Now that she had committed to that shameless but life-preserving “Imperial Grandson” plan, Lin Yao’s rigorous spirit as a PhD in engineering and science kicked into high gear.
In an era that only had “knockout powder” and “red-crown poison,” as a semi-imprisoned person, she couldn’t get her hands on those banned substances.
To make someone lose consciousness without a trace and mistakenly believe a night of passion had occurred, with her knowledge base, the best solution she could think of was—
Get him blackout drunk!
As long as she got Chu Liyuan drunk enough to temporarily shut down his hippocampus, when he woke up the next morning, wouldn’t she be free to spin whatever story she wanted?
There were only about ten days left until the wedding. Time was tight. The project countdown had begun.
Step one: Raw material extraction.
“Chuntao, help me bring back a few jars of wine. The stronger, the better.”
“Huh? Miss, what do you need so much wine for?” Chuntao looked horrified.
“Premarital anxiety. I need to drown my sorrows!” Lin Yao said nonsense with a completely straight face. “Now go!”
Step two: Purification and concentration.
Most ancient wines were fermented, with an alcohol content of at most ten to twenty percent. To take down an adult male like Chu Liyuan, wouldn’t he need to drink three or four jars at that strength?
Before he even got drunk, he’d go full beast mode—that would be a disaster!
So, the small kitchen of Jingyou Pavilion was transformed into a “biochemistry laboratory.”
Lin Yao found a steaming pot and bamboo tubes, and using simple condensation principles, began distilling.
After two whole days of tinkering and wasting three large jars of fine aged wine, she finally concentrated out half a jar of crystal-clear, high-proof liquor so potent that even one whiff would hit you right in the crown of your head.
Lin Yao dipped her pinky in and put it to her lips.
“Hiss—!”
It was way too strong! Like swallowing a mouthful of fire!
Her face scrunched up entirely as she quickly spat it out: “Can this even work? Chu Liyuan isn’t stupid. Would he actually swallow this?”
Step three: Taste optimization and disguise.
This poison had to taste like sugar water.
“Chuntao! Go to the imperial kitchen and get me some honey, plus fresh kumquats and plum juice! As much as you can!”
Fortunately, the imperial kitchen had all of these on hand.
Thinking of the cocktails she’d enjoyed with her girlfriends at bars in the modern world, Lin Yao began mixing her Great Chu version of a “Long Island Iced Tea.”
The honey neutralized the bitter burn of the alcohol, while the kumquat and plum juice provided rich fruity aroma and a sweet-tart flavor.
After repeated adjustments, a jar of “Soul-Bewildering Wine”—seductive in color, fragrant with fruit, sweet and crisp on the palate, yet with an alcohol content high enough to fell an ox—was officially born!
Step four: Human clinical trial (subject: Lin Yao).
To guarantee absolute success, she had to precisely calibrate the dosage.
How much for a light buzz? How much for blackout? How much for a one-way ticket to the afterlife?
All of this required data.
That night, a red candle was lit in Jingyou Pavilion to track time.
Lin Yao sat at the table with the jar of “Soul-Bewildering Wine” before her and paper and brush at her side.
“Experiment begins.”
She took a deep breath and poured herself the first cup.
Smooth on entry, with a long, sweet finish.
“Delicious!” Lin Yao’s eyes lit up as she wrote neatly on the paper: [One cup: excellent taste, no obvious intoxication, heart rate normal.]
Down went the second cup.
Her cheeks began to warm, and her thoughts became slightly more active.
[Two cups: body temperature rising, mildly tipsy, reason still intact.]
Third cup…
Fourth cup…
As the candle burned down bit by bit, the handwriting on the paper began to devolve into wild scribbles.
The once-neat tally marks ended with a final stroke that ran straight off the paper and onto the table.
Lin Yao felt light-headed. The candle before her multiplied from one to three, then to eight.
Her eyes could barely stay open, but driven by her last shred of scientific instinct, she scrawled one final crooked, wavy line on the paper:
[F-five… five cups… lethal dose… bl-blackout… c-confirmed…]
Thud.
The brush hit the floor.
Lin Yao collapsed face-first onto the table, completely unconscious.
She slept like the dead.
The “Long Island Iced Tea” she’d brewed had an enormous kick, and Lin Yao didn’t wake until noon the next day.
