Who Is the Culprit?
For the three days that Luxian lay unconscious at the Hall of Lu Yue, Zhao Qirong hadn’t slept a single night either. He stayed by his wife’s side, tending to him at all times. When Luxian coughed up dark, clotted blood, Zhao Qirong carefully wiped it away. He refused to leave his wife’s side, not even for a moment. No matter what Chun Gong Gong or Yuan Shaoqi said, Zhao Qirong wouldn’t listen.
Even the maids were at a loss. They had already explained that the antidote their young master had prepared was crafted with his own hands under the guidance of the King of Medicine, Wan Yao. It had been rigorously tested for seven days and nights before Luxian trusted them to keep it for emergencies. They were confident it would work. But Zhao Qirong didn’t listen. If even Chun Gong Gong and Yuan Shaoqi couldn’t convince him, what could mere maids do?
That very morning, they overheard Zhao Qirong declare that if Luxian didn’t wake up that day, he would summon the imperial physician. Even Yuan Shaoqi didn’t object—perhaps because the people he had sent to search for the King of Medicine had come back empty-handed.
Luxian was so fortunate to have loyal friends this time. Over the past three days, none of them had taken a moment to rest.
“Water...” Finally, Luxian regained consciousness. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Zhao Qirong sitting vigil at his bedside, not leaving his side for a moment. The sight filled Luxian with warmth, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Luxian...” Zhao Qirong turned toward the sound, his heart leaping when he saw that Luxian had opened his eyes.
“Luxian!” Zhao Qirong exclaimed, his voice filled with joy. Only heaven and earth knew how agonizing the past three days had been for him. His loud exclamation startled everyone in the nearby rooms, prompting them to rush in with a mix of hope and fear.
They hoped to find Luxian awake, but dreaded that something might still be wrong.
“Why are you shouting... Bring me some water,” Luxian rasped in a hoarse voice.
“Yes, yes! Right away!” Zhao Qirong, flustered and overwhelmed, hurried to pour a glass of water for his wife. The demeanor of the imposing Eastern General had gone; instead, only a concerned husband was visible. He was caring for his beloved with all his heart.
“Young Master, how are you feeling?” one of the maids asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
“I’m fine now. You’ve all done very well...” Luxian replied with a faint smile, causing tears to well up in the maids’ eyes. Even in his condition, their young master could still smile at them...
“Luxian... I... I’m sorry,” Zhao Qirong said, his voice heavy with guilt. The weight of knowing he had caused his wife’s suffering was overwhelming.
Both Chun Gong Gong and Yuan Shaoqi understood just how much Zhao Qirong was blaming himself. They knew him better than even his own parents did. They were well aware of how important Luxian was to him.
“The world around me has never been safe. It’s not safe now, and it may never be. If you...” Zhao Qirong began but couldn’t finish the sentence. He had intended to tell Luxian that he could leave if he wanted to. But when the moment came, the words wouldn’t come out. He couldn’t let go of this love—he simply couldn’t.
“It’s not your fault. The ones responsible are the ones who must pay,” Luxian said, comforting his husband. He could guess what Zhao Qirong had been about to say and was relieved he hadn’t said it. Giving up so easily wasn’t in Qi Wang’s nature.
Luxian remembered what Yuan Shaochang had once told him: Zhao Qirong hadn’t initially given up on his shattered limbs. It was only during the pursuit by the assassins, when he became a burden to his subordinates, that the proud Fourth Prince had fallen into despair.
Luxian didn’t want his husband to return to that state, looking as defeated as he had when they first met. That expression didn’t suit him at all—it wasn’t handsome in the slightest.
As for whoever was responsible for this incident, the punishment wouldn’t stop at having their hair shaved off!
“Help me sit up.”
Zhao Qirong carefully supported his wife into a half-reclining position by placing a pillow behind him.
“Young Master... when I checked your pulse, I felt as if something was off,” Qing Hai said hesitantly but finally voiced her concerns.
“Luxian, you also had bleeding... there,” Zhao Qirong added quietly, gesturing toward Luxian’s lower body.
“Hmm.” Dr. Chen immediately furrowed his brows. Judging by his condition, it didn’t seem severe—another two or three days of medication, and he should fully recover.
“The poison I was exposed to is likely a colorless and odorless type commonly sold in the martial world. It’s possible I was poisoned by touch. All this time, whatever I ate or drank was shared with Wangye, and Chun Gong Gong also personally tested for poison. This is my own carelessness. I didn’t expect someone to come up with such a bizarre method. Truly impressive...” Luxian muttered sarcastically about the culprit behind his poisoning. He admitted his own negligence but wondered how far he’d have to go from now on—would he have to wipe down every chair and object before touching it, even more thoroughly than sterilizing with alcohol?
