After Doctor Zhang went in, half an hour passed before he came back out.

Shi Ting hurried to his feet and asked, “Doctor Zhang, how is he?”

Doctor Zhang said, “I have performed acupuncture on the Marshal. This course of acupuncture needs to be carried out for one consecutive week. During that time, the medication must not be stopped. With acupuncture combined with medicinal treatment, there should be some improvement.”

“Then may we go in and see the Marshal?”

Hearing Shi Ting ask this, Qian Lan was immediately on guard and glanced at Doctor Zhang — but Doctor Zhang’s answer put her heart at ease once more.

“The Marshal’s illness is highly contagious. It is inconvenient for visitors right now.”

Qian Lan took the opportunity to speak: “Xingzhi, you see — the Marshal truly is ill, and Doctor Zhang can confirm that he is merely unwell, with no other abnormalities. I know you have always harbored misgivings toward me, but since I married into the Shi Family and became the Marshal’s wife, everything I do is for the Marshal’s sake, for the Shi Family’s sake.”

Shi Ting’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. He gave Qian Lan a respectful bow: “Madam, my words just now were out of line. I offer my sincere apologies and ask for your forgiveness.”

“We are all family — why stand on such ceremony? Small disagreements and friction are perfectly normal, and no one takes them to heart, isn’t that right?” Qian Lan smiled, her eyes curving warmly. “You’ve been traveling a long distance and must be exhausted. Go back and rest well. The Marshal has me here to care for him — you may set your mind completely at ease.”

“Then I shall leave the Marshal in your capable hands, Madam.” Shi Ting turned to Yan Qing and said, “Qing Qing, let us head back.” Yan Qing gave Qian Lan a bow and left shoulder to shoulder with Shi Ting.

“Madam, I shall take my leave as well. At this same time tomorrow, I will come again to administer acupuncture to the Marshal.” Doctor Zhang let out a quiet sigh. “The Marshal’s condition is not optimistic. If this wind-cold ailment is not properly treated, it could easily trigger other complications.”

“Then we shall trouble you to attend to it carefully, Doctor Zhang.” Qian Lan had Magpie bring out two silver coins. “Doctor Zhang, this is your consultation fee.”

Doctor Zhang, however, only took one of them. “Madam need not give me extra each time. I only accept what is rightfully mine.”

Qian Lan smiled. “Doctor Zhang is truly a man of untarnished integrity with the highest of medical ethics. This humble woman is full of admiration.”

Doctor Zhang made a bow. “Madam flatters me. Zhang takes his leave.”

After seeing Doctor Zhang off, Qian Lan hurriedly turned and entered the Marshal’s room. The Marshal was still deep in an unconscious slumber, his face an unnaturally deathly pale.

Gazing at the face before her, Qian Lan’s expression gradually twisted into something savage. How many times had she wanted to take advantage of his deep sleep and plunge a blade into his heart — but she had held herself back.

Because letting him die so easily would be letting him off far too lightly. He had done such a conscienceless thing — he had driven the Chen Family to ruin, wiping out every last one of them. A single life of his could never balance that blood debt.

She wanted the Shi Family to suffer the same fate as the Chen Family. She wanted him to watch with his own eyes as the Shi Family crumbled to nothing, and then she would tell him that all of this was the consequence of his past debauchery — that the one who had brought the Shi Family to such ruin was none other than himself.

She wanted to see his face full of bitter regret. She wanted to see him writhing in agony, wishing he were dead…

Qian Lan’s beautiful face contorted. A frenzied and bloodthirsty gleam flickered in her eyes — yet very quickly, all those dark emotions swept clean from her face, replaced once more by that serene and gentle countenance.

Qian Lan had not forgotten why she had entered the bedroom. She lifted the Marshal’s blanket and looked toward the familiar spot: at his waist was tied a sachet, now lying quietly in place, appearing as though no one had touched it.

But Qian Lan was extremely careful and meticulous. She removed the sachet and examined it closely, and only after confirming there was nothing out of the ordinary did she place it back.

This sachet was something she had given the Marshal when they first met — a token of their affection. The Marshal had kept it with him at all times ever since, carrying it by his side regardless of how many garments he changed into.

After checking that the sachet showed nothing amiss, Qian Lan finally let out a breath. She had been feeling unsettled and paranoid lately. Though she knew there would be no problem with this Doctor Zhang, at a moment like this she had to be extremely cautious. A single misstep would spell irreversible ruin.

Her own life was worth nothing — but the entire Chen Family awaited her in the underworld, waiting for her to personally exact vengeance on their behalf. She could only succeed. She could not fail.

On the other side, while Qian Lan had just put the item back, Zhang’s wife had already had Yan Qing purchase fabric and was now busy sewing a sachet.

She was Qian Lan’s wet nurse, who had accompanied Qian Lan’s side since childhood, teaching her embroidery and how to make scented sachets. The reason the Chen Family had valued Zhang’s wife was precisely because of her renowned needlework in that region.

Seeing Zhang’s wife bent over her needlework, Yan Qing sat watching at her side. She had spent her days following Luo Huaimeng learning embroidery, accumulating a chest full of theoretical knowledge — but her practical results left much to be desired. Only Shi Ting did not find fault with the things she embroidered.

“Zhang’s wife, the Marshal’s sachet has been worn on his person for several months — it will have a certain degree of wear and aging,” Yan Qing reminded her. “Do you have a way to make this sachet look convincingly genuine?”

