Gao Yuexing finally found the right direction.
Early the next morning, assistance from the Medicine Valley arrived, personally led by the medicine servants who brought the necessary supplies.
Upon learning that it was not an epidemic, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Since it was poison—and not a deadly one that kills on contact—there must be a way to resolve it. Medicine Valley was well-equipped to handle such matters with ease.
The only tricky case was Kong Rangchen.
He had been soaked in water for too long, and his legs were already rotted, exposing raw, bloody flesh. Their initial judgment was that the poison had been introduced into the water nearby, and the toxic, dirty water had seeped into his wounds, permeating his entire bloodstream. Completely eliminating it would be extremely difficult.
Yaonu lifted the blanket covering him.
His legs, from the knees down, were almost entirely in ruins.
The poison made his wounds heal very slowly. His dressings had to be changed twice a day, each time with the copper basin filled with bloody water.
Kong Rangchen had been in a high fever for two days and remained unconscious.
Gao Yuexing moistened his chapped lips with some water. Kong Rangchen instinctively sipped it into his mouth, but he showed no signs of waking.
Yaonu sighed.
Gao Yuexing felt deeply distressed.
Without saying a word, Yaonu got up and left. Gao Yuexing followed her, having already noticed that Langdu was not among those who had come from Medicine Valley. She seized the opportunity to ask, “How is Senior Brother Langdu’s health?”
Back then, his life had been saved, and he returned to Medicine Valley to recuperate. Later, in their correspondence, Langdu’s words were lighthearted, conveying the impression that he had greatly recovered.
But Yaonu would not lie. Hearing Gao Yuexing’s question, she answered truthfully: “His life was saved, but his body cannot fully recover. He cannot leave the valley, cannot be without attendants, and must avoid the wind and cold as much as possible… Living a normal lifespan is difficult, but with Medicine Valley’s care, living another twenty years should be no problem.”
Gao Yuexing felt an overwhelming wave of sorrow.
Yaonu said, “Ah Xing, you don’t need to feel this way. People like you are too kindhearted, always belittling yourselves while valuing others too highly. You don’t realize that taking good care of yourself is the greatest comfort to those around you. Now that you’ve experienced this, you must cherish yourself more in the future, understand?”
Gao Yuexing nodded. “You’re right, Senior Sister.”
Zhao Tongsheng came to bid farewell to Gao Yuexing.
He had originally been escorting disaster relief grain and had already been delayed for several days. Recently, upon hearing that the situation in the city was not an epidemic but a false alarm, he had finally been relieved. As an imperial guard serving the emperor, he needed to complete his mission and return to the emperor’s side as soon as possible.
Gao Yuexing accompanied him partway.
At their parting, Zhao Tongsheng told her that when they had blocked the roads earlier, they had been a step too late. They had already heard reports of a suspicious group leaving the city and heading west. The person responsible for the poisoning would likely remain at large for now. He advised her to let it go—ensuring the safety of the people was already the greatest comfort.
Gao Yuexing understood.
The heavy rain had long since stopped. The canals they had dug were halfway completed, but the poisoning had halted progress. Still, these nearly completed canals had done their best to redirect the water flow.
Now there was no need to guard against flooding anymore; they could focus entirely on resettling the people.
Gao Yuexing gazed at Jiangnan, once a prosperous land, now reduced to devastation. For the people, the destruction of fertile farmland was nothing short of a catastrophe. Even the sound of horses’ hooves seemed much heavier.
Another fortunate matter was that the poison had not harmed the people downstream.
Perhaps it was because the water currents had been too strong and fast at the time, rushing eastward into the sea, blending into wider rivers and diluting the poison to the point where it was no longer harmful.
Within a few days, Gao Yuexing and Yaonu worked together, modifying several prescriptions.
Kong Rangchen’s condition showed no improvement.
Gao Yuexing couldn’t help but feel anxious, but a breakthrough came just in time.
A letter from the capital arrived, delivered to Jiangnan by a relay officer riding swiftly day and night.
It was sent by Kong Shishu, with a wax seal on the envelope bearing the words: To Rangchen personally.
But Kong Rangchen couldn’t personally open it—he was too ill to even get out of bed.
