By st summer, even with a veil covering her face and saying nothing at all, the Eldest Princess exuded a stench so foul it became impossible to ignore. Since then, she had rarely left her residence.

  Her te husband, though once a minor civil official, was famed across the empire for his paintings of peonies.

  Song Zhishu had gone through tremendous trouble, spending a fortune to borrow his most iconic piece, Nation’s Grace, Heaven’s Fragrance. She then spent a full year recreating it in embroidery, using up countless skeins of thread to complete a version nearly indistinguishable from the original, just waiting for the perfect moment to amaze everyone.

  Remembering this, Song Zhishu felt comforted and finally stopped crying.

  —

  Elsewhere, Ji Ping’an, due to her “frail health,” was spared many social obligations by Old Madam Song, who allowed her to rest a few days before meeting more family members. The old matriarch even sent someone early in the morning to summon Doctor Li from Huichun Hall for a special consultation.

  In the original novel, Old Madam Song didn’t appear much, and Ji Ping’an had always assumed she was just like the rest of the Song family—only caring about the Ji family’s wealth.

  But now, to be shown such unexpected kindness in this unfamiliar, high-stakes world… a strange warmth rose in Ji Ping’an’s chest.

  Before letting Doctor Li in, Ji Ping’an had Dongchun bring over a set of silver needles. She discreetly pricked herself and adjusted her pulse.

  The Ji family did, in fact, run multiple pharmacies, and the original Ji Ping’an had a genuine interest in medicine. At one point, she’d collected dozens of silver needle sets out of pure fascination.

  Before this journey, she’d packed some common remedies and one full acupuncture kit, just in case she fell ill during travel.

  So when Ji Ping’an cimed she knew medicine, neither Dongchun nor Musheng thought it strange.

  Doctor Li took her pulse and immediately frowned, unable to smooth his brow. Then he began shaking his head.

  “Doctor Li,” Ji Ping’an gently withdrew her hand. “This illness isn’t new. I’ve seen many famed physicians.”

  Doctor Li sighed. “I’ve already witnessed Miss Ji’s skill firsthand, so I know you understand your condition clearly. I only ment that someone so young should suffer such a rare ailment. Your health is dangerously weak—your life is at constant risk.”

  Ji Ping’an gave a soft, graceful smile. “Even a physician cannot heal herself. I suppose it’s just my fate.”

  Her pale wrist drooped, a vivid imperial-green jade bangle highlighting the delicate fairness of her skin.

  Doctor Li added, “But Miss Ji need not despair. Heaven never closes all doors. I happen to have a junior apprentice who serves in the Princess’s manor. He’s responsible for treating the Eldest Princess. His skills are exceptional—he may be able to help.”

  “The Princess’s manor?”

  Ji Ping’an straightened a little. “You mean the Eldest Princess?”

  Doctor Li nodded. “Exactly.”

  Until now, Ji Ping’an hadn’t known how to escape the Song family’s grasp—but now, an idea took shape.

  On Song Huaizhang’s male-lead path, countless beautiful women paved the way for him.

  The original Ji Ping’an was one of them. So was the Eldest Princess.

  In the novel, after the loss of her beloved husband, the Eldest Princess fell gravely ill and reeked of a strange stench. She became reclusive, sensitive, and votile. She refused to see anyone except Song Huaizhang. He, ever elegant and unflinching, had no trace of revulsion in his gaze. Calm, noble, like jade carved into human form. His kindness rekindled something in her long-frozen heart.

  But the Princess, knowing she was older and afflicted, repressed her feelings. That is, until much ter, when Song Huaizhang returned from the Western Regions with a legendary, long-lost pill known as Ningxiang Wan. It cured her completely. From that moment on, she was utterly devoted to him, his unwavering protector whenever he was sndered or trapped.

  But what if—Ji Ping’an thought—she could cure the Eldest Princess before Song Huaizhang ever gained her favor?

  Would the Princess become her shield instead?

  Ji Ping’an looked at Doctor Li with quiet determination.

  Still, she was just a merchant’s orphaned daughter. How could she possibly convince the Princess to trust her?

  She had no official credentials, no medical license issued by the authorities. In rural areas, no one cared if a healer was licensed. But this was the capital—everything was strictly monitored.

  Unless… unless she found someone to vouch for her. If she could treat the Princess as an assistant under a registered physician, then build trust… Once the Princess backed her, she could ask for a personal letter of recommendation and take the licensing exam with special status.

  Compared to Doctor Li, Ji Ping’an had one unbeatable edge:

  Knowledge.

  Like with Madam Zhang’s “death,” no one else recognized the condition, but she did. This world had never seen half the illnesses she’d read about in textbooks, schorly journals, or heard described by professors. That was her advantage.

  She had money—yes. But money had become the bait that the Song family was watching like wolves.

  What if she used her medical skills to treat people for free? Build a reputation through charity? Keep only enough for a quiet life and distribute the rest in service of her name?

  The more she thought about it, the more the idea thrilled her.

  Ji Ping’an smiled slyly, her voice ced with challenge. “Doctor Li, I don’t believe there’s anyone in this world whose medical skill surpasses mine. If your junior is truly so brilliant, then why hasn’t the Princess’s condition improved?”

  She wanted to gamble.

  The original text hadn’t specified what exactly the Princess’s illness was, or how it was cured. But even if it was a blur, she believed she could win.

  And if she angered the Princess? At worst, she would die.

  The original owner had no close retives. According to the ws established by the author, if she were to die unmarried, all her assets would be seized by the state. This created an ideal situation for Song Huaizhang to inherit everything without any complications.

  If she were to be sentenced to death by the Eldest Princess, then her wealth would never fall into the Song family’s hands.

