Chapter Forty-One: Laying Bait to Catch Fish

Qin Xiaomo realized that if she had eaten that bowl of noodles, she would now be the one lying in bed. Clearly, someone had been lurking in the shadows, having heard that generating oxygen could save lives. She happened to block this person’s plans, prompting them to act hastily to get rid of her. Poor Xiao Anzi had taken the blow in her stead.

Originally, Qin Xiaomo’s intention was simply to cure the Third Young Master of the Valley and leave. Now, she saw that unless she exposed the culprit, she would not be able to walk out alive herself. Fortunately, she had prepared a backup plan. Let’s see whose cunning prevails in the end.

“Ding Zhan, does your courtyard prepare its own meals, or does the kitchen send everything over?” Qin Xiaomo asked, looking at the Third Young Master sleeping on the bed.

“The kitchen sends everything,” Ding Zhan replied.

“What about water? I saw a well in the corner of the yard this afternoon. Do you draw water from there?”

“Yes. The East Wing is farthest from the estate’s main well, so it’s always troublesome to deliver water. The Third Young Master loves tea, so the Old Master had a well dug here for the Third and Second Young Masters’ convenience. Is there a problem, Prophet?”

“Does the Second Young Master also use this well?”

“The Second Young Master prefers gentle voices and rarely returns, so he hardly uses this well.”

“Nothing in particular—I’m just curious.” Qin Xiaomo couldn’t shake the feeling that someone in the estate was behind it. She thought of Jiang Wei, whose martial skills were excellent, and decided to have him eavesdrop around the walls at night. “Jiang Wei, Jiang Wei?”

“Miss Qin, Brother Jiang heard that Xiao Anzi was poisoned by noodles meant for you, and stormed out of the estate in anger,” said Red Mole, feeding oranges to White Dumpling, whose fur turned yellow from eating.

“Did you ask where he went? Take White Dumpling to be washed, then let him rest in the guest room. I’ll need your help soon.”

“Understood.” Red Mole went out.

“Ding Zhan, please invite the Old Master here. I have something to discuss with him.”

After a while, the Old Master arrived, nervously asking, “Prophet, why have you summoned me to this secluded room? Is there a relapse in Xian’er’s illness?”

“Old Master, the Third Young Master’s illness may be cured, or it may not. I can’t say for certain.” Qin Xiaomo looked helpless.

“Please don’t speak in riddles. Though I found your treatments strange today, my son’s condition has stabilized. I believe you have real skill. Speak plainly, please.”

“Do you truly wish to save the Third Young Master?”

“Of course,” the Old Master replied firmly.

“If it causes unrest in your household, will you still do it?” Qin Xiaomo wondered just how much he cherished the Third Young Master.

Indeed, the Old Master frowned and pondered, then looked up at Qin Xiaomo with a complicated expression. “What do you mean, Prophet?”

“It’s only speculation, no evidence.”

“Miss Qin, you are ruthless, asking the hardest question of all.”

“Making a decision is simple—it depends on what you value more. This is not a matter where both sides can be satisfied,” Qin Xiaomo, who had seen plenty of palace intrigue, replied.

“I wish only to save Xian’er without implicating others. Is that possible?” the Old Master asked with difficulty.

“Have you heard today that Xiao Anzi, who serves the Third Young Master, was poisoned?”

The Old Master nodded and asked, “He must have secretly eaten Xian’er’s food days ago, and the effects only showed today?”

“His symptoms came on suddenly and violently, clearly caused by the poisoned noodles today. The dosage was enough to kill. Had I not been nearby, he would already be dead.”

“Why mention him? He’s only a servant at my son’s side,” the Old Master said dismissively.

“That bowl of noodles was meant for me.” Qin Xiaomo paused, watching the Old Master, who was so shocked he couldn’t speak. She continued, “Old Master, if I’d eaten those noodles this afternoon, do you think the Third Young Master would still be alive? Let’s put aside my identity as a Prophet called here to heal and save lives—even as the wife of a minor noble from Jingxu County, if I died in Wanjin Valley, what would happen to your estate? Even if I am not favored in Jingxu, would the Old Lady of the County stand idly by when her authority is challenged?” Qin Xiaomo said this nervously; after all, her status as Qian Mubai’s wife was not valued, and if anything happened to her, likely no one would stand up for her.

“This would drag Xian’er to his death, risking the whole Wanjin Valley!” The Old Master seemed to understand, letting go of something. “Prophet, what do you want to do?”

“I want to find the one who harmed us,” Qin Xiaomo said firmly.

“Very well!”

With the Old Master’s approval, Qin Xiaomo could act freely.

“Ding Zhan, have someone spread word outside that...” Qin Xiaomo whispered instructions in Ding Zhan’s ear.

In the garden, two maids passed by, whispering to each other. One was Yan Hong, the Second Young Master’s maid.

“Yan Hong, did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“The Third Young Master’s illness suddenly worsened. Even that strange oxygen-making method by the Prophet didn’t work this afternoon.”

“What? Impossible! Wasn’t he much better today? He could even speak.”

“That’s what the kitchen staff said—he was better, then suddenly got worse. If he doesn’t make it through tonight, the Third Young Master... will surely die...” Before she could finish, Yan Hong quickly covered her mouth, anxiously looking around.

“Don’t say such things. If the Old Master hears, he might cut out your tongue.”

Frightened, the young maid covered her mouth and hurried off with Yan Hong. Red Mole, hidden behind the rockery, grinned in satisfaction and rushed back to report to Qin Xiaomo.

In the Second Young Master’s residence, Yan Hong relayed everything she had overheard.

“Second Young Master, what do you think?” she asked softly.

“It’s all that damned mustached drug merchant’s fault. He said the medicine would only make someone sick, giving me a chance to take the Valley Master’s seat. Instead, it almost killed Third Brother. Have you found that mustached man?”

“Our people searched everywhere. Yesterday someone saw him in the street, pulling a woman onto a carriage, but since then there’s been no news. I’ve stationed people nearby to report immediately if anything turns up,” Yan Hong replied.

“He’s put me in a terrible position. Forget the drugging—never meant to truly kill him. Go dispose of all those medicines; don’t leave any trace.”

“Yes, I’ll take care of it at once.” Yan Hong quietly left.