On his way back from court, Ji Changqing bought two boxes of pastries that Madam Qi loved and delivered them to her as soon as he returned home.
He found her gazing anxiously toward the northwest, her face filled with worry.
“Mother, what’s wrong?”
He set down the pastries and asked with concern.
“Your sister-in-law went to Princess Shouyang’s mansion to treat your cousin. She’s been gone for quite a while and hasn’t returned yet.”
Ji Changqing: “…”
That woman had only been here for a few days, and already his mother was fretting over her?
Worrying about her was pointless—better to worry about Princess Shouyang instead.
Princess Shouyang might have been assassinated by her by now.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, Feng Qingsui walked into the courtyard with several maidservants.
Madam Qi breathed a sigh of relief.
She called out, “You’ve returned just in time. Changqing bought some mung bean cakes from Guixiang Lou—freshly baked and still warm.”
Feng Qingsui smiled and sat down beside her.
“How did it go?” Madam Qi unwrapped the oiled paper package. “Did Princess Shouyang give you any trouble?”
Feng Qingsui shook her head. “No. I couldn’t immediately identify the illness, so I told the princess I needed time to think it over and then returned.”
Madam Qi finally relaxed completely and handed her a mung bean cake.
“Their mung bean cakes are the best—the crust is thin and crispy, so flaky it crumbles, and the filling is soft and delicious, sweet but not cloying. You can eat as many as you want without getting tired of them.”
Feng Qingsui took one, took a bite, and narrowed her eyes in delight. “Delicious! Mother truly knows her pastries!”
Madam Qi beamed with joy. “My only hobby is eating pastries! I’ve tried every pastry in the capital’s streets and alleys since I was a girl, whether they were salty, sweet, sour, or spicy…”
Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law chatted happily as they ate, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Completely ignored and not even getting a crumb of cake, Ji Changqing: “…”
In other households, sons forget their mothers once they have a wife.
But in his case, how had it become “once you have a wife, you forget your son”?
Watching his mother, who rarely laughed so heartily, he sighed and returned to his study, summoning the Shadow Guard Yan Chi.
“Keep an eye on Madam Feng’s side,” he ordered solemnly.
Yan Chi responded with a “Yes, sir,” and left to carry out the order.
That night, as he crouched on the wall of Polang Pavilion, guarding the entire courtyard and beginning to doze off, he suddenly caught sight of a plump, dark figure nimbly scaling the wall.
For a moment, he thought he was seeing things.
Realizing it was the plump maidservant from Feng Qingsui’s side, he quickly gave chase.
He watched as the plump maidservant turned down several streets, arrived at a barbecue shop, bought two roasted lamb legs, then went two streets over to buy a jug of wine.
Afterward, she leisurely climbed back over the wall into Polang Pavilion.
She hid in a corner pavilion and began feasting heartily.
Yan Chi: “…”
What a gluttonous maid—no wonder she’s so plump!
The next day, Feng Qingsui gave Wuhua ten taels of silver and instructed her, “Go to Guixiang Lou and buy two boxes of pastries. While you’re there, gather some information.”
She then told her what information to gather.
Wuhua returned with the pastries in less than half an hour.
“Physician Xun from Ping’an Hall comes from a family of doctors with generations of medical practice. His son began practicing medicine half a year ago but was sentenced to exile for prescribing the wrong medicine and causing a patient’s death. He died during the exile.”
“His son left only one descendant—the child we saw yesterday. Physician Xun dotes on this grandson and always takes him along when making house calls.”
She added, “By the way, someone was following me just now.”
Feng Qingsui nodded. “Well done.”
She took the pastries to Ci’an Hall to share with Madam Qi and then said, “Mother, I’d like to go out for a stroll later. Would you like to come along?”
Since returning to the capital, Madam Qi had rarely gone out. Upon hearing the request, she shook her head:
“Mother needs to rest for her afternoon nap, so I won’t be going.”
