, someone outside came to announce that Qian Lan had arrived.

The two exchanged a glance — neither knew what had brought Qian Lan here. This was also the first time in a month, since her brush with death, that she had set foot in Shi Ting’s courtyard.

Qian Lan arrived with two maids and immediately began singing the courtyard’s praises the moment she stepped inside.

“I had long heard that Xingzhi’s courtyard is arranged with charming elegance. Seeing it today, I find the reputation is well deserved.” Qian Lan wore a plain-colored qipao, and a month of recuperation had left her looking fair as snow, lovely as jade, every gesture full of effortless grace.

Erdan had by now grown into a proper tiger’s form. To keep him from frightening people, Yan Qing had carved out a small enclosure in the rear courtyard, fenced it in, and only released him to roam freely at night when no one was around.

So Qian Lan saw nothing of the legendary white tiger when she entered.

Shi Ting and Yan Qing came out together to welcome her. Just as Yan Qing was about to bow in greeting, Qian Lan caught her arm. “Yan Qing, why are you being so formal with me?”

Qian Lan smiled. “I’ve come unannounced because there’s something I’d like to discuss with you both.”

Yan Qing smiled back. “I wonder what it is, Madam. If it’s something within my ability, I will certainly do my best.”

“It’s about Jing’er. His hundredth-day celebration is coming up soon. He is the Marshal’s youngest son and the treasure of the Shi Mansion, so I would like the banquet to be a grand one.” Qian Lan spoke with a gentle tone, her expression warm and approachable. “The Second Concubine has stepped back from managing the rear courtyard and no longer involves herself in such matters, and the Third Concubine has always had reservations about me, so it would be awkward for her to take a role. I’ve thought it over from every angle, and there’s truly no one else I can turn to but you.”

Jing’er had not been returned to the Third Concubine. On the contrary, he had been in Qian Lan’s care all along, and by all accounts was growing plump and healthy.

—