Since it was poison, there must be an antidote.
If Liu Yiniang could obtain the poison, she must have channels to acquire the antidote.
Lin Shu’s thoughts raced rapidly.
With Xiao Che having already announced a reward and openly inviting renowned physicians, this was a clear strategy.
Meanwhile, she needed a covert approach.
A hidden thread that could unravel all of Liu Yiniang’s secrets.
Given her frail health, she certainly couldn’t investigate personally.
That left only spending money to get things done.
Money makes the mare go—she refused to believe five thousand taels of silver couldn’t buy the truth.
At this thought, Lin Shu’s mind settled slightly.
She opened her eyes and called toward the door: “Hua Ping.”
“Yes, Miss, I’m here.” Hua Ping immediately pushed the door open, carrying a bowl of steaming congee.
“Miss, please drink this while it’s hot. I had the small kitchen prepare it with your favorite fragrant rice.”
Though the congee smelled delightful, Lin Shu had no appetite.
Her mind was completely occupied with Liu Yiniang and the slow-acting poison—everything seemed potentially contaminated.
“Set it aside for now.” Lin Shu pointed at the table. “Hua Ping, come here. I need to speak with you.”
…
Notices from Jing An Marquis Estate offering generous rewards for physicians covered every street and alley in the capital.
The ten thousand taels of gold bounty was enough to drive anyone mad.
Instantly, the entire capital’s itinerant doctors, resident physicians, and even some scholars who claimed medical knowledge swarmed toward Jing An Marquis Estate.
The political winds at the Prime Minister’s residence shifted subtly in response.
Young Master Xiao’s cessation of the murderer investigation to focus solely on his grandmother’s recovery was widely interpreted as abandonment of Lin Shu, signaling his intention to let the matter fade away.
Qing Feng Courtyard.
Listening to Cui Huan’s report, Lin Wan’er—whose face had grown haggard during her confinement—finally showed her first smile in days.
“So… the Young Master has stopped investigating?”
“Yes, Miss.” Cui Huan gestured animatedly. “It’s all over the city now. They say Young Master Xiao is completely overwhelmed by his grandmother’s illness, with no mind for anything else. I even heard the one from Tingxue Courtyard fainted in his study two days ago! She was carried back in a sedan chair and still hasn’t left her bed!”
“She fainted?” Lin Wan’er’s smile deepened. Stroking her meticulously manicured nails, malicious satisfaction flashed in her eyes. “Her constitution was already drained long ago. She’s lasted surprisingly long.”
“Exactly, Miss.” Cui Huan hurried to flatter. “She’s just a useless pawn. Once Old Madam Xiao passes, she’ll be buried with her!”
Lin Wan’er nodded contentedly, the boulder weighing on her heart finally lifting.
It seemed she had overestimated that fool Lin Shu.
Just some crooked tricks that briefly turned the tables.
Now without evidence and Xiao Che abandoning the investigation, what could she possibly use to fight?
“When will Mother and Father return?”
Cui Huan’s delight was unmistakable. “They’ll return tomorrow morning, Miss.”
“Mother really… staying so many days at the temple to pray for Sister.” Lin Wan’er’s tone held playful complaint, though her fingers tapped triumphantly on the tea table. “And Father always does whatever Mother says, completely unaware of the major events at home.”
Cui Huan immediately caught her meaning and chimed in: “Exactly! Liu Yiniang meant well. Who could have predicted such trouble in the manor? Fortunately, you’re blessed with good fortune, miss. Now that the Young Master isn’t pursuing the matter, just wait until the master and your mother return—we’ll see how those from Tingxue Courtyard dare act so arrogantly then.”
A cold smirk curled at the corner of Lin Wan’er’s lips.
Prayers for blessings?
Her mother had taken her father to Huguo Temple outside the city under the guise of prayers, but in truth, it was to clear the way for her—to give her free rein to thoroughly uproot that thorn in her side, Lin Shu.
With her father away from the manor, even if Lin Shu screamed herself hoarse, no one would stand up for her.
By the time her father returned, everything would be settled. How could a dead daughter compare to a living, attentive, and charming one?
This move by her mother was truly masterful.
“How is that wretch Lin Shu now?” Lin Wan’er picked up her teacup, leisurely blowing on the steam.
“They say she’s too ill to leave her bed. The Young Master even specially sent medicine, but from what I’ve seen, it’s useless. Her face is as pale as a ghost’s.” Cui Huan felt a surge of satisfaction as she spoke.
“Hmph, nothing but crocodile tears,” Lin Wan’er set down her teacup, a flicker of disdain in her eyes.
Xiao Che’s current coldness toward her was merely temporary—he’d been bewitched by Lin Shu’s evil magic.
Once Lin Shu was dead, he’d naturally remember all her tenderness and countless virtues.
Men were all the same.
“Go and pass a message outside,” Lin Wan’er lowered her voice, her eyes gleaming with calculation. “Say that I’m so worried about Grandmother Xiao’s illness that I’ve lost my appetite, spending my days and nights copying scriptures to pray for her recovery.”
“Yes, I’ll go at once.”
Lin Wan’er gazed out the window as if she could already see Lin Shu being dragged out and beaten to death, while she herself made a glorious marriage into the marquis’ household.
The smile on her lips grew increasingly smug.
…
Tingxue Courtyard.
Lin Shu was pinching her nose, looking miserably at the bowl of dark, murky medicinal soup in Hua Ping’s hands.
“Miss, good medicine tastes bitter. You must drink it while it’s hot. The Young Master specifically instructed me to make sure you finish it,” Hua Ping pleaded earnestly.
“He instructed it? Why doesn’t he drink it himself?” Lin Shu felt like she was about to ascend to heaven just from the smell. “Is this even fit for human consumption? It smells like three-day-old foot wash.”
In her previous life, she drank traditional medicine to recover from the toll of 9-9-6 work schedules; in this life, she drank it to prolong a life being drained by slow-acting poison.
She, Lin Shu, was truly living diligently—giving her all until death.
Hua Ping couldn’t help but chuckle at her novel comparison before quickly stifling it. “Miss, please don’t joke.”
Lin Shu sighed, accepted the bowl with the resolve of one facing execution, held her breath, and downed it in one go.
The bitter taste exploded on her tongue, and she felt her entire face scrunch up.
Hua Ping hurriedly offered a piece of preserved fruit.
Chewing on the sweet fruit, the bitterness subsided slightly.
Slumping back on the bed, she felt one step closer to kicking the bucket.
“So, what did you find out?” Lin Shu asked weakly.
Hua Ping’s expression turned serious immediately. She leaned closer to the bed and lowered her voice: “Miss, as you instructed, I asked Aunt Liu, who used to handle purchases in the manor, to use silver to loosen the tongues of a few matchmakers.”
“Before serving the Madam, Liu Yiniang was originally from Jiangnan. Her family suffered from a flood, forcing her to flee all the way to the capital. She didn’t initially enter the Duke’s mansion as a bondservant—she first spent a year performing in an opera troupe called the Brocade Troupe, specializing in Qingyi roles.”
An opera performer?
Lin Shu’s eyebrows lifted slightly—this was certainly new information.