The secret message on the beam was like a stone dropped into the sea; for several days, there was no response from the Eastern Palace. Xiao Jin's side remained quiet, with only occasional news of the imperial physician's visits quietly circulating among the low-level palace staff, like routine procedure.
Ling Zhao was not impatient. He continued his tedious work in Lin De Hall daily, concentrating intently, as if the person who had sneaked back the other night to leave the message was not him. Yet, he could sense that the cold gaze from the Eastern Palace had not vanished; instead, it seemed to have been provoked by something, becoming sharper, carrying the oppressive feel of a predator scrutinizing its prey.
Was it Qin Jin's primary consciousness? Had he seen through the trick on the beam? Or was Xiao Jin himself weighing the pros and cons?
On this day, Steward Qian assigned Ling Zhao to inventory a new batch of rice paper for repairs. The storeroom was located in a more secluded courtyard behind Lin De Hall, rarely visited by others. As he carried a thick stack of rice paper through the connecting corridor, his peripheral vision caught sight of a small figure quickly disappearing into the shadow behind a pillar.
The figure was small, moving with panic—it was Xiao Luzi.
Ling Zhao did not stop, pretending not to notice. But in the instant they passed each other, a cold, small object, tightly wrapped in oiled paper, was swiftly slipped into his wide sleeve pocket. Xiao Luzi didn't even dare to look at him, scurrying away like a startled rabbit.
Ling Zhao's expression remained unchanged. He continued forward with the rice paper until he returned to his corner in the side hall. Confirming he was alone, he used the pretense of tidying books to retrieve the item from his sleeve.
The oiled paper package contained a small pinch of dry, dark plant root fragments, and a tiny, tightly folded note whose edges were blurred with sweat.
Ling Zhao first picked up the plant fragments and inhaled lightly. A faint yet eerily sweet, fishy odor permeated his nostrils. It originated from the same source as the hallucinogenic herb he had sensed in Eunuch Sun's medicine bag, but it seemed... more complex, tinged with a subtle scent of decay.
He unfolded the note. It contained a few lines written hastily and fearfully in charcoal, the handwriting crooked:
"Medicine dregs... Grand Eunuch Sun ordered to bury them secretly... this slave hid a bit... His Highness, after taking the medicine recently... is sometimes unconscious... sometimes mutters... speaks of 'water routes,' 'altar'... his eyes are terrifying... this slave is afraid..."
The handwriting stopped abruptly, clearly indicating Xiao Luzi was overwhelmed by fear when writing this.
Ling Zhao's eyes turned utterly cold.
Medicine dregs! There was a problem indeed! This herb had not only been deliberately given an increased hallucinogenic dosage, but it seemed to have been mixed with other substances, accelerating its decay and making its properties more intense and uncontrollable. This was no longer just control or disguise; it was outright poisoning! The goal was to cause Xiao Jin's mental state to continually deteriorate until complete collapse or insanity!
Xiao Jin's delirious mutterings of "water routes" and "altar" confirmed Ling Zhao's earlier suspicions. The coup plan was related to the underground dark channels (water routes), and the "altar"... Lin De Hall was rumored to have been a site for secret rituals in the previous dynasty. Perhaps there was something else hidden beneath its foundation.
Who was the poisoner? Was it the Emperor, uneasy with his son, seeking to eliminate him quickly? Was it another Prince coveting the throne? Or was it... the high-and-mighty primary consciousness, concluding that this Fragment had spun out of control and preparing to "cleanse" it personally?
Regardless, Xiao Jin's situation was precarious. He had to plot a coup under heavy surveillance while fighting the toxins constantly eroding his sanity. How could he succeed in this state? The Autumn Hunt Ceremony was imminent, and time was running out.
He had to get the antidote, or at least a scheme to suppress the toxins.
Ling Zhao carefully put away the medicine dregs and the note, his mind set. He could no longer wait for Xiao Jin's response. He needed to strike proactively and find the key to breaking this deadlock.
The breakthrough lay in the Imperial Medical Office.
Over the next two days, Ling Zhao utilized the convenience of his work in Lin De Hall to consciously gather information related to the Imperial Medical Office. Among the books he organized, he occasionally found discarded drafts of pulse records or preliminary herb lists from the Office. He carefully sifted through them, searching for any clues related to Xiao Jin's illness or that peculiar medicine.
At the same time, he noticed that every three days, a