  Doctor Li, upon hearing her words, frowned in displeasure. “Miss Ji, I thought you were a humble young woman. I didn’t expect you to be so narrow-minded and arrogant. As the saying goes, ‘There’s always someone better.’ You’d do well not to judge the world from the bottom of a well.”

  Ji Ping’an replied coolly, “If this person you speak of is truly so skilled, then would he dare to compete with me in a test of skill?”

  Doctor Li’s beard bristled. “Very well. A challenge it is.”

  With that, he stormed off in a huff.

  Ji Ping’an thought for a moment, then opened the rge trunk brought with her in the carriage.

  This was only what she’d brought along personally—more goods were still en route by water and had yet to arrive.

  She pulled out a thick stack of silver notes and shoved them into Dongchun’s hands. Not a second ter, she snatched them back.

  No, silver notes wouldn’t work.

  If she failed to cure the Princess and was sentenced to death, her assets would be seized by the court. The officials would inventory everything. Silver notes held too much value, and the banking records at the moneyhouses would tie them directly to her. Even if Dongchun cimed they were a personal gift, no one would believe it.

  If Dongchun tried to exchange the notes, she could be accused of hiding stolen property, and that would only get her killed too.

  But if she left Dongchun nothing, and she died, the poor girl would be left all alone in this world.

  Ji Ping’an dug deeper, pulled out all the loose silver ingots and gold melon seeds she had hidden at the bottom of the trunk, and pressed them into Dongchun’s hands. “Dongchun, this is your dowry from me. Keep it safe.”

  Dongchun beamed, stuffed the money into her pockets, and hid it deep inside her robes like it was her greatest treasure. “Thank you for the reward, Miss. But I’m not getting married. I’m staying with you for life.”

  “You little money grubber.” Ji Ping’an chuckled.

  Dongchun grinned. “Yes, I’m a money grubber. But I’m also your loyal little cotton-padded jacket.”

  Ji Ping’an burst out ughing.

  Sooner or ter, when time allowed, she’d have to convert those silver notes into silver ingots, and then into small change—to set aside more for Dongchun’s future.

  —

  After leaving the inner courtyard, Doctor Li found Song Huaiyu waiting along the main path, hands csped behind his back beneath a blooming peach tree. Though it was still early spring and the blossoms were few, buds were everywhere, and a few leaves had already begun to fall.

  The scattered petals on Song Huaiyu’s thin shoulders revealed he had been waiting quite a while.

  Doctor Li stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “Second Young Master, are you waiting here to ask something of me?”

  Song Huaiyu’s deep gaze shifted slightly. “Doctor Li, I’ll ask you pinly—how grave is Miss Ji’s condition?”

  Doctor Li’s expression turned grim. “Her pulse is faint, and she can’t retain nourishment. Her body is like a house full of leaks—no matter how much you patch, it never fills. In my thirty years of medicine, I’ve never encountered such a pulse. Judging by my limited skills, I’d say the illness is long-term. If she keeps calm and receives careful treatment, she might have three or four years left. But if she suffers a major emotional blow, she might not st even one or two.”

  For a moment, a shadow of sorrow crossed Song Huaiyu’s dark eyes—but it passed in a blink.

  “I heard your medical lineage is prestigious,” he said. “Does anyone in your sect have the ability to treat this illness?”

  “There is one,” Doctor Li replied.

  “Would it be possible to invite them to the Song residence?”

  “Don’t worry,” Doctor Li said, his beard lifting with his rising temper. “This isn’t about face, it’s about pride. Even if he refuses, I’ll drag him here myself. I’m his senior, after all.”

  With that, he swished his goat beard and took his leave.

  Song Huaiyu lifted his gaze to the delicate peach blossoms dancing in the gentle spring breeze, their soft petals bathed in warm sunlight. A range of emotions flickered in his dark eyes, mirroring the vibrant hues of the flowers. “The spring peach blooms bright and early—who could possibly resist such breathtaking beauty?”

  “Yet in the deep of spring, who mourns the falling petals?” came a pyful voice behind him.

  (Transtor Xiaobai: That's poetic as heck)

  Song Zhiyin leaned out from behind the tree, extending a peach branch toward him with a teasing grin. “Second Brother, are you here to pluck a bloom?”

  Song Huaiyu turned to her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Father and Eldest Brother are waiting in the study,” Song Zhiyin said. “They’ve been waiting a long while and asked me to come find you. I saw you speaking with Doctor Li just now, so I didn’t interrupt.”

  “I understand,” he replied.

  —

  Inside the study.

  Minister Song handed a dossier to Song Huaiyu. “Your brother and I have revised this together. Look it over—see if we missed anything.”

  Song Huaiyu took it in hand.

  It was the official report for the Zhang Shi case.

  The post of Investigating Officer was widely understood within the court as a stepping stone—a gilded one at that.

  Song Huaiyu’s two-year term was nearly up. The Kaifeng Prefect would soon recommend him for transfer and promotion to a more prestigious post.

  Major cases were always tried by the Prefect himself, and the glory belonged to him. An Investigating Officer only earned the recognition of diligence.

  But yesterday’s case, while seemingly trivial among commoners, had enough mystique—omens, spirits, superstition—to make it a uniquely memorable entry in Song Huaiyu’s record. It could easily be framed as political merit.

  After reading through the file, Song Huaiyu said, “Father, Brother—the first person to notice the anomaly with the reed mat, to suspect Madam Zhang was still alive, and to use ice water to save her… was Miss Ji. The file omits many details and credits everything to me.”

  “That’s enough,” Minister Song waved his hand. “Just tell me—was it you who exposed Zhang Shi? Was it you who caught the suspect and gathered the witnesses?”