In the afternoon, the deathly silence of the Guogongfu’s rear courtyard was forcibly torn apart.
Footsteps were chaotic, and the maids and servants kept their voices low, yet they couldn’t conceal their excitement at watching the drama unfold.
“Prince Jing is here!”
“His Highness has come personally to see the young lady. How devoted he is!”
Inside the room, Wen Yan leaned against the headboard, her expression indifferent.
Hah, he’s here.
The fixed NPC from the plot has loaded.
When Qiu Chan rushed in, her cheeks were as red as boiled shrimp, and her voice trembled: “Young lady! The prince… the prince has entered!”
Wen Yan cooperated perfectly, coughing as if she were about to cough up her lungs, and weakly extended her hand: “Help me… up.”
The next second, Li Yu stepped over the threshold.
Dressed in brocade robes with a jade belt, he looked the part of a refined gentleman.
It had to be said, this appearance could indeed deceive ninety-nine percent of the young women in the capital. But in Wen Yan’s eyes, he was nothing more than a walking “biological specimen.”
Professional instinct instantly took over her mind, and Wen Yan’s gaze dissected him with surgical precision:
Age twenty-four, gait steady but center of gravity unstable, facial muscles stiff—typical signs of long-term repression or deep hypnosis.
【Core Plot Character: Li Yu (Puppet State)】
There were no dazzling special effects, but in Wen Yan’s mind, this man seemed wrapped in invisible threads, each one stretching into the void.
This wasn’t true love; it was a pre-programmed script.
“Xīwēi, you look a bit better today?”
Li Yu spoke. His voice was gentle, but it sounded as if he were reading from a script, with pauses that felt stiff and rehearsed, down to the punctuation.
“The imperial physician said you need to rest quietly. I have already given orders that no one is to disturb your peace.”
He spoke the most considerate words, yet his gaze drifted over Wen Yan’s head, fixed on the carved patterns of the window lattice, without even a microsecond of eye contact.
Wen Yan weakly lowered her eyes. Was this the legendary “devotion”?
The acting was terrible. Negative review.
She played along with this clumsy performance, her voice faint as a breath: “Thank you… for your concern, Your Highness.”
Just as Li Yu was about to deliver his next line, a servant stumbled in, panicked: “Your Highness! It’s terrible! Bai Guniang is feeling unwell and insists on seeing you!”
In that instant, a miracle occurred.
Li Yu’s dead-fish-like eyes suddenly lit up.
Anxiety, heartache, urgency… emotions that had been missing surged up like a tidal wave. He transformed from an exquisite puppet into an ant on a hot pan.
“Rest well. I will visit another day!”
His words came out so fast they seemed to burn his tongue. Before the sound faded, he had already vanished through the doorway like a gust of wind.
Only the faint scent of incense remained in the room.
Wen Yan handed back the empty bowl, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Qiu Chan’s fingers unconsciously tightening as she took it, her breathing growing slightly heavier.
That look wasn’t simply sympathy or worry but a complex mix of envy, resentment, and ultimately, a hidden sense of satisfaction.
Wen Yan understood.
Hah, jealousy.
Wen Yan almost couldn’t hold back a laugh.
So low-level.
This level of emotional control wouldn’t even survive the first round of psychological interrogation in her world. If all suspects were like this, the crime-solving rate of the investigative team would double.
A moment later, Qiu Chan brought over an exquisite porcelain bowl filled with dark brown medicinal broth.
“Young lady, this is a tonic specially ordered by the prince before he left. He said it would nourish your body.”
Qiu Chan’s tone was sour, clearly provoked by this “treatment befitting the main wife.”
Another tedious display of “social validation.”
Using a bowl of medicine to announce to the world how much he cared for his fiancée, all to cover up the fact that he had just rushed off to meet his lover.
Wen Yan took the bowl, her nostrils twitching slightly.
