At the order, archers hidden in the surrounding trees released a volley of arrows. The man in gray was caught off guard. He rolled on the ground, narrowly dodging the arrows that embedded into the earth. Ah Da and Li Qingquan had already drawn their blades and leapt down, pinning him from both sides with their swords to his neck.
But the man in gray wasn’t afraid of death. He flung another handful of poisonous powder toward the two. Ah Da and Li Qingquan, aiming to capture him alive, quickly covered their noses and jumped away. Peng Shi shot two darts with a swish—aimed at the man’s knees. He dodged one but couldn’t avoid the other, and with a cry of pain, dropped to his knees.
Ah Da stepped forward again, kicked him to the ground, twisted his arms behind his back, and tied him up tightly with a thick rope.
The man in gray—Li San’er—was dragged before Qian Jiaoniang. She scrutinized him. His face was neither handsome nor ugly—someone you’d forget on the street. Only his sunken eyes and the dark circles beneath them left some impression. Perhaps because of the dart wound from Peng Shi, his face looked ashen, like someone gravely ill.
Ding Zhang took the chance to tell Qian Jiaoniang that this man was responsible for watering and pruning in the back garden.
“What’s your name?” Qian Jiaoniang asked.
The man in gray didn’t answer. He just glared at her with a sullen gaze.
“Are you the one who caused the Marquis to end up like this?” she asked again.
Still no answer.
Li Qingquan punched him. “Gone mute?”
The man gave a muffled grunt and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Just kill me already!” His voice had a thick foreign accent, one Qian Jiaoniang had never heard before.
Qian Jiaoniang softened her tone. “We’re good people. We don’t like violence. How about this? If you lift the curse on the Marquis, I’ll let you go. How’s that?”
Li Qingquan protested, “Madam, this scum can’t be let go!”
Qian Jiaoniang glared at him. “I’m the madam. I decide!”
Li Qingquan wanted to say more, but Peng Shi stopped him.
The man in gray sneered, “Xing Muzheng… is going to die. He can’t be saved.”
Qian Jiaoniang narrowed her eyes. “We have a divine physician here. I know your gu curse only causes madness, not death.”
“I exchanged my blood for Xing Muzheng’s life,” the man said. “Hasn’t he been in excruciating pain these past two days? He won’t make it past today!”
Qian Jiaoniang’s face changed. She walked behind him and lifted his sleeve—sure enough, his wrist was wrapped in blood-stained gauze. So it was all his doing! She grabbed his collar and shouted, “My lord is perfectly fine! You think your gu is invincible? Master Wan already saw through your blood-fire gu. If he can see through it, he can cure it!”
“Can I?” Wan Wengyuan said nervously from not far away.
“If Jiaoniang says you can, then you can. We need to act confident,” Qingya whispered.
Wan Wengyuan straightened up quickly, putting on an air of confidence.
The man’s expression shifted. “I don’t believe you!” he growled and tried to bite off his tongue. But Ah Da was faster—he dislocated the man’s jaw. “You b*stard! Want to die? Not so easy!”
The man cried out in pain. Qian Jiaoniang, seeing this trick wouldn’t work, bent down and said with a squint, “I heard your Ji tribe worships the snake god and you dare not offend it, or you’ll never reincarnate. You believe it? I’ll serve you a whole table of snake meat—then let a swarm of snakes feast on you alive!”
These threats came straight from the book—Jiaoniang’s memory was amazing. Qingya only now recalled them as well.
Sure enough, the man’s face turned even grayer—like a corpse risen from the grave. Li Qingquan added fuel to the fire. “Keep messing around, and I’ll stuff a live snake down your throat right now!”
Ah Da reset his jaw. The man in gray gritted his teeth and looked skyward, his eyes filled with deep longing. Finally, he stiffened his neck and shouted with grim resolve, “Do as you please! A man like me has no next life anyway!”
“You little b*stard, I’ll make you wish you were dead right now!” Li Qingquan roared, grabbing his head as if to crush it with his bare hands.
Just then, perhaps because the child and mother gu were too close, the maddened screams of the Marquis rang out from inside the house.
