Xie Zhifei took the letter and quickly scanned it. His peach blossom eyes slowly lifted, finally showing a trace of a smile.

“Young master, is the Old Madam’s health better?” Zhu Qing asked.

“She can drink half a bowl of thin congee.”

Xie Zhifei looked at Yan Sanhe, his gaze meaningful.

“Even so, she still instructed me to take good care of Miss Yan, not to let Miss Yan be wronged.”

“I can’t bear it!”

Miss Yan coldly returned him three words.

Having traveled together for five days, Xie Zhifei had more or less figured out Yan Sanhe’s temperament.

Without mentioning the Xie family, no matter how cold her expression, it was fine. But as soon as the Xie family was mentioned, this person sprouted countless thorns.

At such times, he should stay as far away as possible.

“Bring paper and brush.”

Xie Zhifei calculated the days—it had already been four days since he’d sent word home, too busy rushing along the road.

Zhu Qing requested paper and brush from the station waiter. “Young master, write a bit more. When the Old Madam receives the letter and is happy, maybe her illness will improve.”

“Young master!”

Ding Yi came forward to grind ink. “Don’t just report good news and hide bad—this errand of ours…”

“So much nonsense from you!”

Xie Zhifei worried this would be overheard by Yan Sanhe and quickly cut him off. Still uneasy, he stole a glance at her with his peripheral vision.

With this glance, his heart lurched.

Yan Sanhe’s pair of pitch-black pupils were utterly motionless, the steamed bun in her hand having fallen to the ground without her noticing.

Here we go again!

Xie Zhifei had gained some experience this time. He stepped forward and waved his hand in front of her.

“Miss Yan?”

“Miss Yan?”

Miss Yan’s eye sockets slowly reddened, as if she’d suffered a tremendous grievance, a trace of moisture seeping out.

But this grievance came quickly and left quickly.

A moment later she was grinding her teeth again, that grinding making a cracking sound, as if she were forcefully tearing at something.

Xie Zhifei was so shocked even his breathing stopped.

Could Ding Yi have been right—was she really possessed by a ghost?

Yan Sanhe actually heard him calling her, but her heart hurt too much—as if it had been forcibly carved in two by a dagger, one half disbelief, the other half inconceivable.

Together it was heart-piercing pain, pain that made life unbearable.

She pinched herself hard and said in a trembling voice, “Return to the capital.”

Xie Zhifei was so shocked his jaw nearly hit the ground. “You, what did you say?”

Yan Sanhe: “Return! To! The! Capital!”

Xie Zhifei’s mind spun rapidly. “You’ve already…”

Yan Sanhe: “Not certain.”

Xie Zhifei: “Then going back is to…”

Yan Sanhe sneered coldly. “Don’t you want to try?”

Xie Zhifei’s heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

I hadn’t even finished speaking—how does she know what I was going to say?

Yan Sanhe saw him standing there dazed and reached for her bundle herself. Her hand had just touched the edge when the bundle was snatched away.

“Wait!”

Third Master Xie looked tense. “How confident are you?”

Yan Sanhe: “Ten percent.”

“Ten percent?!”

All the open fires, hidden fires, heavenly fires, and earthly fires that Third Master Xie had been suppressing for five days all blazed up at once.

“If you’re wrong, won’t this back and forth delay time?”

“What if I’m right?”

“…”

Yan Sanhe stepped forward, her gaze boring into him. “Can you afford to gamble?”

“…”

“Can your Xie family afford to gamble?”

“…”

“Can your half-dead old ancestor afford to gamble?”

“…”

On Third Master Xie’s handsome face, even his pores were clamoring with collapse.

This wasn’t some living bandit—this was clearly a living King of Hell.

“That…”

Third Master Xie took several deep breaths, deciding to make one last struggle.

“Could you reveal what that ten percent confidence is?”

“You don’t need to know!”

“…”

Third Master Xie’s handsome face instantly flushed red—if the wind blew on it, it could emit smoke.

