The golden pitcher’s lid was missing, with its interior divided into two compartments by a thin copper sheet, which had separately held wine and poison. Correspondingly, there should have been two air holes on the handle, but most of it was covered in silt. Li Yuanxu decided the layer of grime on the pitcher’s surface was no longer useful and rubbed it off.

As the residue fell away, two small holes appeared side by side on the handle. The handle was crafted in the shape of a dragon, joined to the pitcher’s body, with the holes cleverly concealed under the dragon’s neck scales, nearly invisible unless specifically sought. When pouring, pressing the left hole with one’s thumb would release liquid from the right chamber, and vice versa, making it perfect for public poisoning at banquets without arousing suspicion.

Such an intricate pitcher could only be meant for poisoning. No wonder the Pei father and son considered the case solved upon finding it, and even former Eastern Palace officials like Wei Zheng and other nobles raised no objections—the victim was poisoned at an Eastern Palace banquet, the poison pitcher was found near the Eastern Palace banquet hall, naturally pointing to the former Crown Prince’s involvement.

Li Yuanxu sighed and shifted his attention from the handle to the body.

The pitcher’s surface was uneven, but where visible beneath the grime, showed fine patterns and flowing engravings, seemingly of some beast. He continued removing the residue down to the bottom, revealing a creature with a dragon’s head and horse’s body, galloping dynamically through clouds with all four hooves airborne.

Dragon head and horse body… why did that description sound familiar?

“If only Third Sister’s and Fifth Sister’s husbands were here,” Li Yuanxu handed the pitcher to Yang Xinzhi, “They could verify if this was the pitcher One Niang used to serve wine at that celebratory wedding banquet in Wude’s eighth-year…”

“This pattern,” Yang Xinzhi suddenly said, “looks like the dragon-horse motif commonly used by the Tuyuhun royal family.”

“Tuyuhun?” the others asked in unison. How did Tuyuhun come into this?

“Yes. The main Tuyuhun tribes grazed around Qinghai Lake, which has Dragon Colt Island. In winter, locals would drive mares across the ice to the island. Come spring thaw, with no humans present, sea dragons would mate with the mares, producing extraordinarily strong colts swift as the wind. The following winter, herders would return to collect these dragon colts as studs. This is why Qinghai horses are famous for their divine qualities. When Sui Emperor Yang personally conquered Tuyuhun, he also left mares on the sea-heart mountain, vainly hoping for dragon offspring, but naturally failed.”

Yang Xinzhi’s detailed explanation reminded Li Yuanxu that during Sui Emperor Yang’s campaign against Tuyuhun in Daye’s fifth year, Yang Xinzhi’s grandfather Yang Xiong had commanded all military forces. Yang Xiong achieved great merit in that battle and was titled “Prince of Guan” upon returning to the capital, marking the pinnacle of the Yang family’s prominence. Central Asian campaign armies generally allowed plunder, so his family likely acquired many precious gold and silver items from Tuyuhun, which Yang Xinzhi would have seen growing up.

“The Murong royal family of Tuyuhun especially favored this dragon-horse pattern,” Yang Xinzhi pointed at the pitcher. “Tuyuhun craftsmen worked independently, so while dragon-horse patterns might vary slightly between items, this basic design of dragon head, horse body, and surrounding clouds is unmistakable…”

He passed the pitcher to Chai Yingluo. The Daoist priestess took it, frowning as she examined it closely, murmuring:

“How did a poison pitcher with Tuyuhun royal patterns end up in the Eastern Palace in Wude’s eighth year…”

This was also Li Yuanxu’s question. Although Tuyuhun had frequently raided Tang borders since the mid-Wude period, engaging in yearly warfare, their overall interaction with Chang’an was limited. Except for border commanders, most Tang people were unfamiliar with Tuyuhun.

“Probably brought by foreign merchants,” Yang Xinzhi said. “With the Western Regions trade routes closed, merchant caravans mostly took the Qinghai route, passing through the Tuyuhun capital for frequent trade. Chang’an nobles loved gold and silver items, while Tuyuhun people greatly desired our silk fabrics. With Qinghai rivers rich in gold sand, merchants would trade silk for local gold and silver items, selling them to Chang’an officials for multiple profits… Ah, Upper Truth Master, give it here.”

He suddenly remembered something and asked Chai Yingluo for the pitcher back. Turning it over, he scratched at the residue on the bottom with his fingernail for a while before exclaiming: “Just as I thought!”

“What?” Chai Yingluo leaned in to look. “What did you find?”

“Look at the bottom—there’s a merchant’s inscription.” Yang Xinzhi pointed to the small area he’d just cleared. The Daoist priestess squinted and hesitantly asked:

“This is… writing? Such script exists?”

Li Yuanxu also leaned in to look. Indeed, where the grime had been cleared, there was a line of patterns different from the surrounding cloud motifs, like connected circles with occasional curved lines and dots, completely unlike Chinese characters. Most people wouldn’t have recognized it as writing.

“What does the inscription say?”

Yang Xinzhi spread his hands with a wry smile: “That’s beyond me, Fourteenth Lord. I only recognize it as merchant script from seeing it at home, but I don’t understand a word of it.”

Li Yuanxu thought for a moment and said to Chai Yingluo: “Ying Niang, is that foreign maid Fendui still at the temple? Have someone call her over to read this?”

Yesterday after leaving Xianyang, Li Yuanxu had ordered Achen and Fendui not to return to Da’an Palace but to wait at Purple Void Temple, where they’d reunited last night. Chai Yingluo agreed and went to summon the foreign girl, returning with her shortly.

The black-haired girl wore her hair in two buns and was dressed in robes and trousers, still appearing timid as she entered and bowed. Li Yuanxu called her over and asked if she could read foreign script—although she claimed to have learned Chinese writing from her Han Chinese mother since childhood, being a merchant’s daughter, she likely learned her paternal tribe’s writing as well.

Fendui confirmed she could read it. Chai Yingluo showed her the strange patterns just cleaned from the dragon-horse gilt pitcher’s bottom. The black-haired girl knelt, tilting her head to examine it closely, scanning from top to bottom before saying softly:

“This is the craftsman’s signature after completing the piece. These characters name him, which in the Tang language would be ‘Pantuo.’ Below it says ‘Made one pair of gold pitchers at Fuqi City, weighing thirty staters.'”

“Fuqi City? The Tuyuhun capital?” Though prepared, Li Yuanxu still felt excitement. So the pitcher really came from Tuyuhun?

“What are staters?” Chai Yingluo asked. Fendui replied: “That’s the weight measurement used by foreign merchants, roughly equivalent to Tang ‘jin’ and ‘liang.'”

So this pitcher was made by a craftsman named “Pantuo” in the Tuyuhun capital, weighing thirty “staters.” Chinese regions also had the custom of marking weights on completed gold items, mainly to prevent handlers from secretly keeping precious metals—that wasn’t unusual. Li Yuanxu asked Fendui:

“Having seen many merchant goods at your family home, have you encountered items with patterns similar to this pitcher? Or does this item remind you of anything?”