She opened her eyes in agony, her head splitting as if someone were chiseling rocks inside her skull.
“Ugh… I think I’m gonna puke…”
After the miserable process of sobering up, Lin Yao looked at the nearly empty jar of “Soul-Bewildering Wine” and began organizing her experimental data.
Five cups had completely blacked her out. Even if Chu Liyuan had twice her tolerance, that would still be enough to take him down!
So, with less than a week until the wedding, she efficiently brewed a second emergency batch of “Soul-Bewildering Wine,” and additionally prepared a jar of ordinary wine diluted with green plum juice.
With that, her strategic deployment was complete.
In her left hand: the special “blackout Long Island Iced Tea” prepared for Chu Liyuan. In her right hand: the diluted “health plum drink” for herself.
Everything was ready—all that remained was for that gullible “rookie” Chu Liyuan to walk right into her trap!
However, plans were about to meet reality.
Yet ever since the Crown Prince sent that gift that day, Chu Liyuan had vanished into thin air—not only had he stopped coming to pick a fight, but he was nowhere to be seen, not even a shadow.
Lin Yao sat in the courtyard, idly swinging the wine jar in her hand, pondering whether she ought to use some trick to lure him over.
Just then—
A creak.
The tightly shut gate of Jingyou Pavilion, which had remained closed for days, was slowly pushed open.
Lin Yao’s heart leapt with joy. Instinctively, she assumed it was that big golden retriever returning, and she was about to rise and tease him a little—but her movements froze mid-air.
Against the blinding afternoon sunlight, a dazzling figure in imperial yellow stepped across the high threshold.
That face, warm as polished jade, gradually came into focus amid the shifting play of light and shadow.
It was the Crown Prince—Chu Huaian.
Every hair on Lin Yao’s body stood on end in an instant, and her fingers gripping the wine jar tightened unconsciously.
He had come alone!
The heir apparent himself, stepping unaccompanied into the private quarters of his future sister-in-law—this was an act of moral impropriety in Great Chu, enough to warrant a formal censure from the Censorate. It was a flagrant breach of propriety.
Yet Chu Huaian seemed beyond caring.
He stood in the courtyard, his gaze as if trying to pierce through Lin Yao’s current shell to see the soul he had lost eight years ago.
With only a week remaining until the Fourth Prince’s wedding, some words he had kept buried for eight years—if he did not speak them today, he feared he would never have another chance to say them to her alone.
Before he even drew near, Chu Huaian caught the scent of wine wafting through the courtyard. His gaze shifted, landing on the jar cradled in Lin Yao’s arms, and he paused for a brief moment.
Then he smiled.
That smile was too gentle to befit an heir apparent, wrapped in a layer of tenderness even he himself had not realized he was showing.
“A-Yao was most afraid of bitter medicine as a child,” he said softly. “Every time she fell ill, she would cry and throw a tantrum, refusing to drink it… Now she’s learned to drown her sorrows in wine instead.”
Hearing those words, Lin Yao’s rational mind told her to be on guard—this was the Crown Prince, the same Chu Huaian who had tested her with almonds, whose every step was laced with calculation.
But her body refused to obey.
Her heart was racing without warning, her breathing growing shallow and rapid, and something deep in her chest was churning violently—it was not an emotion that belonged to her, yet it burned with such reality that it set her whole being trembling.
This body was yearning for him.
It was A-Yao!
It was the A-Yao who had waited in darkness for eight years, who had called out “Brother Huaian” even in death—the obsession lingering in this body, upon hearing that familiar voice, surged forth like a tide, breaking through every dam of reason.
Lin Yao tried to raise her hand, only to find it trembling.
Then a drop of liquid slid to the corner of her lips, and she instinctively touched it with the tip of her tongue.
It was salty. A tear.
She didn’t even know when she had started crying.
Chu Huaian watched her weep without warning, and his pupils trembled slightly.
He raised his hand, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tear track on her cheek with extreme gentleness and slowness, his movements so careful as if she were something that would shatter at the slightest touch.
“A-Yao, don’t cry.”
His voice had gone hoarse, as if a name had been pressed too long in his throat, leaving even his vocal cords aching.
“Brother Huaian is here. Brother Huaian will protect you.”