She then instructed Fu Momo to fetch two hundred taels in silver notes and pressed them into Feng Qingsui’s hand.
“Buy whatever you like. If it’s not enough, have the shopkeeper charge it to Ji Fu’s account and settle it at the end of the month.”
Feng Qingsui did not refuse. After thanking Madam Qi, she took Wuhua and drove the donkey cart she had brought to the capital out of the gate.
The large black donkey pulling the cart was named “Daben,” a name given by Feng Qingsui’s master.
Daben was obedient and clever, understanding certain words.
Not long after leaving Ji Fu, when Wuhua shouted “Stop,” it halted immediately.
Feng Qingsui emerged from the carriage and took over, while Wuhua got down and headed off on another road.
Yan Chi, who had been tailing them, watched as the mistress and servant parted ways: “…”
Scratching his head, he chose to follow Feng Qingsui.
But then he saw Feng Qingsui driving the donkey cart through the bustling market, along the main road, passing through the west city gate, and heading toward the outskirts?!
The further he pursued, the more confused he became. As he darted and maneuvered under the cover of tree canopies, a sudden cold wind swept by, and his mind grew hazy.
With a thud, he fell to the ground, plunged into complete darkness.
When he awoke, Feng Qingsui was long gone.
With a grim expression, he returned to the city to report to Ji Changqing.
“You lost her?”
Ji Changqing glanced at him sideways upon hearing this.
Yan Chi was deeply ashamed: “This subordinate was careless…”
He had thought keeping an eye on Madam Feng, a woman of the inner household, would be easy enough. Who would have thought… she could actually scatter medicine in the wind!
“If there’s a next time,” Ji Changqing tapped the table lightly with his fingers, “return to Black Wind Mountain and have Zhu Ying take your place.”
Yan Chi shuddered: “There will be no next time!”
He had worked hard to defeat Zhu Ying and leave the mountain—how could he be sent back!
Meanwhile, at Ping’an Hall, someone’s emotions were far more shaken than his.
Xun Shan had just finished rolling a batch of medicinal pills, placing them into a bottle, and was about to continue when he suddenly felt the air grow unusually still.
“Chounu?”
He called out to his grandson.
No response.
Panicked, he called several more times but still heard no reply from his grandson, his heart leaping into his throat.
Just as he was about to rush to the front hall to ask the medicine boy, he stepped over the threshold and saw a longevity lock lying on the floor tiles—the very one his grandson usually wore around his neck.
Beneath the lock was a piece of paper.
He bent down to pick up the paper, and two lines of text came into view: “If you want your grandson to live, come to the Western Suburbs mass grave immediately.”
Instantly, it felt as if ice water had been poured over his head, chilling him to the bone.
He immediately hurried toward the stable.
“Someone! Harness the horse!”
As soon as the coachman had the horse ready, he climbed into the cart, grabbed the reins, and drove off.
Then, at the fastest speed, he rushed to the Western Suburbs mass grave.
The sun had already set, and a gloomy wind blew in gusts, rustling the branches. Occasionally, a black crow was startled, letting out a harsh, eerie cry.
The woods were filled with grave mounds—some overgrown with withered grass, others bare, and even freshly dug graves, as if reserved just for him.
Trembling with fear, he was about to call out when a cold voice suddenly came from behind.
“Why did you kill Vice Minister Jiang’s wife?”
He spun around in a hurry, nearly tripping over a dead branch.
Between two pine trees ahead stood a figure wearing a veiled hat, with black gauze draped from head to toe, making it impossible to discern their face.
The voice seemed familiar, but his mind was in turmoil, and he couldn’t place it at the moment.
“What are you talking about?”
He moved his lips, replying hoarsely.
“I don’t know any Vice Minister Jiang’s wife.”
From beneath the veiled hat, the other person extended a hand, palm facing downward, and released a marionette.
“If you don’t recognize it, how did the toy of Madam Jiang’s beloved daughter end up in your grandson’s hands?”