Despite his lighthearted remarks, Dr. Chen reached out to check the pulse on his left wrist with his right hand. In his past life, he had studied Chinese medicine extensively. Since reincarnating into this world, he had exchanged knowledge with numerous elders in the martial world. Thus, pulse diagnosis had nearly become his specialty, even surpassing his proficiency in surgery, which he hadn’t performed for months.
Suddenly, what he felt from the pulse widened his eyes in shock—wider than the size of a goose egg.
This is...
“No... this can’t be... it’s impossible...”
“What’s wrong?” Zhao Qirong asked anxiously, his worry growing as he watched his wife’s expression darken.
“Your Highness, please remain calm...” Chun Gong Gong interjected soothingly.
“Let Luxian confirm it first. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” Yuan Shaoqi said, trying to reassure everyone. But as time passed and Luxian remained silent, the tension in the room only grew heavier.
“Luxian...” Zhao Qirong called his wife’s name with visible unease.
Seeing everyone so on edge, Dr. Chen hesitated even more. He didn’t know whether this would be good news or bad. Finally, he decided not to hide the truth. Locking eyes with Zhao Qirong, he spoke with all the seriousness he could muster.
Zhao Qirong: “...”
Everyone else in the room: “...”
Their faces went blank as if they had just heard the most absurd statement of their lives.
No one spoke for what felt like an eternity. The room was utterly silent, save for the sound of their breathing.
“What... did you just say?” Zhao Qirong finally broke the silence.
Dr. Chen had anticipated their reactions. When he first realized it himself, he hadn’t wanted to believe it either. Discovering that he had been reincarnated into the body of the eldest young master of the Chen family, a Ger whose story was in some undefined corner of ancient history, was shocking enough. Add to that the night he had spent with Zhao Qirong—their first and only intimate encounter—and it was all overwhelming.
Despite his medical ethics and the obligation to care for Zhao Qirong’s recovery, Luxian had ensured that nothing happened that might hinder his husband’s healing. While Qi Wangfei spent every night in Qi Wang’s chambers, nothing "noteworthy" had occurred—until now.
Yet, the reality was undeniable: he was pregnant.
He had been pregnant for over a month.
Zhao Qirong, it seemed, was truly exceptional in many ways.
“I said... I’m pregnant,” Luxian repeated.
“...”
"Everyone, calm down and listen first. I know this sounds unbelievable, but have you ever heard the story of the Imperial Consort Guifei of the Qin Kingdom? Initially, I thought it was just a guess, but after hearing countless strange tales from the martial world, I’m convinced that the Imperial Consort Guifei has some connection to my mother," Luxian said, his tone composed but tinged with hesitation.
"You’ve probably heard about it—Yong Hou’s First Madame was the daughter of the Heavenly Firefly Tribe leader. It’s said that a hundred years ago, a man capable of bearing children was born in their tribe. That man supposedly had a crescent moon-shaped birthmark. I used to think it was just a legend, but after hearing so many strange stories in the martial world, I began to believe it might be possible. That said, I’ve never been sure if I had such a mark. I’ve never seen one on my body. As a child, my face only bore scars. Once healed, there was nothing left—perhaps some medication removed the mark; who knows?" This idea stemmed from the memories of the original Chen Lu, combined with strange tales circulating in the martial world.
"I’m unsure how the Kingdom of Da Qi views such things... whether they would see me as a freak or not..." Luxian finally voiced the concern that had plagued him ever since he realized his current body was that of a Ger.
"Your Highness, why would you say such a thing?" Chun Gong Gong was the first to regain his composure. "I’ve heard of the Imperial Consort Guifei of the Qin Kingdom for a long time, and so have the common people. There are many male couples who wish for children to strengthen their bond, but they simply don’t have the chance. If Your Highness is truly pregnant, it’s a blessing—a most auspicious occasion!" Chun Gong Gong, the most experienced and senior among them, understood exactly what the consort was worried about.
This Chun Gong Gong had long wanted to raise a little prince. Your Highness needn’t worry. If anyone dared to speak ill, he’d cut their tongue himself!
"Y-you... pregnant... a child... my child... our child... I’m going to have a child?!" Zhao Qirong stammered, clearly still in a daze, muttering the words repeatedly. Though shocked, his voice carried pure joy and excitement.