Beneath the cloying medicinal fragrance lay an extremely faint, grassy, fishy scent that did not belong to ordinary tonic herbs.
[Interesting.]
Her pale fingers traced the rim of the bowl, a “touched” smile curling at the corner of her lips. “His Highness… truly went to great lengths.”
Under Qiu Chan’s watchful gaze, she raised the bowl to her lips.
Her swallowing motion was flawless, her throat moving in perfect coordination.
But if an X-ray were taken at that moment, it would reveal that the base of her tongue was firmly pressed against her palate, forming a perfect physical seal. The medicinal liquid swirled in her mouth, not a single drop escaping, all of it intercepted.
—A mandatory skill from anti-interrogation training: feigned swallowing, passed with full marks.
“The taste is quite good.” Wen Yan even smacked her lips as if savoring it, then handed the empty bowl back.
Qiu Chan took the bowl, her expression complicated, and withdrew.
As soon as the door closed, Wen Yan immediately turned sideways and spat the warm medicinal liquid precisely into the spittoon beneath the bed.
She didn’t rush to wipe her mouth but leaned in to observe.
The black liquid, exposed to air, precipitated some flocculent matter, interspersed with a few extremely fine red threads.
Arsenic as the base, Hong Luocha as the guide.
Wen Yan’s mind raced, retrieving the original host’s memories.
This was no ordinary poison—it was a compound neurotoxin. Its onset would resemble a sudden, fatal illness, leaving no trace to be found.
Wen Yan sneered.
Li Yu’s personal visit wasn’t for the sake of acting—it was to “deliver the goods.”
He wanted to ensure this enhanced version of Yanwang Tie truly entered her stomach. He wasn’t an accomplice; he was the executor.
The night was as dark as ink.
Lying in bed, Wen Yan reviewed the entire chess game.
The puppet prince, the compound poison, Bai Wanyin’s “timely” interception…
The clues were too fragmented now. She needed the most authentic dynamics within this mansion.
“Chun’er.”
She called softly toward the window, her voice low but carrying a chill.
Half an hour later, the window lattice creaked softly, revealing a nervous little face.
“Miss, your orders.”
“Go keep watch at the tea stall in the back alley of the prince’s mansion. I need to know how many cups of wine Prince Jing drank tonight, how many words he spoke, and whom he met.” Wen Yan’s tone was calm but carried an undeniable pressure. “Don’t get close. Just listen and observe.”
“Yes.” Chun’er melted into the night.
The night was exceptionally long.
Wen Yan was like a patient hunter, polishing her rifle barrel in the darkness.
It wasn’t until the first light of dawn tinged the horizon that Chun’er returned, covered in dew.
Her eyes held fear, but even more, the trembling excitement of having uncovered a shocking secret.
“Miss! I heard it!” she whispered, her teeth chattering.
“Calm down. Speak.”
“Prince Jing drank all night at Bai Guniang’s place! His personal guard got drunk and boasted at the tea stall, saying His Highness was overjoyed, rambling nonsense to him…”
Chun’er took a deep breath, imitating the guard’s tone:
“His Highness said… ‘Just five more days! In just five more days, everything will be settled! Then I can marry Wanyin with great fanfare and make up for everything I’ve owed her!'”
Five days.
The number pierced Wen Yan’s calculations like a red-hot steel needle.
It matched, to the second, the time she had calculated for the poison to take effect.
So, this was no simple murder.
This was a premeditated, precise… “asset liquidation.”
And she, Wen Yan, was the “non-performing asset” about to be cleared out.
Her fiancé was counting down on his fingers, gleefully anticipating her demise.
Wen Yan slowly raised her head, gazing at the bleak morning light outside the window, a cold curve gradually forming at the corner of her lips.
No anger, no fear.
Her eyes were as cold as if she were looking at a corpse whose death report had long been written.
Since you want to play the countdown game.
Fine.
Let’s see who ends up lying down… five days from now.