Chapter 123: Bamboo Green Snake

Seeing Wen Jing remain silent, Master Liancheng did not waste time. He spoke, "What I wish to ask of the Seventh Young Lady is quite simple. You need only lift a finger to place this object outside Lingyun Hall. Then... I trust that with your intelligence, you know what to do."

Wen Jing looked at the blood-stained sword before her, her heart skipping a beat. This was not a weapon an ordinary man would possess; Liancheng was trying to make her plant false evidence.

Liancheng eased the grip of the dagger slightly. "Have you considered my request, Seventh Young Lady?"

"Forgive me, but Seventh Young Lady is powerless to help. Rather than being discovered in the end, only to be executed and bring shame upon the ancestors of the Wen family, it would be better for you to grant me a quick death now." Having said this, Wen Jing silently closed her eyes.

Liancheng’s gaze tightened. He gritted out through his teeth, "Are you certain I dare not kill you?"

"You have done so much for the Prince; do you truly believe he is unaware?" Wen Jing replied with a faint smile, pressing her lips together.

A flicker of venomous resentment crossed Liancheng’s eyes. He scrutinized Wen Jing, seemingly attempting to discern some clue within her unnervingly calm gaze.

Feeling her skin crawl under the intensity of his peach-blossom eyes, Wen Jing suppressed the urge to slap him. With a dagger at her throat, she could not move, but when it came to patience, she doubted Liancheng could compare. She had once spent over a dozen hours in forty-degree heat, huddled in the company of foul-smelling, decaying corpses.

Liancheng was a man of deep, calculating nature. Wen Jing was betting on his suspicion. In truth, she had no idea if it was Prince Xuan who had sent him, but she guessed that, at the very least, the Prince did not want her dead yet. She still had her uses, namely the examination of Consort Rong’s remains. Had she not feared implicating the Wen family, Wen Jing would have attempted it herself; she suspected that before this, the Prince must have already hired someone to examine the body, only to find either nothing or that the coroner dared not speak.

A moment later, Liancheng withdrew his gaze, his expression shifting. He smiled, "If I said that by helping me with this task, you would no longer have to remain here, would you change your mind?"

Wen Jing felt the cold metal vanish from her neck; Liancheng had withdrawn the dagger and tucked it into his sleeve. It appeared that since hard tactics failed, he was resorting to soft ones.

"This Taoist temple is secluded and suits my temperament well enough. A few more days of stay does not trouble me," Wen Jing said nonchalantly.

Liancheng’s eyes turned cold. He leaned closer to her and sneered, "Since I had the means to bring you to this temple, I can also ensure you stay here for a lifetime. Surely you wouldn't want to be a Taoist nun forever?"

Wen Jing’s expression chilled. So it really was him. She said coldly, "If I wish to leave, no one can stop me. Furthermore, even if I were willing to help you, do you think a single item is enough to condemn someone to death? You greatly underestimate the investigative capabilities of the Ministry of Justice."

Liancheng curled the corner of his mouth, his expression calm. "In some matters, the outcome is not as important as the possibility that the event itself may have occurred. Does the Seventh Young Lady understand?"

So that was Liancheng’s true intention. Wen Jing watched him with increased vigilance. This man was like a green bamboo viper—beautiful in appearance, yet highly venomous. What she found curious was how such a person could follow the seemingly unambitious Prince Xuan, or whether he and the Prince were playing a much larger game, waiting only for the right opportunity...

Footsteps sounded outside the door. It was Qingliu.

Liancheng’s shadow flickered as he darted behind the door. Qingliu pushed the door open, seeing Wen Jing looking at her with a nervous expression. Just as she began to speak, Liancheng covered her mouth from behind. Qingliu felt something roll down her throat.

Liancheng released her and looked at Wen Jing with a smile.

"You... what did you feed me?" Qingliu looked at him with fury. She felt a cool, slippery sensation in her throat. While not unpleasant, the feeling of being forcibly fed something unknown made her feel nauseated. She dry-heaved for a long time, yet nothing came up.

Liancheng swished his folding fan and smiled. "It is merely a small Beauty-Preserving Pill. Does it not feel quite cool? You may vomit once in the middle of the night, but do not worry; it is only to help you purge toxins. There might be a little bit of pain..."

Qingliu cast a suspicious glance at Liancheng, thinking, *Would you really be so kind?*

Liancheng gave Wen Jing a meaningful look and laughed. "Seventh Young Lady, do you not agree with my words?"

Wen Jing’s face turned slightly pale, and she smiled, "Yes, Qingliu, you need not worry."

Qingliu looked at Liancheng with lingering doubt. "Master Lian, is it not improper for you to be in my mistress’s room so late at night?"

Liancheng pursed his lips and placed the box into Wen Jing’s hand. "I only came to deliver a gift to the Seventh Young Lady. As the hour is late, I shall not intrude further. I bid you farewell."

Wen Jing took the box heavily, her face expressionless. "I shall not see you out."

