Sure enough, with a full hour still left before sunset, Feng Rui could no longer contain himself.

“Let’s go take a look,” he said, rising and starting outside.

Just then, no sooner had the guard pushed the door open than someone came hurrying up.

“Greetings, General!” the man said, bowing with cupped hands.

“What is it?” Feng Rui frowned.

He knew this was one of the men he had assigned to watch Old General Yuan.

“Reporting, General—Old General Yuan has fainted,” the guard reported in a low voice.

“What?” Feng Rui gave a cold snort. “Get the army physician over there. Let’s see what tricks he’s trying to pull!”

“Yes.” The guard nodded and turned to leave.

Feng Rui waved a hand and continued forward.

Outside Old General Yuan’s chamber, the Yuan family guards stood with swords drawn against the men stationed outside.

“Quick! Go find a physician. If anything at all happens to Old General Yuan, our Yuan family army won’t let you off!”

Feng Rui had just rounded the corner from the corridor when he caught sight of this scene.

“Such big words! If not for the Emperor, where would the Yuan family army even be?”

He came to the doorway, swept his eyes over the guards, and shoved the door open forcefully.

“Old Yuan, you’d best not try any tricks. Don’t think that just because the little brat has reached Chen Family Village, I have no way to deal with you.”

The guard standing watch by the bed saw Feng Rui approaching and immediately drew his sword, blocking the way.

Before Feng Rui could grow angry, the guard suddenly threw down his sword, turned, and knelt.

“Old General Yuan has had a raging fever that won’t break, and he’s since fainted dead away. If you don’t save him, don’t think you’ll get your tiger tally!”

The guard knelt before Old General Yuan, his body and voice trembling, as though holding back some great pain.

“Save him, quickly! Killing us won’t help you—apart from Old General Yuan, no one at all knows where the tally is.”

Feng Rui stared at the man on the bed and did not advance any further.

The chamber fell silent for a moment before the army physician hurried in.

“General, what’s happened?”

Feng Rui glanced back, then turned and sat down in a nearby chair.

“Go take a look. He ate the poison you gave him—why has it come to this?”

“Quickly!” His voice suddenly rose. “Hurry up and wake him!”

As Feng Rui’s anger flared, the physician standing before him lost his footing and dropped to his knees.

“Y-yes, yes, yes, I’ll go right away.” The physician, thoroughly frightened, struggled to his feet, his steps unsteady.

He stumbled to the bedside and lifted Old General Yuan’s hand.

“Ah, he’s burning up! How, how could this be?”

The physician’s legs went weak again, and he sat down at the bedside.

He touched Old General Yuan’s forehead, and the hand he’d reached out with began to tremble violently.

“Impossible! How could he have a fever? This shouldn’t be… this shouldn’t be happening?”

Feng Rui turned his head and swept a glance over the guard on watch, saying in a low voice, “Explain yourself. Why?”

The man on the bed was truly in a bad way—even he wasn’t so blind as to miss that.

The guard cupped his hands and answered quietly, “General, I have not left this spot for even a step. I can guarantee no one has entered this room.”

Feng Rui’s brow tightened, and he turned to look at the small window outside.

The window was tiny—barely large enough for a child to pass through. That was precisely why they’d chosen this chamber.

No one would have guessed that a woman might also fit through it—a woman’s frame wasn’t much larger than a child’s.

Feng Rui composed himself, his gaze falling on Old General Yuan’s other guard.

The guard frowned and pulled several small vials from inside his robe, setting them on the table.

“These are the antidotes I prepared for Old General Yuan. But he’s too weak—he hasn’t managed to swallow even one.”

“Clearly you’re the one who administered the poison—so why aren’t you doing something about it, and quickly?”