What good temper, what sweet words, what aristocratic young master’s grace…

All go to hell!

He thought to himself: No wonder even that shrewd and slippery Xie Xiaohua wanted to jump in rage—Third Master also fucking wants to kill someone right now!

…

On the official road, several fine horses raced swiftly, raising clouds of dust.

The sun rose and fell.

Strong winds blew up, rain fell down.

For four straight days, neither carriage nor horses stopped once, rushing toward the capital at maximum speed.

Only when that luxurious, sturdy carriage made several cracking sounds and both wheels shattered completely were they all forced to stop.

Yan Sanhe climbed out from inside the carriage. Though covered in dust and dirt, her expression was calm.

“No need to repair it. I’ll ride a horse.”

Third Master Xie wiped the dust from his face and jumped down from the carriage.

“Repairs are quick—won’t take long. It’s still five or six hundred miles to the capital, and the weather looks like it’s about to…”

“You talk too much!”

Yan Sanhe pulled the reins from his hand, stepped on the stirrup, mounted the horse, and galloped off.

Third Master Xie: “…”

He spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm and licked his teeth.

“In all my years, this is the first time I’ve seen such a woman.”

“Young master, can she even count as a woman?”

Ding Yi curled his lip. “If all the women in the world were like her, I’d rather stay a bachelor for life.”

“Less nonsense!”

Though Third Master Xie complained, he clearly distinguished priorities. “Abandon the carriage. Unhitch the horses and ride them. Don’t waste time—hurry.”

“Yes!”

…

The Xie Manor.

Sien Hall.

Xie Erli stood at the courtyard gate, pacing back and forth.

“They’re here, they’re here, people are here.”

Xie Erli’s expression brightened as he hurried forward. “Uncle Pei, you’ve come!”

Imperial Physician Pei joked, “These past few days I’ve been running to your Xie manor so much my legs have gotten thinner. Speak—who’s sick this time?”

Xie Erli smiled bitterly. “Still the Old Madam. This evening she said her chest felt uncomfortable and went to bed early. By now, we can’t wake her.”

“I’ll go take a look.”

“Please!”

Imperial Physician Pei entered the east wing and bowed to Madam Wu standing at the bedside. Wu quickly yielded the spot at the head of the bed.

Three fingers pressed down—Imperial Physician Pei’s expression slowly grew grave.

Wu asked worriedly, “How is it?”

Imperial Physician Pei said nothing, concentrating on the diagnosis for quite a while longer before nodding to Wu, indicating they should speak outside.

The three came to the outer room.

Imperial Physician Pei frowned. “By rights, the Old Madam could even walk around a few days ago. This illness shouldn’t be serious, but today this pulse…”

Wu’s eyes widened. “What about the pulse?”

Imperial Physician Pei shook his head. “Compared to those previous days, it seems even more dangerous.”

“How has it become dangerous again!”

Wu exclaimed, “She was talking and laughing with us just yesterday.”

Imperial Physician Pei didn’t know what to say either, only consoling her, “With advanced age, ups and downs are common. Madam, make early preparations.”

Wu blurted out, “What’s the worst preparation?”

Imperial Physician Pei steeled himself to answer. “Whatever needs to be prepared, prepare it in advance!”

Wu felt as if struck by lightning, involuntarily stepping back half a step.

Imperial Physician Pei saw this and said to Xie Erli, “I won’t write a new prescription. Just follow the original one. Young Master, if you’re not reassured, you might invite other imperial physicians to examine the Old Madam.”

Xie Erli felt as if ten thousand arrows pierced his heart.

Uncle Pei was a top-ranked physician at the Imperial Medical Bureau, had treated the Xie family for twenty years, and had never made a wrong diagnosis—why would they need another imperial physician?

The forty-nine days had passed. Was the Xie family truly going to face misfortune? Was the Old Madam the first?

If so, who would be next?