Gao Yuexing placed the letter by his pillow and sat by his side for a while. Her eyes kept drifting toward the letter. She had felt it; it was very thin, likely containing only one or two sheets of paper.
After much hesitation, Gao Yuexing finally acted against her conscience. In front of the unconscious Kong Rangchen, she opened the letter.
Inside was a single sheet of paper, thin as cicada wings. Gao Yuexing looked at it and was momentarily stunned.
What was supposedly a family letter turned out to be a prescription!
Gao Yuexing immediately guessed the purpose of the prescription. She grabbed it and rushed to Yaonu to verify its efficacy.
After carefully examining it, Yaonu said, “It’s very similar to the antidote we developed for this poison, with only slight differences in dosage and a few ingredients. However, this prescription should be the true antidote for this poison.”
Gao Yuexing ordered someone to prepare the herbs according to the prescription, brew the medicine, and feed it to Kong Rangchen.
She then sat alone in silence for a long time.
Kong Shishu had the antidote.
Either he had ordered the poisoning, or he was closely connected to those who did.
He could have cruelly hidden himself perfectly.
But for his son, he exposed himself as the prime suspect.
What the situation was like in the capital now, Gao Yuexing could only guess.
The post-disaster resettlement of the people and the farmlands in Jiangnan would not be resolved overnight. It would take long-term planning. Gao Yuexing couldn’t stay here for years. She wanted to return to the capital as soon as possible and had already made up her mind to depart immediately once Kong Rangchen’s condition improved.
Her plan was orderly and well thought out.
But at such a critical moment, even if she intended to follow her plans, those with ulterior motives in the capital would not allow it.
This was a game of strategy.
Five days later, when Gao Yuexing had packed her belongings and prepared to escort the court officials who had accompanied the southern inspection back to the capital, she unexpectedly encountered Zhao Tongsheng, who had hurriedly returned, covered in dust from his travels.
At the relay station entrance.
Gao Yuexing heard the sound of horse hooves and leaned out of the window to take a look.
At first glance, she didn’t even recognize Zhao Tongsheng.
The usually dignified and imposing Commander Zhao was now disheveled, his hair messy and his body covered in dust mixed with dark red bloodstains. He looked as if he had encountered chaos on the road and fought his way back.
Gao Yuexing froze for a moment, rising warily. She called out, “Commander Zhao, what has happened?”
Zhao Tongsheng clumsily dismounted, halting his hurried steps upon hearing her voice. He looked up and said, “Your Highness, something has happened.”
Gao Yuexing tossed a water pouch toward him. “Take your time and explain.”
Zhao Tongsheng caught the pouch, gripping it tightly without drinking. His expression was dazed as he muttered, “Your Highness… the Emperor has passed away.”
For a moment, Gao Yuexing felt as though the words weren’t real.
She wiped her ears, confirming they were still there.
The voice she had just heard was Zhao Tongsheng, the commander of the imperial guards, personally delivering the message.
Gao Yuexing stumbled backward, collapsing into her chair.
At some point, Zhao Tongsheng had climbed upstairs. His rough voice roared in her ear, “Your Highness!”
The distant, drifting part of her soul was yanked back into her body, accompanied by a sharp buzzing in her ears.
Zhao Tongsheng’s voice remained clear and unbroken, cutting through the buzzing as he continued, “When this subordinate and my men returned to the capital, we found the gates sealed shut. Looking up, we saw Prince Xin already draped in imperial yellow robes, standing atop the city walls. By his side stood Kong Shishu. It was they who killed the Emperor. This subordinate fled back here with a handful of soldiers—not out of cowardice, but to bring you this news. Your Highness, Prince Xiang is fighting at the western frontier. Right now, you are the only one we can rely on!”
Zhao Tongsheng had originally been escorting two to three hundred disaster relief troops, but fewer than a hundred had survived the journey back.
These men stood in the small courtyard of the relay station, gazing up at Gao Yuexing with hopeful eyes.
Gao Yuexing’s hands, resting on the window frame, clenched tighter and tighter until her nails cracked and broke.
The pain snapped her back to full awareness.
Impossible. General Zheng was stationed in the capital.
Gao Yuexing gradually calmed herself and said, “Send word to Prince Xiang at the western frontier.”