Qian Jiaoniang turned toward the sound, then tightened her grip on the man in gray. “You say there’s no next life. But what about her—your master Duye?”
His face stiffened. Qian Jiaoniang clearly saw his pupils dilate sharply. She immediately threatened, “Mark my words—if you don’t lift the curse today, tomorrow I’ll track Duye down no matter where she hides. For every day my husband remains insane, I’ll feed her a day’s worth of snake meat. I’ll feed her until her whole body grows scales! And if he dies, I’ll feed her to a python in one gulp! If I, Qian Jiaoniang, don’t keep my word, may heaven strike me dead with lightning!”
Her vow thundered into the window and landed heavily in Xing Muzheng’s ears.
The man in gray suddenly lunged at her like a wild beast, as if he wanted to bite her to death. Li Qingquan and Ah Da had to hold him down with all their strength. He let out a desperate howl, “It has nothing to do with her! It was me—I alone wanted revenge on Xing Muzheng!”
“I don’t care who’s involved. If you don’t lift the curse, I’ll find her!” Qian Jiaoniang didn’t flinch. She flung her sleeve and said coldly, “You decide for yourself!”
The man in gray looked like a snake caught by its throat. His mouth opened wide, but no words came. In the end, he slumped, utterly defeated.
That afternoon, Xing Pingchun came home from school and heard a strange sound the moment he stepped into the courtyard. It was like someone whistling—sometimes long, sometimes short—drifting from inside the house. Birds nearby were startled and scattered as if frightened out of their wits.
Xing Pingchun stood dumbly, listening to the eerie whistling. It felt like he was in a deep forest or a bottomless cave. A chill crept up from the soles of his feet, and his hairs stood on end. He began to shiver uncontrollably.
Then a scream pierced the air, jolting him awake.
He ran into the house. “Mom! Dad!”
Qian Jiaoniang and Qingya stood outside the west wing room, their faces grave. She quickly stopped her son. “Don’t go in—your father is being treated.”
Xing Pingchun looked up at her, too frightened to breathe, and clutched her hand tightly.
Only then did Qian Jiaoniang realize his hands were ice cold. She held them and then wrapped him in her arms. “Are you cold?”
Xing Pingchun buried his head into Qian Jiaoniang’s embrace. Only then did the chill on his back subside. He shook his head hard.
Inside the room, the constant whistling and painful howls gripped everyone’s heart. Eventually, the whistling faded, and the howling turned into dry heaving—a sound that made it hard to breathe.
“He’s throwing it up! What the h*ll is that thing?!”
“Stomp it! Quick, stomp it dead!”
“Where did it go?!”
“There, over there!”
“Don’t let it run!”
“There’s another one!”
“Kill them all! Don’t let a single one get away!”
Qian Jiaoniang, Xing Pingchun, and Qingya said nothing, their ears strained to catch every sound from inside. After a while, the commotion finally died down.
Not long after, Ah Da came out, escorting the man in gray. His face carried an expression of relief and joy. “Madam, this b*stard said the gu curse on the Commander has been lifted.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s heart jumped. She asked tightly, “And your Commander—has he recovered?”
“He fainted, but the divine physician checked his pulse and said he’s alright.”
Qian Jiaoniang looked a little disappointed, but she nodded. “Take him away and keep a close watch. You guard him personally. Everything can wait until the Marquis wakes.”
Xing Pingchun was the first to rush into the inner room. A thick smell of blood lingered in the air. Wan Wengyuan crouched on the floor, carefully lifting a red, thread-like worm with a small stick. Qingya wrinkled her nose and covered it with a hand.
Qian Jiaoniang looked toward the bed where Xing Muzheng lay silently. His face was ashen, but his breathing was calm, as if he were merely asleep.
Wan Wengyuan placed the worm into a small gourd and, seeing Qian Jiaoniang staring fixedly at Xing Muzheng, said, “Don’t worry. The Marquis’s vital energy is greatly damaged, but with proper rest, he will recover on his own.”
Qian Jiaoniang smiled lightly and nodded.
