Chapter Eighty-Five: Poisoned by Gu

That day, the heavens were unkind, as snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, blanketing the courier’s inn with a sheet of white. The window in the room was open, and before it sat a chessboard and a pot of tea. He sat there, gazing out at the boundless snow. His long, dark hair fell freely, trailing across the carpet and intertwining with the intricate folds of his robes.

Zuo Qiu Liye, having such leisure to enjoy the falling snow, naturally already knew what had transpired in the king’s palace of Ji. It had been his doing. Though Ji Wu Qing had yet to act, he knew the man’s mind must now be in utter turmoil.

“Sometimes, you are truly ruthless. Clearly, the Blood Queen is someone you care for, yet you still torment her so mercilessly,” Gong Shen Linger leaned against the wall, watching him and then glancing at the swirling snow beyond the window.

This, after all, was the Zuo Qiu Liye she knew—the sovereign of Wu.

“Torment her? I am merely tempering her. Besides, I wish to see whether, in Ji Wu Qing’s heart, her life or his own pride matters more.” He toyed with a black chess piece. “Do people not say they are deeply in love? That Ji Wu Qing dotes upon his queen above all?”

It seemed this was his true intent—to lay bare the so-called love of emperors.

“Do not forget your original purpose, Your Majesty, for the sake of your own amusement,” Gong Shen Linger could not help but remind him.

“Hmph. Do you not also wish to see the outcome?” Zuo Qiu Liye turned to her, eyes of unmatched brilliance revealing his understanding.

Gong Shen Linger turned away, watching the relentless fall of snow. “The queen is now afflicted by the Gu poison. If it is not dispelled soon, her life may not be in danger, but her body will be ruined completely. Surely that is not the result Your Majesty wishes to see.”

Wu had long been searching for the blind woman. Now that she was found, it was of vital importance to the country. As the young master of Wu, Gong Shen Linger was responsible for overseeing the ruler’s actions, to fulfill her duties.

“Naturally. It depends on Ji Wu Qing’s choice now.” Whether he would surrender the girl to be taken to Wu for the cure, or leave her in the palace to be tormented by the poison until she was unrecognizable.

Gong Shen Linger strolled slowly along the corridor, pondering her conversation with Zuo Qiu Liye. Something was amiss, but she could not quite place what it was. She had the persistent feeling that things were not as simple as they seemed.

“Young Mistress,” as she approached, Fei Yi and Qing Shu came forward to greet her.

“Have you managed to gather any information about the state of the Ji palace? How fares the blind queen now?”

The blood snow that had afflicted the queen was her own refined Gu poison, or more accurately, a kind of Gu insect. The creature was quite intelligent, awakening when she played its summoning tune and then stirring chaos within Xue Xue’s body.

On that night she had infiltrated the palace, her real purpose concealed, she had directed Qing Shu and Fei Yi to hide the insect in the garden. Now, it was performing its dreadful work within the blind queen.

“To answer, Young Mistress, it was not hard to slip into the palace, but Anxue Palace is tightly guarded; it will be difficult to gather information,” Qing Shu replied earnestly.

“If you permit, I could disguise myself and pay a visit to Anxue Palace. I will be sure to uncover the truth for you,” Fei Yi said, her face alight, as if she had a clever plan.

The Ji Kingdom’s royal palace.

Snow floated down from the sky, thick as goose down. The flakes settled on her face, cold and sharp.

She stood in the corridor, leaning slightly forward. The chill seemed to soothe the pain and fever burning within her, though her clothes were soaked, her cheeks dampened by the falling snow.

Weakly, she rested against a stone pillar, letting the wind and snow lash her body.

She felt something was wrong—her body was limp, drained of all strength, and the stabbing pain in her chest was like a worm gnawing at her heart. Her limbs were numb with cold, yet inside she felt unbearably hot and stifled.

She must have been poisoned. Though she could not say by what, it was certainly not the simple cold Ji Wu Qing had tried to reassure her with.

As she pondered this, a surge of blood rose from her heart, bringing a metallic taste to her mouth. Scarlet blood trickled uncontrollably from the corner of her lips, staining her skin with dark red blossoms—strangely beautiful and ominous.

Clutching her chest, she tasted nothing but blood. Her eyes grew moist, and something warm slid down her cheeks. Was it tears?

“Xue’er…” Someone was calling her.

Before she could react, a pair of arms gently gathered her up, stroking her hair with tender concern.

