Jingrong was astonished. What capability could this Marquis Kang possibly have?

He had long since left his official position at court, and his influence in the capital had also vanished. To help Jingrong enter the capital safely—where would he get such capability?

As if seeing through Jingrong’s concerns, Marquis Kang stood up and walked toward him, his expression serious.

“I, Marquis Kang, am a man of my word and do not speak falsely. Back then, you used the golden armor as collateral to borrow several thousand soldiers from me, even though the entire army was annihilated. I still kept my word without regret. Now it’s a matter of mutual benefit—you want to return to the capital, and I want peace in my household. As long as you investigate the strange occurrences in my manor, I guarantee you can return to the capital safely. These words are absolutely true.”

His words rang with conviction!

Marquis Kang loved treasures and was obsessed with rare objects—this everyone knew. But he had always had an excellent reputation and kept his promises—this everyone also knew.

However—

It wasn’t that Jingrong didn’t trust his word; he was just worried the marquis didn’t have that ability.

“Marquis Kang, you have five thousand private soldiers stationed in your estate, but the Capital Magistrate commands tens of thousands. For you to escort this prince safely into the capital is not as simple as trading rare treasures.”

“Your concerns are warranted.” Marquis Kang spoke frankly. “But since I’ve said this today, these are not empty words. You may choose to trust me.”

“I’d like to hear a bit more.”

“Only if Master Ji agrees.”

Marquis Kang spoke earnestly, his gaze turning to Ji Yinshu.

Ji Yinshu stood up, glanced at the skeptical Jingrong, then lifted her eyes slightly to address Marquis Kang. “If I agree, will Your Lordship keep your word?”

“My word is my bond!”

“Very well, I agree.”

Marquis Kang was overjoyed and breathed a sigh of relief, even bowing to her in courtesy.

Seeing this, Ji Yinshu returned the gesture with cupped hands. “I cannot accept this!”

Jingrong was slightly surprised, glancing at her sideways, silently seeming to ask her reason.

But she had a resolute expression, her mind made up, and turned to Muruo opposite them. “Young Master Mu, I may have to trouble you as well.”

Ah!

Muruo was drinking wine.

He understood what Ji Yinshu meant, so he sighed and looked at Marquis Kang, asking, “Tell me, where are the people?”

Marquis Kang: “A dozen or so people, all in the back courtyard.”

Muruo pushed himself up, dangling a wine jug in his hand, left the great hall and headed toward the back courtyard, casually tossing back a remark: “Let’s go, time to see patients.”

His voice was leisurely!

Ji Yinshu then said to Marquis Kang, “I’ll make a trip to the ancestral hall. Your Lordship should go with Young Master Mu first.”

“Then I’ll trouble you, Master. I’ll come by shortly.”

She nodded.

After everyone left, he pulled Jingrong along and followed the young maid to the ancestral hall!

As for Tang Si, she remained sitting in the great hall, her soul seemingly scattered.

Her eyes stared blankly!

She just felt a chill running down her back, hugging her arms as she shivered.

She muttered through chattering teeth: “I was actually… knocked on by a ghost all night long?”

Terrified beyond measure!

She swallowed hard, her face pale.

With those deeply bagged eyes drooping, she turned them about in confusion, not knowing what to do.

In the back courtyard.

Muruo pushed open a room where there were shared sleeping platforms with a dozen or so people all lying on them.

Everyone was frowning, writhing on the beds in agony, crying out in pain but not daring to make too much noise.

When the door opened and they caught sight of Marquis Kang entering with a man, they all sat up one after another.

They called out in unison: “Your Lordship.”

“You all lie down properly.” Marquis Kang’s face was full of worry as he pointed to the person beside him. “This is Young Master Mu, a divine physician. This marquis has invited him to examine you all.”

Everyone lay on the beds without moving about.

Pairs of eyes seeking help and filled with hope looked at the calm-faced Muruo.

He walked leisurely between the sleeping platforms, his gaze sweeping around once before selecting a relatively young man to diagnose and take his pulse.

That person obediently extended his hand, letting him work.

“Where does it hurt?”

“My whole body hurts.”

“Where hurts the most?”

“My head.”

“Besides your head?”

“Then it’s my chest—it aches and feels stuffy.”

Muruo squinted, thinking. “Stick out your tongue.”

The young fellow was very obedient, sticking his tongue out very far.

Like a pug!

Muruo made an “mm” sound.

The young man’s tongue retracted, and he swallowed, sweating profusely from pain while asking, “Doctor, how am I? What exactly is wrong with me? If this continues, will I die?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t die—you’ll just be in pain.”

“Ah!” the young man exclaimed. “Doesn’t that mean life would be worse than death?”

Muruo patted his robe and stood up, looking at his fearful eyes. “Pretty much. If this continues, it will indeed be a fate worse than death.”

“Then what illness do I have?”

“An internal ailment that needs to be gradually cut off.” Muruo’s words were vague and unclear, making them hard to understand.

What was an internal ailment?

But regardless, they understood the general meaning—they wouldn’t die, but they wouldn’t get better either.

So the people in the room all began to wail.

“Your Lordship, just kill us with one stroke.”

“If this pain continues, we’ll truly wish we were dead! Your Lordship, just kill us.”

Utterly miserable!

Marquis Kang watched helplessly as his household members suffered such pain, yet was powerless to help.

Muruo’s ears hurt a bit, so he went outside.

