Chapter 23: The Onset of the Cold Poison

Shen Qianmo thought Meng Yuanheng was merely teasing her, but to her surprise, when they were about to depart the next morning, she saw the carriage from the Prince Xuan's residence waiting at the corner outside the Grand Duke's mansion. Beside the carriage stood the expressionless guard, as well as a man in his thirties, with a thin face and plain features.

When Shen Qianmo appeared, the guard, Changdong, strode forward and bowed to her, speaking with rigid formality, "Princess, my lord requests your presence."

Shen Qianmo was momentarily stunned. What did he just call her? Princess? When had she become the Prince's wife?

Luzhu, standing nearby, glared at Changdong in displeasure. "Hey, what nonsense are you spouting? When did my lady become your Princess? Don’t sully her reputation with your careless words!"

Changdong ignored Luzhu’s reproach and stubbornly addressed Shen Qianmo, "Princess, please."

Clearly, he was a stickler for rules. Shen Qianmo didn’t wish to argue further. She greeted Xie Mingyu and the others, then followed Changdong to the carriage. The thin man also bowed to her silently.

Just then, the carriage curtain lifted. Inside, Meng Yuanheng sat with effortless elegance, his complexion even paler than the night before. Upon seeing Shen Qianmo, he gave her a faint smile. "Mo’er, you’re here."

His smile was crisp and refreshing, like a gentle breeze. Shen Qianmo was momentarily dazzled, forgetting to mind his increasingly familiar use of "Mo’er".

He really did have an extraordinary smile.

"Does Prince Xuan truly wish to travel together?" Shen Qianmo frowned, uncertain.

"Of course," Meng Yuanheng nodded matter-of-factly. "I never go back on my word. If you don’t believe me, why not ride with me?"

Shen Qianmo was speechless, simply replying, "If that’s your wish, Prince Xuan, carry on."

Xie Mingyu, hearing of the Prince’s insistence, looked at Shen Qianmo with interest and teased, "Despite his frail health, Prince Xuan is determined to accompany Mo’er all the way to celebrate Grandfather’s birthday. Such devotion is truly moving."

Shen Qianmo shot him a glare. Even the usually upright Xie Mingyu was now teasing her. As for Prince Xuan, she had no clue what his intentions were. He alternated between aloofness and shamelessness, sincerity and falsehood, always mysterious and deeply calculating. Shen Qianmo found him difficult to read.

Their group traveled lightly, setting out from the Grand Duke’s mansion toward Suzhou. The journey from Shengjing to Suzhou took at least half a month at best, but there was still time before the birthday, so they were in no hurry, leisurely heading south.

Shen Qianmo had been here for over three months, during which she had endured disfigurement, broken engagements, a royal marriage decree, and constant schemes from Madam Cui and her daughter. Her days had not been easy. Now, able to travel south, with spring in full bloom and boundless scenery, her spirits soared.

Meng Yuanheng’s complexion, however, worsened by the day. He stayed inside the carriage during their travel and kept his door shut at inns. Nearly ten days had passed, yet he never dined with them. On rare occasions when he left the carriage, he appeared in a wheelchair, greeted her with indifference, and was then pushed away by the stone-faced Changdong.

Shen Qianmo had brought only Luzhu with her. The girl was chirping with excitement all along the road, her chatter mostly revolving around Prince Xuan.

"Miss, what does Prince Xuan mean by this? First he said to postpone the wedding, now he’s tagging along to Suzhou."

"Miss, I think the Prince is especially gentle with you, but he’s cold to everyone else. Especially the way he looks at Young Master Xie—it’s terrifying."

"Miss, Prince Xuan really is handsome. It’s such a pity he’s disabled; do you think even the heavens are jealous of his beauty?"

"Miss, the guard named Changdong always has a stone face. He’s really annoying."

"Miss, ..."

Luzhu was a veritable chatterbox. Shen Qianmo could only rub her forehead in resignation, wondering whether bringing her along had been a mistake—if only she’d brought Qingluo instead, the journey would have been much quieter!

With Luzhu never far from the topic of Prince Xuan, Shen Qianmo couldn’t help but pay more attention to Meng Yuanheng. She felt his pallor was worsening, and the man named Sir Situ who followed him looked increasingly grave.

Through their conversations, Shen Qianmo learned that the thin man was Situ Gong. He had served the previous Prince Xuan since childhood and was an accomplished physician. Since Meng Yuanheng’s injury, he had stayed by his side to manage his health.

Could it be that Meng Yuanheng’s condition was deteriorating? Shen Qianmo truly couldn’t tell whether his disability was genuine or feigned.

One evening at dusk, their party arrived in Yunzhou City and lodged at the Ruyi Inn.

Though Yunzhou was not as prosperous as Suzhou, it belonged to the Jiangnan region and was fairly developed. Yet since entering the city, Shen Qianmo sensed an atmosphere of unease; people hurried about, and after sunset, the streets emptied rapidly.

