Doctors were brought in one after another, and the guards around the central command tent grew ever stricter.
On the third day of Li Liang’s coma, Chen Qiang successfully contacted many of Chen Lietu’s old followers, rotating them into duty at the central tent. He also went west to reach Chen Li. With the command token in hand, Chen Li and his five men were treated by General Zhou as if Chen Lietu himself were present, obeyed in all matters, and soon took control of more than half the troops.
When Chen Qiang relayed Chen Danzhu’s words, Chen Li and the others nearly collapsed—not from fear of danger, but from sheer shock. Li Liang was Chen Lietu’s son-in-law. How could he betray Prince Wu?
Chen Qiang had no answer. He could only insist that Chen Lietu must have already uncovered the truth; otherwise, how could young Miss Chen dare to poison Li Liang?
“You hold the command token now. Do not fail the old master’s trust.”
Chen Li and his men knelt, swearing toward the capital. Chen Qiang did not linger. General Zhou himself came to see him off, eyes red with guilt over Chen Danyang’s death. “When the war ends, I will personally go to the old master to accept punishment.”
Chen Qiang replied, “Since the old master sent Young Master Danyang to the battlefield, he was prepared for white-haired parents to bury black-haired sons. This is not your fault, General Zhou.”
General Zhou gripped his shoulder, teeth clenched, muttering, “That dog Inspector Zhang—I will never forgive him.”
Inspector Zhang was the father of Beauty Zhang (a concubine rank). Sent by imperial decree to oversee the army, he strutted arrogantly, and it was his actions that led to Chen Danyang’s death. Afterward, he fled back to the capital.
Chen Qiang saluted General Zhou, mounted, and rode off. Looking back, he saw Chen Li and his men surrounded by General Zhou’s troops, banners snapping proudly in the wind. He sighed—may Li Liang be the only traitor.
What sustained them now was the belief that Chen Lietu had foreseen all this and already laid plans. They were not merely ten men and Second Miss facing the storm alone.
At dawn, Chen Qiang returned to the Tangyi camp. As before, heavy guards stood at the gates. They parted for him as they had before, but his heart pounded. Something felt wrong. The camp ahead loomed like a tiger’s gaping maw. Yet knowing Chen Danzhu sat within, he spurred his horse forward without hesitation— Suddenly, an iron net sprang from the ground, ensnaring horse and rider. The stallion screamed, Chen Qiang shouted, drawing his blade, but the net tightened, binding man and beast like fish hauled from the river.
“Second Miss!” Chen Qiang roared.
Inside the command tent, the flap lifted. “Doctor has arrived,” the guards announced.
Chen Danzhu sat at her desk, combing her hair. She claimed illness, and Li Liang’s maids and servants had all been locked away. She tended to her own daily needs. She had cared for herself for ten years—there was no awkwardness in it.
While scanning military reports spread across the desk, she deftly twisted her hair. At the announcement, she glanced up. A man in his forties stood at the door with a medicine chest.
Another doctor, dragged in from somewhere. But it made no difference. This poison had no cure. Four days had passed—no immortal could save Li Liang now.
“Please, come in,” Chen Danzhu said, rising with her half-done hair to lead the doctor behind the screen to the bed.
The doctor circled Li Liang once, not examining him as carefully as the others had.
“Doctor,” Chen Danzhu asked with a choked voice, “how is my brother-in-law? Is there any way?”
The doctor shook his head. “Too late.”
Chen Danzhu turned sharply, shouting at the guards, anger in her voice. “Where is Li Bao? Can he not find a doctor who is of use?”
The guards shifted uneasily. After so many doctors, Li Liang had not improved. It was no wonder Second Miss lost her temper.
But the doctor showed no embarrassment. He looked at Chen Danzhu and said, “Second Miss, let me examine you instead.”
“What nonsense!” she snapped. “What would you examine me for?”
The doctor smiled. “The poison in Second Miss can still be cured.”
