When the door was knocked on, if not for Zhou Liu-lang standing nearby, Jin Ge’er wouldn’t have even recognized Master Zhou.
For one, he rarely visited, and Jin Ge’er had never been to the Zhou household. Besides, this old man had a respectful and mild demeanor.
“Would Lady Cheng be available to see me?” he asked.
As Master Zhou said this, he lifted his head and looked through the half-open door into the courtyard, where a lady stood watching from beneath the veranda.
A fine mist of rain hung in the air, making her figure appear almost dreamlike.
A maid pushed a bowl of tea toward him.
“No, no need,” Master Zhou said, somewhat startled.
The maid couldn’t help but chuckle.
“It’s just a bowl of tea. We can afford that much,” she said.
Master Zhou coughed awkwardly.
“This time, I really must thank you, Jiao Jiao, for your trouble,” he said after a moment’s hesitation, getting straight to the point.
Cheng Jiao-niang gave a slight nod in return.
“It must have startled you,” she replied.
That truly startled Master Zhou. He nearly spilled his tea and looked at the girl before him as if he’d seen a ghost.
A bow? A thank-you? An apology?
What was she up to?
He was sure he hadn’t said or done anything wrong since stepping in.
Could this girl really be so well-mannered and sensible?
“Jiao Jiao, you don’t need to trouble yourself with the rest,” he said hurriedly. “If that Liu fellow has leverage on me, I’ll find his as well. I’ll make sure he suffers the consequences!”
“What kind of temperament does His Majesty have?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Master Zhou was taken aback for a moment, then quickly understood. His expression turned somewhat awkward and helpless.
“His Majesty is kind and tolerant. Now that that fellow has fallen ill with some wind ailment, he’ll surely feel pity for him—especially since that old fox always pretends to be a good man,” he muttered. If he were to suddenly step out now, crying injustice and demanding punishment, the emperor might actually grow annoyed with him instead.
“So he just gets away with it?”
“Let things take their course,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
These words, in ordinary conversation, might have sounded like resignation. But coming from this girl’s lips, they sent a chill down Master Zhou’s spine. He couldn’t help but glance at Cheng Jiao-niang.
This “fool” from Jiang–zhou…
She was as calm as ever. Her posture dignified, more composed than even the daughters in his own family who had been trained by renowned tutors.
Her features… more and more resembled his sister’s.
No, not quite the same. Her face had a few sharper angles—likely inherited from the Cheng family’s bloodline.
Then… where did this terrifyingly calculating mind of hers come from?
He hadn’t slept a wink last night, turning things over and over in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more alarmed and unsettled he became.
He had lived many years—not some naïve, inexperienced youth. He’d seen his fair share of ruthless and vicious people. But someone like this—someone who was not only merciless and sharp-witted, but could act without leaving a trace, kill without shedding blood, and steal a life while speaking with a smile—that, he had truly never encountered before.
And she was just a young girl. A teenage girl.
How did she do it?
Could simply admitting defeat, flattering someone, and playing nice really cause a person to fall ill with wind stroke? If that were the case, then he wouldn’t have to do anything else—he could just go around all day sucking up to people he didn’t like.
This girl knew medicine—could she have poisoned him?
But the imperial doctor had already given his diagnosis: Secretariat Editor Liu’s illness was caused by excitement overwhelming his system, resulting in stagnant blood flow, phlegm clouding his mind, and symptoms of wind stroke.
What kind of poison doesn’t kill but causes wind stroke instead? Impossible.
Then again, this girl was capable of concocting miracle remedies that could raise the dead. With her, even the impossible might just be possible.
At this thought, Master Zhou’s gaze fell upon the tea bowl in front of him. He couldn’t help but lean back slightly.
Invisible. Untraceable. Anytime, anywhere…
“Jiao Jiao, don’t worry. Leave the rest to me—you don’t need to trouble yourself any further,” he leaned forward anxiously and said. “Of course, if there’s anything I didn’t handle properly, just say the word. In any case, as a family, we’ll stand united and never let anyone bully us. And as for those who try to scheme against us—we won’t go easy on them.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled slightly and bowed her head in return.
“Many thanks, Uncle, for your efforts,” she said.
“No, no, don’t say that,” Master Zhou quickly waved his hand. “It’s been you who’s been bearing the burden all along.”
A maid sitting by the door of the hall couldn’t help but lower her head and stifle a laugh.
Clearly, Master Zhou had been thoroughly frightened.
“Oh, and Jiao Jiao—about the Cheng family insisting on arranging a marriage for you—I’ve been pushing back against it. But I had to drop everything and rush back as soon as I heard the news from the capital.” Remembering something else, Master Zhou firmly waved his hand and said, “But don’t worry about that either. As long as I’m here, they won’t get their way.”
“That doesn’t really matter to me,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied calmly.
“Of course. Everything will be done according to your wishes—whatever you say, that’s what we’ll do,” Master Zhou immediately echoed.
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed once more.
“No need for so many formalities, no need!” Master Zhou said hurriedly. He scrambled to his feet, but halfway up he seemed to remember something, and knelt back down again.
“Jiao Jiao, is there anything else you’d like to instruct me on?”
“No, nothing at all,” Cheng Jiao-niang said with another bow, rising to her feet.
