Chapter 17 Suspicion of Song Qingyuan's Illness
The study room fell into a silence even more terrifying than before.
Qi Ming knelt on the ground, his clothes soaked with cold sweat, clinging to his skin. He didn't dare to look up, or even breathe loudly.
The master's laughter just now frightened him more than any thunderous rage.
Shen Yanzhi slowly stood up and walked to the window. The cold moonlight sprinkled on him, but it could not illuminate the dark color in his eyes.
He is no longer the Prince Jing'an who holds great power in the capital.
He is now a beast trapped in a cage with its teeth pulled out and claws broken.
But a beast, even trapped, is still a beast. Even if its claws are gone, it still has poisonous fangs.
"Qi Ming."
His voice was calm and without a ripple, like the surface of a frozen lake in winter.
"I'm here."
"The palace has been sealed, and all our outward limbs are cut off." Shen Yanzhi looked at the small patch of sky outside the window that was cut off by the palace wall, and said indifferently, "But there are always some rats in the gutter who cannot see the light of day."
Qi Ming's heart trembled and he looked up suddenly.
"Your Highness means..."
"Wake up those who buried us in the dark." Shen Yanzhi turned around, the moonlight cast a long shadow behind him, and there was a poisonous calmness in his eyes.
"This prince wants to know everything about the palace doctor's income and expenditure in the month before he committed suicide, including the brand of rouge his wife bought and whose dog his son had a fight with in the street. I want to know everything."
"This prince wants to know who the new faces are in my good brothers' houses recently, and how many suppliers have been changed for the kitchen purchases.
Especially the Crown Prince, he seems to be particularly fond of listening to operas recently. He wants to find out which troupe it is, who the troupe owner is, and who the mainstay of the troupe is close to.
He spoke one sentence at a time, neither hurried nor slow, and every word was like an ice-cold nail, hammering into Qi Ming's heart.
The prince was not defeated.
He just... changed to a more ruthless approach, ready to tear his enemies apart.
"I understand!" Qi Ming's voice was filled with uncontrollable excitement. "A rat in the gutter should die in the gutter!"
"Wait." Shen Yanzhi called him.
Qi Ming stopped.
"Let's go to Furong Garden and take a look." Shen Yanzhi's eyes were deep, "This prince wants to know whether Concubine Song is really sick or faking it."
Qi Ming's heart was shocked, and he instantly understood what his master meant.
tuberculosis?
What a coincidence at this juncture.
It was so coincidental that it seemed like a chess piece carefully placed by someone.
Qi Ming took the order and retreated, his footsteps carrying a murderous aura that had been suppressed for a long time.
In the study, Shen Yanzhi was the only one left.
He returned to his desk, spread out a piece of white paper, picked up the pen, but did not put it down for a long time.
The paper was empty, just like his current situation.
But the web in his mind was being woven at a rapid speed.
The court physician, the Xue family, the prince, the second brother, the fourth brother...all the seemingly unrelated people and things are connected by an invisible thread.
He lost the first game miserably.
But the game has just begun.
…
Hibiscus Garden.
The courtyard, once adorned with flowers, was now shrouded in a cloud of gloom. The servants remained silent, walking close to the walls for fear of attracting any bad luck.
The air was filled with a strong and bitter smell of medicine, mixed with a faint smell of blood.
When Shen Yanzhi stepped into the courtyard, the maid guarding the corridor was so scared that she fell to her knees with a plop, shaking all over.
"Prince...Prince..."
Shen Yanzhi didn't even look at her and walked in.
The inner room was dimly lit and the windows were closed tightly, leaving no room for air.
Beneath the brocade quilt, Song Qingyuan lay in bed, her face pale, her lips chapped, her eyes tightly closed. Her once bright and beautiful face now looked sickly and haggard.
She seemed to be sleeping very restlessly, with her brows tightly furrowed and a suppressed cough or two emanating from time to time.
Hearing the sound of the door being pushed open, a little maid who was serving nearby turned around suddenly. When she saw the person coming, she was so scared that the handkerchief in her hand dropped to the ground.
"Your Majesty..."
"go out."
Shen Yanzhi's voice was cold, without a trace of warmth.
The little maidservant was as if she had been pardoned, and she ran out crawling and rolling.
Shen Yanzhi walked to the bedside and looked down at the dying woman on the bed.
There was no pity or anger in his eyes, only cold scrutiny.
It's like looking at a dead object that might hold clues.
As if feeling the pressing chill, Song Qingyuan's eyelashes trembled and he slowly opened his eyes.
When she saw the person standing beside the bed, a glimmer of light suddenly flashed in her cloudy eyes, and then turned into endless grievance and fear.
"Prince...Prince..."
Her voice was hoarse and she struggled to stand up and salute.
“Cough… cough cough…”
The violent movement triggered a heart-wrenching cough. She covered her chest and curled up in the coughing.
Shen Yanzhi just looked at him coldly without saying a word.
Until she coughed so hard that she could hardly breathe, and covered her mouth with a handkerchief, the snow-white handkerchief was instantly stained with a glaring bright red.
Her hands were shaking, and she subconsciously tried to hide the handkerchief behind her.
But Shen Yanzhi moved before her.
He stretched out his hand, not to help her, but to pull the blood-stained handkerchief out of her hand.
He pinched a corner of the handkerchief, raised it to his eyes, and looked at it slowly.
Then, he looked up at the woman on the bed who was shaking even more violently, and a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"This blood, coughed up really punctually."
Song Qingyuan's body trembled violently, tears instantly welled up in his eyes and slid down his pale cheeks.
"Your Highness... do you think I'm feigning illness and lying to you?"
Her voice was broken, filled with endless despair, "I know that Your Highness is in a difficult situation right now, and I wish I could help Your Highness solve his problems.
But I am useless, I can’t do anything, and I have contracted this fatal disease, becoming a burden to the prince…”
She burst into tears, struggled to grab the corner of his clothes, looked up at him, her eyes full of complete attachment and humility.
"Your Majesty, my life belongs to you. If you no longer trust me and think I'm one of those people who plotted against you... then I'd rather die now."
Shen Yanzhi's gaze fell on her hand, which was so thin that only bones remained, and she was clutching the corner of her clothes. His eyes moved slightly.
The scrutiny and coldness in his eyes quietly melted a little in those tear-soaked eyes that only reflected him.
He had just lost everything, and the woman in front of him told him in the most clumsy and humble way that everything she had belonged to him.
He slowly leaned over and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with the hand that was not holding the handkerchief.
"It's my fault." His voice was low, losing its previous coldness and carrying a subtle hint of apology. "Something happened in the palace. I... shouldn't have suspected you."
He put the blood-stained handkerchief aside and tucked the corner of the quilt for her, his movements being quite gentle.
"Focus on recuperating and don't let your imagination run wild." He looked at her and said word by word, "This king still wants you to live well."
Song Qingyuan looked at him blankly, the light in his eyes rekindled, and he nodded vigorously.
Shen Yanzhi comforted her a few more times before turning and leaving.
Outside the door, Qi Ming had already been waiting in the corridor like a shadow.
Shen Yanzhi handed over the blood-stained handkerchief that he had been holding in his palm.
"Your Highness?" Qi Ming was puzzled.
On Shen Yanzhi's face, the warmth that had just appeared in the inner room had long since disappeared without a trace, leaving only a frost.
"Find a trustworthy doctor to examine this prince."
He lowered his voice to a very low level, like the whisper of a devil crawling out of hell.
"Is this blood human blood or chicken blood?"
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