Chen Danzhu’s heart lurched. She was not truly panicked—she had expected this moment. And now that her secret was exposed, her taut nerves strangely eased.
“What did you say?” she cried, feigning shock and fury. “I’ve been poisoned too? Someone poisoned me as well?”
The doctor, calm and unhurried, invited Chen Danzhu to sit at the desk. His gaze swept over the military reports spread across it. “Second Miss truly is the Grand Tutor’s daughter. You can even read military dispatches. With the General bedridden these past days, it must be you making the decisions. The army has shifted quite a bit.”
In this tent, he seemed almost the master. Chen Danzhu glanced around—the guards who had been inside had quietly withdrawn, summoned away by those outside. Shadows moved beyond the canvas, dispersing but not storming in.
She dropped her girlish pretense of anger. “Someone has to take charge. I am the most suitable.”
The doctor smiled faintly, let the matter rest, and took her pulse.
Chen Danzhu extended her wrist openly, sliding back three golden bangles to reveal pale skin. He pressed his fingers, studied the pulse for a moment, then sighed. “Second Miss, you are ruthless indeed. Even if you wished to kill, you needn’t sacrifice yourself. These past days, the medicines you’ve used have filled the tent with their scent. You are skilled at poisoning, but antidotes… less so. The remedies you’ve taken have barely worked.”
He picked up a brush and wrote several prescriptions directly on the military report. “Take these herbs. They will clear the remaining poison. Otherwise, though youth lets you endure now, in a few years, you will cough blood daily.”
Chen Danzhu leaned forward, glanced at the list, and nodded. “Very well, I’ll remember. Thank you, Doctor. I’ll see you rewarded.”
The doctor studied her—this delicate, charming girl who seemed to hide a monster beneath her skin. How could she kill, be discovered, and remain so unafraid? Of course, he had seen young people do terrifying things before. But this time, it was a girl.
“Second Miss,” he asked, pulling his thoughts back, “how much do you know of General Li? Was this truly Grand Tutor Chen’s will?”
Chen Danzhu knew much—too much. She knew all that would happen to Li Liang in the future. And none of it would happen again.
She did not answer. Instead, she asked, “You are a man of the court, aren’t you?”
Anger flared in her eyes. She remembered Yang Jing’s words from her past life: Li Liang killed Chen Danyang to prove his loyalty to the emperor. That meant the court’s envoys were already at his side. Was this envoy the one? Had her brother been murdered to show him? Her teeth clenched. Whatever it took, she would kill him.
The doctor saw the murderous light in her gaze. For a moment, he felt fear—then laughed at himself. Frightened by a child? Still, his mood soured. “I came to tell you: do not think killing Li Liang solves the problem.” He packed away his tools and stood. “Without Li Liang, there are countless others to replace him. But you are not one of them. If someone wanted Li Liang dead, then your death alongside him would be natural. Do not rely on those ten men you brought.”
She had succeeded only by surprise and by her identity. If half the camp truly belonged to Li Liang’s men, with the court’s agents among them, ten loyal guards—even with the command token—could not prevail.
Chen Danzhu sneered. “Of course, it is not only us ten.”
The man assumed as much. Surely Grand Tutor Chen had ordered her here.
“Second Miss means there are armies behind you?” He waved dismissively. “Too late.” He looked at her with pity. “These medicines I will still send. Even in death, one should have a sound body.”
He was not threatening her—only stating a fact. Chen Danzhu felt a chill. Even as the Grand Tutor’s daughter, in this chaotic camp, against the court’s power, she was fragile, easily crushed. Just like her brother. Dead was dead. So this time—had she only killed Li Liang, only to die herself?
Her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. “Wait,” she called. “You are a man of the court?”
The doctor turned back. “Yes. I am.” He expected her to curse, to rage. But Chen Danzhu did not.
“I want to see the Iron-Faced (Tiemian) General,” she said. “I have words for him.”