After Liancheng left, Qingliu closed the door and looked at the rectangular box in Wen Jing’s hand with suspicion. "Forgive my forwardness, but for Master Lian to suddenly send such a gift, I fear his intentions are not pure."

"Indeed. Qingliu, sleep with me tonight. I have not been sleeping soundly these past few days; I keep having nightmares," Wen Jing said.

Qingliu nodded. Though she still had doubts, she asked no further questions. If her mistress did not wish to speak, she had her reasons; as a servant, she had no right to pry too deeply.

Placing the box under the bed, Wen Jing looked at Qingliu and asked, "How do you feel now?"

"My stomach feels incredibly cool, as if I had drunk iced sour plum soup. It feels a bit bloated, but nothing else," Qingliu said, rubbing her abdomen.

What kind of poison was this? Wen Jing pondered. If she could identify the poison and concoct an antidote, she would no longer be under Liancheng’s threat. She hated being threatened above all else. More importantly, she did not want to involve the Wen family in this conspiracy and become mere cannon fodder.

Judging by Qingliu’s condition, the poison did not seem immediately lethal; it would not take effect for a while. She had to identify the components and ratios of the poison and brew an antidote before it struck. Fortunately, the mountain was filled with herbs. If she went to gather them at first light tomorrow, there might still be time.

"Mistress?" Qingliu called out.

Wen Jing snapped out of her thoughts. "It’s nothing. Go to sleep early."

Qingliu helped Wen Jing into bed and lay down beside her, fully clothed. Feeling her eyelids grow heavy, she fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.

Listening to the steady breathing beside her, Wen Jing quietly rose and took out the medical text Lin Bai had given her. She searched for any poison that would cause a cool sensation and abdominal bloating, but nothing matched her recollection. With no other options, she had to try.

If she could not find the formula, she would have to do as Liancheng ordered to save Qingliu. But if she did, regardless of whether his plot succeeded, the entire Wen family would be doomed. That damned green viper.

Wen Jing flipped rapidly through the "Collection of One Hundred Herbs," specifically the section on toxins. Common poisons like arsenic (metallic arsenic, historically known as 'xinshi') caused abdominal pain, diarrhea, watery stools, and limb spasms—symptoms Qingliu did not exhibit.

Then there were Datura flowers, Gelsemium (commonly known as 'intestine-breaking grass'), and other common poisonous plants. These were highly toxic, but Qingliu’s symptoms did not match these either.

Wen Jing felt a flicker of discouragement, though this was expected. A schemer like Liancheng, even if not a master poisoner himself, surely had one in his employ. The role of poison in history could never be underestimated. This poison likely contained multiple ingredients. Without being a master of alchemy, it was difficult to identify the components in a short time. In the modern world, a laboratory could reveal the answer instantly, but here in the ancient world, even knowing the components was not enough—one had to know the exact proportions. Get that wrong, and the antidote could become a lethal dose.

At this thought, Wen Jing realized it was virtually impossible to concoct an antidote in such a short time. Yet, she was unwilling to be manipulated by that despicable man.

Wen Jing steadied her mind. She could not overestimate the opponent's ability. No matter how toxic, it was still composed of these herbs. She began to list several poisons, rearranging and combining them, imagining how she would formulate a poison if she were the creator to control the onset time.

"It hurts!" Qingliu suddenly cried out from the bed.

Wen Jing was startled and rushed to her side. Qingliu’s face was ashen, drenched in sweat, her hands clutching her stomach in agony!

"Does it hurt that much?" Wen Jing asked anxiously.

Qingliu nodded, biting her lip so hard she could not speak, as if thousands of needles were piercing her abdomen.

"Mistress... this is poison... isn't it?"

Wen Jing froze. There was no hiding it now. She had hoped to tell Qingliu only after finding the antidote to spare her the worry, but she realized that the sharp-witted Qingliu would never believe such a clumsy lie. She had likely been awake for a while, perhaps merely pretending to sleep.

"Do not worry. I will save you."

Wen Jing took out a small bottle from her belongings. It was a life-saving antidote given to her by Lin Bai, which she had never used because there were only three pills. She would not have brought it out if not for the necessity.

"Take this." She placed the brown pill into Qingliu’s mouth and handed her a bowl of water.

Qingliu took a sip of water and swallowed the pill.

A moment later, Qingliu stopped thrashing about.

Wen Jing checked her pulse and found it much steadier, though still fluctuating. She prayed the antidote would fully neutralize the toxin.

"Mistress... what did that bastard make you do for him?" Qingliu asked suddenly.

"Cause harm."

Wen Jing uttered the two words and returned to the table. She continued to study the poisons, preparing for a secondary plan. If Lin Bai’s antidote failed, she still had to concoct her own.

Looking at Wen Jing’s haggard expression, Qingliu felt a deep sense of despair. Not only could she not help her mistress, but she had also caused her to be implicated. She felt utterly useless.