Only then did Master Zhou finally stand up as well.
“Please, don’t bother seeing me out,” he said as he started walking toward the door. Halfway there, he turned back again. “Jiao Jiao, if you ever want to come home, just do so. Everything is up to you—don’t stand on ceremony.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded with a smile.
Only then did Master Zhou manage a sheepish grin and turn to hurry off. Perhaps because it was his first time visiting, he wasn’t familiar with the place—and nearly tripped over the threshold on his way out.
The maid struggled not to laugh, her face turning red from holding it in.
Cheng Jiao-niang walked with her maid to the gate, watching as Master Zhou boarded his carriage and rode away.
“Sixth Young Master,” the maid’s gaze shifted to the side.
Zhou Liu-lang stood there holding a riding whip, wearing only a bamboo hat. His clothes were already dampened by the fine misting rain—clearly, he had been standing there for quite some time.
“Sixth Young Master, why didn’t you come inside?” the maid asked with a smile. “Were you afraid of your father?”
Zhou Liu-lang looked at her.
“Yes,” he replied.
So direct and straightforward an answer left the maid slightly embarrassed, though she quickly understood.
Fathers are always figures of reverence in their sons’ eyes. But now, seeing that very father flustered and unsettled by a mere young woman—even if he understood it deep down—he probably didn’t want to witness it with his own eyes.
“Well then,” the maid smiled again, “Sixth Young Master, I suppose being feared by others isn’t necessarily a good thing either.”
To be first discarded like an old shoe, and then feared like a venomous snake—surely no one in this world would willingly choose such a fate.
A moment of silence settled at the doorway, the fine rain falling without a sound.
Cheng Jiao-niang paid no attention to their conversation. She had already turned and gone back inside. After walking into the courtyard, she stopped again, as if quite fond of the gentle rain. She stretched out her hand, slightly tilted her head, and looked up at the sky.
“I told my parents about all this. Is it inappropriate?” Zhou Liu-lang followed her in and asked. Without waiting for a reply, he added, “I just think… being feared is still better than being looked down on. And besides, even if there is fear, we’re still family. You don’t have to worry.”
Cheng Jiao-niang turned to look at him.
“You’re overthinking it,” she said. “I was never trying to hide anything. Whether you all know or not—what difference does it make?”
Whether it was contempt or fear—what did it matter to her?
Zhou Liu-lang exhaled quietly.
Once seated inside the room, a maid brought over tea. Ban Qin took a clean towel to dry Cheng Jiao-niang, while Zhou Liu-lang also received a towel—but without a maid’s assistance, he just gave his face a quick wipe and tossed it aside.
“What exactly did you do?” he asked.
“I didn’t do anything. You saw it all yourself,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Zhou Liu-lang scoffed.
“Are you telling me all it took was giving him a few nice gifts, bowing your head, pretending to surrender, and letting Shi’san spread a few rumors—and that made him so happy he came down with wind stroke?” he said. “He’s not an idiot!”
“He’s not an idiot,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “He’s a smart man. Cautious, honest, a clever man who treads carefully.”
“When did you poison him?” Zhou Liu-lang ignored her response and went straight to the point.
Even as he spoke, he was quickly going over the events in his mind.
Ever since it happened, he had been trying to figure it out. If there had been poison or some kind of drug involved, there had to have been contact. He had been present at every meeting with Secretariat Editor Liu, and always on Liu’s turf. The food and drink were naturally off-limits—no opportunity there. Could it really have been something invisible and intangible?
Zhou Liu-lang glanced at Cheng Jiao-niang. She was slightly tilting her head, while Ban Qin gently dried her long hair. Her pale neck looked especially slender.
He quickly looked away—this girl never used perfume.
There was no scent in the room at all.
Contact… invisible…
Then what was it?
“I don’t poison people,” Cheng Jiao-niang said calmly. “The purpose of medicine is to save and help others—how could it be used to harm?”
Zhou Liu-lang snorted, picked up his teacup, and slowly took a sip.
The tea was fragrant and refreshing, calming both body and mind.
Then, all of a sudden, something clicked in his mind.
“It’s the prescription!” he exclaimed, gripping the teacup tightly and looking at Cheng Jiao-niang with the excitement of solving a riddle. “The formula you gave him—the sachet! Did you poison the sachet?”
“Don’t be silly, Young Master,” the maid cut in. “Didn’t you see Master Liu didn’t even touch the sachet? Someone like him would never use something given by another so casually.”
Zhou Liu-lang frowned.
Something he wouldn’t casually use, yet couldn’t bear to discard… then it must be—the prescription!
The sheet of paper with the medical formula!
The paper itself surely wasn’t the issue, so that meant…
“The ink!” he looked up at Cheng Jiao-niang, eyes gleaming as the pieces fell into place. “That day, when you were writing, did you have the maid add something while grinding the ink?”
As he said this, Cheng Jiao-niang turned to look at him, her hand stopping mid-motion.
Seeing her expression, Zhou Liu-lang was finally certain.
“It’s nothing special,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, her gaze falling to the teacup still clutched in his hand. “Just the same tea you’re drinking now.”
Clatter—the teacup slipped from his hand and hit the ground, spilling what tea remained.