Zhang’s wife pushed in a needle before replying, “In the past I often took on restoration work, but I have never deliberately aged something. Still, that is not difficult.”

Hearing her say so, Yan Qing finally relaxed. Qian Lan was cautious and suspicious by nature, and especially so given the current situation — she would only be more vigilant than usual. The slightest carelessness would expose them, and all their efforts would be wasted.

Zhang’s wife needed only half a day to embroider a sachet that was identical to Qian Lan’s, and by some method or other, this brand-new sachet looked genuinely worn.

“This one is nearly indistinguishable from the one I saw today. Even examining the stitchwork closely, one can barely tell any difference.” Zhang’s wife’s voice carried a note of confidence. “The Second Miss’s needlework was taught by me, hand in hand — including the patterns she used on the sachets she made afterward, all of which came from what I taught her.”

“Zhang’s wife, thank you.” Yan Qing accepted it happily.

But Zhang’s wife’s expression darkened, her voice sounding very dry: “I never thought the Second Miss would come to be the way she is today. It is truly a grievous thing.”

Even as slow-witted as Zhang’s wife was, she knew that her son’s death had been caused by Qian Lan. She wanted to hate her — yet the bond of all these years was as close as that of mother and daughter, and hatred simply could not coalesce within her chest. This feeling left her wishing she were dead.

At times, she had wanted to end it all — but she was still alive, precisely because she did not want the Second Miss to continue causing harm. The Shi Mansion’s household had nothing to do with the deaths of the Chen Family’s people; innocent persons should not be made to atone for another’s crimes.

Manager Lin’s family, the head steward’s family, and her own family — these people had done nothing wrong, yet they had paid the price for someone else’s sins.

“Zhang’s wife, she was simply blinded by hatred — her mind became twisted,” Yan Qing consoled her. “No one would want to go through all of that.”

“Ah.” Zhang’s wife sighed. “The Second Miss of those days is already gone. Ever since her heart died along with the Madam and the eldest Miss, the person living now is no longer the Second Miss.”

Zhang’s wife had never imagined that hatred could be buried so deeply in the heart of a ten-year-old girl, smoldering unextinguished through all these years — needing only a little sunlight and rain for that seed to sprout and branch, growing at last into a towering tree of revenge.

“All I can do is make this sachet. As for what is inside it — I don’t know what it is, so you’ll have to figure that out on your own.”

What Qian Lan had placed inside the sachet was also something Yan Qing and Shi Ting wanted to know.

Yan Qing had the sachet passed into Doctor Zhang’s hands. Doctor Zhang then stuffed some materials inside. He had smelled that sachet before — it had almost no scent at all — so he identified some materials with a similar texture and placed them inside. Zhang’s wife then re-sewed it shut, and thus a convincing replica sachet was complete.

The next afternoon, Yan Qing was conducting experiments in the Military Police Division’s laboratory with Gu Zhen when Shi Ting knocked on the door from outside.

Yan Qing turned her head to see Shi Ting standing there in full dress uniform, his police cap pressed slightly low, his deep eyes clear and bright.

His uniform was not new — indeed, it had grown rather worn — but worn on him, it did not diminish his bearing or appearance in the slightest. On the contrary, it gleamed all the brighter for his outstanding looks.

As a child, Yan Qing had loved watching the soldiers — seeing them in their military uniforms, red flowers pinned to their chests, climbing into automobiles to go off to the army.

She also loved watching military parades, and whenever she saw those formations marching in perfect unison, her eyes would fill with warm tears.

In her eyes, soldiers were magnificent and capable of anything.

Shi Ting saw Yan Qing watching him with a wide-eyed, endearing expression, and his heart softened involuntarily. He very much wanted to step forward and pull her into his arms for a kiss — but with Gu Zhen present, he maintained a perfectly serious face.

“Yan Qing, come to my office for a moment.”

Yan Qing removed her mask and gloves, exchanged a few words with Gu Zhen, and then rose to meet him at the doorway.

“Does Doctor Zhang have news?” Yan Qing walked beside Shi Ting, turning her head to look at him as she spoke.

Shi Ting noticed there was no one around and at last could not help himself — he bent down and gently pressed his lips to her forehead, then pulled back with a smile: “Madam is seducing me again.”

Yan Qing, who was perpetually being charged with various offenses: “…”

She was wearing a lab coat that hadn’t been washed in several days, and she smelled of mold cultures. How exactly had she managed to seduce anyone.

Yan Qing snorted: “Director Shi’s tastes are truly unique — so you’re fond of this sort of thing, are you?”

“As long as it’s you, I like every kind.”

Yan Qing deliberately rubbed against him. “Let you get a little of the mold smell too.”

Shi Ting didn’t mind in the least. On the contrary, he draped his arm around her shoulder and led her into his office.

The moment they entered his office, he closed the door, leaned down, and with precise accuracy found her lips, beginning his plundering in his domineering way.

Yan Qing was kissed breathless, her back pressed against the wall, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders. That dependent gesture only made the kiss grow deeper and more intense.

After a good while, he finally released her — yet still lingered, reluctant to let go of the arms holding her. His broad forehead rested gently against hers, his slightly ragged breath falling softly against her face.

“You called me over here — surely not just for this?” Yan Qing wrinkled her nose, expressing her displeasure.