Xie Mingyu too sensed something amiss and questioned the innkeeper. The innkeeper glanced at the gentle, scholarly Xie Mingyu and sighed, "Young master, you may not know, but Yunzhou has been restless lately. Over the past month, more than ten scholars have disappeared. You seem scholarly yourself—be careful, and do not leave your room at night."

Such a thing! Both Xie Mingyu and Shen Qianmo were shocked.

"Doesn’t the local government do anything?" Shen Qianmo asked. With such a serious matter, the magistrate surely had to act.

"The authorities are investigating, but after more than a month, the disappearances keep increasing, and the officials have found nothing," the innkeeper replied angrily. "Those officials are all bluster and pomp, but when real trouble arises, they turn into decorations—utterly useless."

After dinner, Shen Qianmo grew worried. Xie Mingyu, refined and otherworldly, had drawn much attention since entering the city; he was an obvious target. She warned him, "Cousin, judging by what the innkeeper said, you must be extra careful tonight."

Xie Mingyu smiled warmly and teased, "Are you worried for me, Mo’er? Be careful lest Prince Xuan hears you. If looks could kill, I’d have been shredded by him all along this journey."

Shen Qianmo rolled her eyes; Xie Mingyu had become increasingly fond of teasing her lately. She glared at him and returned to her room with Luzhu. Though Xie Mingyu lacked physical strength, his courage and wit were impressive; he would be fine.

Back in her room, Shen Qianmo thought of Meng Yuanheng. He had vanished since entering the inn. Perhaps she should warn him about Yunzhou’s troubles? But judging by his guard’s martial skills, and his own apparent strength, he should be safe.

As she pondered, Changdong came looking for her. Ignoring Luzhu’s hostile glare, he stared straight ahead and addressed Shen Qianmo, "Please, Princess, come see my lord."

"How many times have I told you not to call my lady 'Princess'? Don’t you understand plain speech?" Luzhu was nearly beside herself with rage.

"Please, Princess, come see my lord," Changdong repeated.

Shen Qianmo sighed in resignation. "What’s wrong with your lord?"

"His condition is not good. Please, Princess, come see him."

This guard seemed to have limited communication skills, but he would not have come unless it was urgent. Since she had wanted to check on Meng Yuanheng anyway—his worsening pallor had made her uneasy—she instructed Luzhu to stay in the room and followed Changdong to Meng Yuanheng’s quarters.

His room was the Number One Heavenly Suite, the most luxurious in the inn. Spacious and lavishly furnished—it was clear that wealth granted one freedom, Shen Qianmo thought to herself.

Entering the inner chamber, she saw Meng Yuanheng lying with eyes tightly shut, face deathly pale and drenched in sweat. His fists were clenched, his body trembling, teeth grinding audibly. Nearby, Situ Gong was administering acupuncture, but Meng Yuanheng’s violent tremors made the task difficult. Even the calm Situ Gong had sweat beading on his brow. Seeing Changdong and Shen Qianmo enter, he instructed, "Changdong, pry open the prince’s mouth. He’s been clenching his teeth against the pain—watch lest he bite his tongue."

Changdong hurried forward to follow the command, but Meng Yuanheng’s jaws were locked too tightly, and Changdong dared not use excessive force.

Shen Qianmo, though a forensic expert, understood basic medical principles. Meng Yuanheng seemed accustomed to suppressing pain rather than expressing it, which could indeed risk biting his tongue. She stepped forward, gently grasped his clenched hands, and whispered by his ear, "Prince Xuan, Meng Yuanheng, wake up."

She repeated the words many times before Meng Yuanheng gradually relaxed, his tremors subsiding. Changdong seized the moment and successfully pried open his mouth. Shen Qianmo gently opened his fists, revealing palms bloodied by his own fingernails.

Situ Gong took the opportunity to finish the acupuncture swiftly, wiped the sweat from his brow, and thanked Shen Qianmo, "Thank you, Princess, for your help."

Another one calling her that! Shen Qianmo didn’t bother to correct them and asked, "What’s wrong with Prince Xuan?"

Situ Gong sighed softly. "Princess, you may not know, but my lord is afflicted with a cold poison, which has rendered his legs unable to stand. This poison flares up once a month. He is somewhat better now; in previous years it was far worse."

Cold poison? Shen Qianmo was unfamiliar with poisons and asked, "Is there no cure?"

Situ Gong shook his head. "It’s not that it cannot be cured, but the remedy is difficult to prepare. I’ve been developing it for seven years, but I can only suppress the symptoms, not eradicate the poison."

Seven years—he had endured this agony alone for seven years, suffering excruciating pain every month, with no family to comfort him. No wonder he had learned to seal himself off from pain; however bitter his cries, there would be no one to console him.

Looking at Meng Yuanheng’s ashen face and tightly pressed lips, Shen Qianmo felt her heart twist painfully, as though she could barely breathe. Seeing the wounds on his palms, she stood to fetch a bandage, but as she rose, her hand was seized by Meng Yuanheng.

"Don’t go." His voice was hoarse and low, filled with infinite longing. Though his eyes remained shut, consciousness barely returning, he instinctively clung to the hand that brought him comfort, unwilling to let go.