Marquis Kang quickly followed him out, asking, “Young Master Mu, can’t you find the cause? Must they really suffer like this for a lifetime?”

“Your Lordship, when you ask me this, I actually don’t know either.”

“Don’t know?”

“Let me put it this way—unless they have some illness I don’t know about, or… they’re not actually sick at all.”

“Not sick? That’s impossible!”

“I can only do my best to investigate their symptoms, but if even I can’t diagnose an illness, it can only prove that they’re truly not sick and are just pretending.” Muruo stated directly.

He was a divine physician—there was no illness he couldn’t diagnose!

Marquis Kang pondered deeply.

How could they not be sick?

They were all in such pain.

But since even the divine physician said so, he could only say, “Then I’ll leave it to you.”

Muruo nodded.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Ji Yinshu was on her way to the ancestral hall with Jingrong.

He asked, “Why did you agree?”

“You also saw the letter Second Sister sent. My eldest brother personally stationed troops outside the city to intercept us. What if we can’t force our way in?”

“So you choose to trust Marquis Kang’s words?”

She slowed her steps and looked at him sideways. “This isn’t a question of trust or not. If Marquis Kang can truly let you return to the capital safely, then helping him solve a case is only proper. If he cannot, well, the case is still there—we can’t just ignore it, can we? This is a matter of household peace.”

Her attitude was resolute!

Jingrong sighed deeply, his footsteps also slowing as he gazed at the corridor ahead. “Father Emperor’s secret edict is actually creating difficulties for this prince! Not returning would be defying imperial orders, but returning is arduous! Father Emperor, facing pressure from civil and military officials, first issued a verbal decree forbidding this prince from returning to the capital, then sent a secret edict. The Son of Heaven’s word is law, so he won’t publicly reveal the secret edict. Therefore, returning to the capital—this prince must find his own way.”

Oh, Emperor Qizhen, Emperor Qizhen!

You’ve truly made your son suffer.

Ji Yinshu quietly grasped his hand and said, “I hope this time Marquis Kang can truly keep his word.”

He smiled faintly!

His thoughts were unreadable.

The two arrived at the ancestral hall.

Ji Yinshu finally knew what should have been enshrined on that shelf but had disappeared.

It turned out to be shoes that Marquis Kang had enshrined!

Because it was broad daylight, the people guarding the ancestral hall had been replaced by several young maids.

She looked around inside for a while. This ancestral hall had three doors in total.

One at the entrance, and one on each side of the ancestral tablets.

Outside the entrance door was a courtyard, neither too large nor too small, planted with flowers and plants. The doors on both sides of the ancestral hall led to the back garden, precisely where the decorative rocks had been placed before.

Usually at night, only Old Lady Lin guarded it alone, and all three doors were left open. If someone wanted to take the shoes, it would be easy.

She looked for a long time but didn’t discover anything unusual!

So she called over a maid.

“When those shoes went missing, who was guarding the ancestral hall?”

“Old Lady Lin,” the maid said.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Old Lady Lin only comes over at night.”

Just as these words were spoken, a young maid came rushing in anxiously, stumbling and staggering.

She shouted, “This… this is terrible! Old Lady Lin… she’s dead.”

Uh!

…

At this time in the capital!

These past few days, Consort Xiao’s body felt inexplicably exhausted for some reason, and she was sleeping much more.

In the early morning, she would cough incessantly.

Sang Lan was worried. “Your Highness, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with her delicate hand. “Perhaps… my body is just tired.”

“This servant will summon the imperial physician to examine you.”

“No need. I know my own body. Don’t summon the imperial physician, lest word reaches Yi’er and worries him.”

“But Your Highness, you’re like this…”

“I said I’m fine.” After speaking, she began coughing again, her complexion growing worse and worse, bloodless, her eyes vacant and lifeless.

Sang Lan watched with furrowed brows, but since her mistress wouldn’t let her summon the imperial physician, she could only attend to her from the side.

Early in the morning, Jing Xuan heard that her mother consort’s health was poor, so she had someone prepare a bowl of ginseng soup and hurried over with it.

Her eyes were brimming with worried tears!

“Mother Consort, you must not let your body break down. When your daughter marries, I still need you to see me off.”

Consort Xiao looked at her. “Mother Consort is fine. You needn’t worry. It’s just that the weather hasn’t been good lately, so I caught a chill.”

“As long as you’re all right.” She handed the ginseng soup she’d brought to Consort Xiao. “This is what your daughter specially ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare. Mother Consort, drink it while it’s hot—it will be good for your health.”

“Xuan’er is so thoughtful.”

Consort Xiao drank half the ginseng soup and felt her breathing became much smoother. A smile appeared on her face as she held Jing Xuan’s hand and talked with her for quite a while.

“Mother Consort, you should rest well. Your daughter won’t disturb you anymore.”

“Mm.”

Jing Xuan stood, bowed in courtesy, and left.

After leaving, she took out from her sleeve several pieces of incense she’d brought and gave them to the maid who had been lighting incense for Consort Xiao, instructing, “After the previous incense is finished, light this. Don’t let it run out.”

The incense-lighting maid didn’t think much of it at all and simply agreed.

These past days, she had never let it run out either. Consort Xiao also loved that fragrance—when sleeping at night, she slept very soundly and peacefully.

But just as Jing Xuan’s front foot had barely left, Sang Lan’s voice came from inside the room.