Of course, it was Ji Wu Qing. Since her illness began, even her reactions had grown sluggish.

“Why are you standing here? If you feel too hot, you need only have someone open the windows of your chamber. Look at you—your clothes are soaked,” Ji Wu Qing gently scolded her, wiping the blood from her lips, then carefully dabbing away the traces at the corner of her eyes.

Xue Xue gazed at him with empty eyes, the red irises swirling with an eerie light.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” she murmured, her voice barely audible and weak.

She knew her health was failing. She had never felt this powerless before—not even when Ji’s iron cavalry trampled the remnants of Yu.

“When you’re ill, you must take care of yourself,” he said, his large hand quietly moving to her neck. With a gentle press to a certain point, she slumped completely into his arms, silent and still.

“If the pain is unbearable, it’s better to pass these days in a hazy dream.”

The next time she was conscious was three days later. She opened her eyes as usual, but found herself as helpless as ever. It felt as though silk had been laid over her eyes, damp and strange.

She tried to reach up, but a warm hand stopped her.

Ji Wu Qing lay on his side by the bed, his handsome face still striking, though now touched by weariness. He watched her in silence.

“Your Majesty... Ji Wu Qing?” Xue Xue’s voice was hoarse, thin as the cry of a solitary bird. Her throat ached with dryness.

Ji Wu Qing slipped from the bed, poured a cup of water, and gently supported her waist, lifting her so she could drink. When she finished, she panted weakly, as if even the act of drinking had drained all her strength. Even breathing seemed to pain her heart.

Tears, uncontrollable, slid down her cheeks and soaked into her hair and pillow.

Ji Wu Qing wiped the red marks from her face with a handkerchief, his touch gentle. “Xue’er, do you feel any better?”

“Zi Qing, what’s wrong with me…” she asked feebly. Her body felt limp, powerless, and deeply uncomfortable.

“It’s nothing. You will recover. I will make Zuo Qiu Liye pay for this a hundredfold,” Ji Wu Qing replied, his fingers brushing gently over the black silk covering her eyes, his touch infinitely tender.

So it was indeed Zuo Qiu Liye’s doing.

She was too weak to ask further.

Afterward, Ji Wu Qing fed her porridge and medicine himself, then nestled beside her, soothing her softly to sleep.

Xue Xue felt his care and gentleness, and obediently drifted off again.

Ji Wu Qing gazed quietly at her sleeping face. Her breaths were faint, her body barely rising and falling, yet at the corners of her eyes, blood-red tears slipped down, tracing strange crimson lines.

He reached out, tenderly wiping them away.

Xue Xue slept restlessly. In her dreams, she vaguely felt a small hand sliding over her face, playfully poking her cheeks, gently pinching, and then, as if not content, drawing with its fingers upon her skin.

“Xiao Xi’er…” she called helplessly.

The little girl instantly stopped, looking like a child caught in mischief. “Mother, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be angry,” she pleaded, clutching the corner of the quilt, her expression so pitiful it could melt a heart.

“Oh, but I am angry,” Xue Xue teased gently, her voice regaining some strength, her words clearer now.

“Don’t be angry, Mother.” Xiao Xi’er carefully climbed into the bed, pillowing her head on Xue Xue’s stomach, pleading, “You’re unwell, you mustn’t be angry. I waited until the old man left before sneaking in, so please don’t be mad. Let me help you sleep, I promise I’m better at it than the old man!”

She curled up, her head perfectly still on Xue Xue’s stomach, vowing solemnly.

“All right, I’m not angry anymore.” Hearing the little one’s nonsense, Xue Xue sighed. “What time is it now? Are you home from your lessons already?”

“Well…” Xiao Xi’er hesitated, her little mind racing for an answer. “It’s snowing today, so school let out early, Mother.”

“Did you sneak out on your own?”

“Mother, Mother!” Sensing her mother’s displeasure, Xiao Xi’er quickly seized the initiative. “When I heard you were ill, how could I think about lessons? I ran back right away to see you, and only then could I be at ease.”

She wouldn’t confess that the old man had kept her away and forbidden her to visit, so she’d waited for her chance and sneaked in as soon as he left.

“Is that the truth?” Xue Xue was amused. She wondered whom her daughter took after, to lie so freely without a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course, I never lie!” Xiao Xi’er declared, rubbing her face against her mother through the blanket, begging for affection.

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