"Congratulations to Your Highness!"
"Congratulations to Your Highness!"
Once everyone recovered from the shock, they hurriedly knelt to formally offer their congratulations to the couple expecting an heir.
Yet, amidst the celebration, Luxian did not appear as joyful as he should have. How could he feel joy when...
"Let’s hold off on celebrating for now," Luxian sighed. "I’m relieved that what I feared didn’t happen. At least his existence is something to be happy about. He won’t be seen as a freak by others. But..."
Before Luxian could finish, the joy on Zhao Qirong’s face began to fade, replaced by a deep frown. He suddenly remembered what had happened to his wife earlier.
"I fell into the water... and was poisoned... This little one... isn’t in great shape right now," Luxian said softly. Despite being a renowned doctor in his past life, this situation left him shaken. He had once been surrounded by women, but now he was the one who had to carry and give birth to a child. The realization was overwhelming, but perhaps it was the instinct of motherhood that made him feel so heartbroken.
"You mean... our child... my child..." Zhao Qirong, already consumed by guilt, felt his remorse deepen. The events of the past few days had nearly cost him both his wife and their child.
Whoever was behind this—he would find them, no matter what!
"The little one’s still here... but it’s very weak. From what you’ve told me about my bleeding, I probably won’t be able to go anywhere for a long while. I’ll need to stay still and avoid anything that might affect the little one... sigh.
I won’t let anything happen to our child. But I don’t think I can return to the manor with you, Rong Rong," Luxian said with a faint smile. Hearing this reassurance from the mother—or, rather, Divine Doctor Xian—finally put everyone at ease.
While everyone was deep in conversation, Qin Muwen and Yuan Shaochang entered, their faces weary from three sleepless days and nights.
“Luxian!” they exclaimed loudly in unison the moment they saw that their friend was awake.
“Keep your voices down. You’ll scare all the guests away,” Luxian scolded lightly, shaking his head.
“How are you feeling?” Qin Muwen asked, his voice filled with concern. He had barely had time to catch up with Luxian after his month-long absence before this incident occurred.
“I’m fine now. How are things back at the manor?” Hearing Divine Doctor Xian himself confirmed his well-being eased their worries, and they quickly found seats to settle into. Visit novelping.com for the full chapter.
“This is precisely what I came to report to His Highness,” Qin Muwen began. “What happened isn’t just petty jealousy among the concubines in the harem.”
It wasn’t uncommon for concubines to harm a primary consort or for consorts to poison the empress. But this case was far more complex. Everyone could see that. If it were merely the work of a jealous concubine, it wouldn’t have been so intricate. And then there was the Sixth Concubine, who, despite her martial skills, had been bold enough to delay the Eastern General himself.
“What do you mean? What have you discovered?” Zhao Qirong asked, his brow furrowing deeply.
“From our investigation at the scene, neither the food nor the tea, nor even the teacups, contained any traces of poison. We can deduce that Primary Consort was poisoned through skin contact. After interrogating everyone present, including the three concubines who had caused trouble earlier, we found that in the seven days prior to the incident, only the Second, Sixth, and Seventh Concubines had any contact with outsiders—whether by sending servants to buy items, sending letters to their families, or visiting temples to pray,” Yuan Shaochang explained.
“And the Eighth Concubine who fell into the water? It’s highly unlikely she just slipped and accidentally pushed me. How could a woman strong enough to shove me into the water fail to maintain her own balance?” Luxian interjected, voicing his suspicions. To him, the Eighth Concubine was as questionable as the Sixth, who had foolishly exposed herself in front of Zhao Qirong.
“During that time, she didn’t leave the manor, but she frequented two places: the Second Concubine’s quarters and the Sixth Concubine’s quarters.
And that leaves three suspects—or they could all be working together. During our search of their quarters, we found two suspicious items. First, a vial of red-crowned crane poison was discovered in the Second Concubine’s quarters. Second, a dried coconut was hidden beneath the Eighth Concubine’s quarters. While the Second Concubine had poison in her possession, the Eighth Concubine had buried the coconut underground, even going so far as to conceal it carefully. Upon investigating the scene, we found a similar coconut floating nearby in the lake.
This confirms that the culprits are the Sixth and Eighth Concubines, while the Second Concubine was likely framed as a scapegoat. To be thorough, we called poison testers from the Ministry of Justice. They concluded that the poison was coated onto the chair Primary Consort sat on, which allowed it to transfer through skin contact. That chair, being the main seat in the pavilion, was reserved solely for His Highness. The whole incident—the orchestrated fight and the deliberate chaos—was intended to force His Highness to take the seat.