Zhao Tongsheng lowered his head and replied, “The western battle is pressing, and this subordinate fears distracting the Prince or shaking the troops’ morale. The capital is already in chaos; the western front cannot afford any disruptions.”
Gao Yuexing retrieved a small flask of rice wine from her packed belongings and poured it over her bleeding fingers, her expression unchanged. “The news will reach the western frontier eventually. Rather than catching him off guard, it’s better to let him prepare mentally. Send a coded message, only for Prince Xiang’s eyes. The capital and the western frontier are not isolated battlegrounds—they are deeply interconnected. Prince Xiang will know how to strategize. As for us, we depart for the capital immediately.”
Outside, a pale-faced figure leaned against the doorframe, standing there silently.
It was Kong Rangchen, who had just begun to recover.
As Zhao Tongsheng turned to leave, he bumped into Kong Rangchen, halting momentarily and letting out a heavy sigh.
Kong Rangchen bent his head, unable to meet Zhao Tongsheng’s gaze.
This was a young man who had stood before a flood to shield the people, destroying himself in the process. Who could bear to blame him?
Gao Yuexing said, “Don’t be afraid. You are you, and your father is your father.”
A coup for power and usurpation.
However, the palace wasn’t as bloodstained as outsiders might imagine.
That day, Prince Xin, who had been confined to his residence for reflection, suddenly changed his demeanor, loudly proclaiming his repentance and requesting an audience with the Emperor.
The Emperor believed him and summoned him to the palace. Yet, half an hour later, mournful cries announcing the Emperor’s death echoed from Qianqing Palace.
According to Prince Xin, the Emperor had succumbed to a heart attack. However, when the imperial physicians examined the body, the Emperor’s dark, purplish lips clearly indicated poisoning.
No one had been prepared for Prince Xin’s treachery—not even the Emperor himself, who had summoned him alone.
Xu Xiude, loyal to the core, committed suicide by ramming his head into a pillar.
Prince Xin donned the imperial robes, ascended the dragon throne, and declared himself Emperor. Yet, strangely, he neither opened the palace gates nor convened the court to hold a coronation ceremony. No matter how the ministers clamored outside, he refused to show himself.
Prince Xiang was leading the western expedition.
The imperial guards were busy escorting disaster relief grain.
General Zheng was too ill to rise from his bed. Even if he could still act, all of the Zheng family’s troops had been entrusted to Li Fuxiang and deployed to the western frontier. His hands were completely tied.
The Jinyiwei, the Emperor’s private army since its founding, followed one rule: they recognized no man, only the imperial seal.
Now, with the imperial seal in Prince Xin’s possession, the Jinyiwei had no choice but to acknowledge him as their master.
The ministers were not necessarily unwilling to accept Prince Xin’s ascension.
What they couldn’t accept was a usurper who had murdered the Emperor.
The palace gates remained tightly shut, as did the city gates.
Ding Wenfu, the deputy commander of the imperial guards, was thrown into the dungeons.
Prince Xin, irritated by the ministers’ shouting and insults outside the palace walls, ordered the Jinyiwei to arrest all officials unwilling to stay quietly at home.
Now, the dungeons were overcrowded, and the prisoners had all become well-acquainted neighbors.
Prince Xin remained in the empty Qianqing Palace. Kong Shishu entered without announcement or knocking, declaring he had a gift for him.
Prince Xin, listless, raised his eyes. His demeanor was increasingly that of a madman, his gaze reflecting a terrifying abnormality.
Kong Shishu seemed satisfied. Smiling faintly, he gestured for his men to bring someone forward.
The person they dragged in was a woman with a graceful figure, her head lowered the entire time.
Even without seeing her face, Prince Xin immediately recognized her. He laughed. “Jiang Qi!”
Jiang Qi trembled as she knelt on the ground.
Prince Xin leapt off the dragon throne, crouched before her, and forcibly grabbed her chin to lift her face. “Don’t be afraid.”
Kong Shishu silently withdrew, unwilling to witness what might happen next.
Jiang Qi trembled and sobbed. “Your Highness… no, Your Majesty. This concubine never intended to harm you. I have my own difficulties. My younger sister’s life is in their hands, and she’s on the verge of death!”