Chapter Thirty-Three: A Night of Shocks

"The Qiqiao Festival is approaching once again this year. I imagine the lanterns and painted boats of this southern riverside town must offer a unique charm." Wen... felt a sudden tightness in her chest. The Qiqiao Festival—her mind was instantly flooded with countless fragments of memory: a girl in a pale green blouse excitedly holding a lantern, following behind her sisters. That was the former Seventh Lady, and beside her were Third Lady, Fifth Lady, Eighth Lady, and... Ninth Lady. The image of Ninth Lady, which had never appeared before, suddenly came into sharp focus—a girl who always liked to cling to her like a little shadow. Strangely, she couldn't recall many things, yet at the mere mention of the Qiqiao Festival by Ji Changge, memories came rushing back unbidden...

"I've never properly thanked the Young Lord for saving my life. I fear I'll never be able to repay him in this lifetime." Wen... slowly opened her eyes. She remembered that night when "Seventh Lady" was standing alone by the boat, gazing at the myriad lanterns on the river. Someone had pushed her, and she plunged headfirst from the high painted barge into the water. The boisterous crowd failed to notice anyone had fallen in. She did not know how to swim; water surged fiercely into her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, burning her throat like fire. The shallow river was not deep—her hands quickly found the muddy bottom and tangled weeds. She even felt fish nibbling at her feet. As her consciousness faded, she suddenly felt an arm wrap around her waist, lifting her upwards. When she finally broke through the water’s surface, she saw clearly who had saved her. That sharply contoured profile—just one glance, and her life was changed forever. For him, she lived; for him, she would die...

Ji Changge watched the desolate expression on Wen...'s face, and guilt surged in his heart. Perhaps he had never truly cared for that sensitive woman. Though the falling flower longs for the flowing water, the water is indifferent—feelings cannot be forced, yet in the end, he had deeply wounded her...

Though she spoke of gratitude, Wen...'s eyes held not the slightest trace of it. Instead, a bitter smile curled her lips. If not for him, perhaps she would have died that Qiqiao night two years ago. The illness that followed could be seen as a balancing of debts—henceforth, neither owed the other. She had not expected to encounter him again after leaving the capital, but she was no longer the Wen Seventh Lady of the past, nor would she ever grieve herself to death for a man. In Ji Nansheng's view, love was but a fleeting feeling—when it came, she did not refuse; when it left, she did not hold on. After every breakup, it took her only a few days to recover. Perhaps, she had always loved herself most. She would forever be the mistress of her own inner world.

Taking a deep breath, Wen... forced herself to stop dwelling on the past. Those were not her memories.

Seeing her regain her usual calm, Ji Changge found himself unable to settle. What kind of transformation had she undergone to become so strong? The stronger she was now, the more hopeless she had once been...

"Shall we depart tomorrow?" Wen... suddenly asked.

"If there’s nothing else, we can leave at dawn."

"Very well, Seventh Lady will take her leave." Wen... offered a slight bow, then turned and walked toward her room. After a dozen steps, she could not help but glance back. There stood the Young Lord, tall and straight by the lakeside, his wide robe fluttering in the wind, exuding an ineffable loneliness.

Late into the night, Wen... remained awake. Alone in an unfamiliar place with no guarantee of safety, she had always lacked a sense of security—since childhood.

Suddenly, shouts erupted outside, as if something serious had happened. Wen... gripped her scalpel, crept to the window, and peered out. She saw Ji Changge draping a cloak over his shoulders, Uncle Quan following behind with a lantern.

Wen... stepped outside as well, wondering if the magistrate Wang’s illness had worsened.

Ji Changge appeared surprised to see her emerge, still dressed as she had been during the day—she clearly hadn’t undressed to sleep. At that moment, a scream came from the main house. The three hurried in that direction.

Halfway there, Wang Fu rushed over.

"Madam Wen, please come quickly! The Young Madam and Young Master Feng are in grave danger!" Wang Fu cried anxiously.

Wen... and Ji Changge were both startled. It seemed the situation was far more serious than they’d imagined.

"What happened?" Ji Changge asked as they hurried along.

"Just now, the nanny discovered Young Master Feng vomiting uncontrollably, his face turning dark. Soon after, he became unresponsive. Then the maid Yuyan found the Young Madam displaying the same symptoms. Please, Divine Doctor Wen, save them!" Wang Fu sobbed between gasps for breath.

It must be poisoning, Wen... thought, frowning. She had guessed wrong; Wang Junfu’s situation was clearly more than a mere amorous affair. Even if Master Wang wished to let it go, it seemed impossible now. She wondered if there was any hope for the unfortunate mother and child.

When they rushed into the west wing, Nanny Yu and the maid Yuyan were nearly beside themselves with terror. The two were responsible for caring for Young Master Feng and Madam He. If anything happened to them, neither would escape punishment.

"Tell exactly what happened. If you lie, the prison of the Supreme Court will not mind two more inmates," Ji Changge said coldly.

Nanny Yu immediately knelt and begged, "Spare me, my lord! I dozed off for a moment. When I awoke, Young Master Feng was already like this. I deserve death, I deserve it!" With that, she began slapping her own face, her cheeks swelling instantly.

"And you?" Ji Changge turned his gaze to the other maid, Yuyan.

"I… I just changed the Young Madam’s wet clothes, and Young Master Feng’s swaddling, then took them to the laundry. I was gone only a moment, and when I returned, found the Young Madam foaming at the mouth and her face dark like Young Master Feng. I… I deserve to die, too!" Yuyan also slapped herself, filling the room with sharp smacks.

While Ji Changge questioned them, Wen... examined Madam He and Young Master Feng. Both had been dead for some time; livor mortis had begun to show, and Young Master Feng’s body was already stiff—a sign that, due to his fragile constitution, rigor mortis could set in as early as ten minutes, much sooner than in adults.

"Is there any hope for them?" Ji Changge asked.

Wen... shook her head blankly. If discovered earlier, perhaps...

"Can you tell the cause of death?"

She pulled back Madam He’s clothing, finding her body covered with small blisters, her eyeballs protruding, lips cracked, and abdomen distended. All signs pointed unmistakably to arsenic poisoning. Young Master Feng showed the same symptoms. Rage welled up inside Wen... She had always despised those who killed frail women and children. Such cases filled her with a fury she could scarcely contain.

"Preliminary diagnosis: arsenic poisoning," Wen... said coldly. In ancient times, arsenic was poorly regulated, making poisonings all too common.

"Take these two into custody for now. I will question them thoroughly," Ji Changge ordered the two constables.