While the poison found on the chair was colorless and odorless, it wasn’t the red-crowned crane poison. The Ministry of Justice couldn’t identify it clearly because it was a compound poison, created by mixing multiple toxins. Its origin now remains unknown.
The current conclusion is that the Sixth and Eighth Concubines collaborated to orchestrate this scheme. Both the Third and Seventh Concubines testified that the one who initiated the quarrel was the Sixth Concubine, while the Eighth Concubine’s words incited the Third Concubine into a fit of rage, leading to the quarrel," Yuan Shaochang reported.
“Have they been interrogated yet?” Zhao Qirong asked coldly.
“Not yet. We held back because they are, after all, your concubines,” one of the investigators replied hesitantly.
“I don’t care! They harmed my child and my wife—I won’t spare any of them!” Zhao Qirong roared in fury.
Those people had dared to provoke the dragon in his own manor. Did they think that just because he pretended to be crippled, he was now defenseless? Did they forget that he was still Zhao Qirong, the Eastern General, the only royal prince with control over the military?
“Child...” Qin Muwen and Yuan Shaochang, who had only just arrived, looked confused. What child?
“Um... well...” Luxian, burdened by his condition, sighed as he had to explain the entire situation again to his two friends. If they had arrived just a ke earlier, he could have saved himself the trouble of repeating everything.
“Congratulations to you both,” the two friends said, offering their polite congratulations before returning to the matter at hand.
“Hmm... but I don’t think there’s any need to torture the two culprits. We just need to understand the purpose behind whoever ordered my death,” Luxian suggested calmly.
“What do you mean, Your Highness?” Chun Gong Gong, who had been silent until now, asked. As someone experienced in palace intrigues, he hoped he might offer some insight.
“I mean that the person who wants me dead is an ally of His Highness, Wangye,” Luxian said in a flat tone. His words confused everyone present.
But Zhao Qirong, who had been watching his wife with a guilty expression, understood exactly what Luxian meant.
“Think about it logically. What advantages did marrying me bring you, Your Highness? Let me ask you this, Rong Rong—how did you feel when you first heard about the imperial edict?” Luxian asked, his voice calm yet piercing.
“...” No one replied. They were too busy analyzing Luxian’s words.
“In their eyes, you are a man. If Wangye has a male consort as a primary spouse, it would mean no legitimate heirs could be born from the main consort. Furthermore, you came with a tarnished reputation. Having you by Wangye’s side would only diminish his chances of claiming the throne,” Yuan Shaoqi reasoned, piecing together the logic.
“Exactly. So, if they were truly your enemies, they should be overjoyed—so much so that they’d happily cover the dowry to ensure I married into Qi Wang Manor instead of waiting for the Emperor’s decree. Why would they want me dead?” Luxian asked pointedly.
“But right now, according to public perception, I’m a cripple. Surely no one would invest so much effort into me. Who would bother orchestrating such a scheme to kill someone in broad daylight?” Zhao Qirong countered. The rumors he had spread and the months of feigning illness had convinced most people he no longer had a chance for the throne. To carry out such a bold act required immense power and influence—enough to install concubines into Qi Wang Manor without raising suspicion, including skilled martial artists willing to become concubines to an Eastern General who rarely stayed at the manor.
“But Your Highness, you’re not actually crippled. More importantly, there have been rumors recently that your condition has greatly improved,” Luxian replied.
“Forgive me for saying this, but anyone who hopes for you to become Crown Prince is a suspect. The only way for you to marry a new primary consort is if I were dead. They assume that, as a man, I can’t give you an heir. They think my disfigured appearance makes me unworthy of you. Even if they argued that my noble lineage would strengthen your position, how many soldiers does the Eastern General need in his army before he stops relying on Yong Hou’s support? If one day you recover fully, you still wouldn’t be able to ascend as Crown Prince because of me, your primary consort...”
Luxian spoke with a steady, almost cold tone, showing no anger or sadness, as if he were discussing someone else’s life entirely.
Everyone who listened to his analysis couldn’t help but admit its validity.
But as they thought about it more deeply, they realized that the mastermind’s assumptions were far from reality.
This was the Divine Doctor Xian who had healed Wangye.
This was the Eldest Young Master Chen, whose beauty was like that of an immortal descended to earth.
This was Luxian, brilliant and sharp beyond comparison.
This was Luxian, who was now carrying the heir of Qi Wang.
And this was Luxian—the person Zhao Qirong loved more than anyone else.