Chapter Forty-Five: The Revealed Bone-Dissolving Pill

“My son is unaware, but things are truly lively today. Could someone present here kindly provide some answers?” As Xu Zichu turned, he caught sight of the apothecary with the thin mustache. A jolt of unease struck his heart, but he quickly recovered—after all, the situation had escalated to this point before the man dared show his face. The drug was his concoction; unless he wished for his own doom, he would not dare to speak recklessly! Glancing aside, Xu Zichu’s eyes fell upon the tea shop owner. He continued, “Ah, you’ve already sent your tea leaves to my home? You’re quite the businessman.”

Qin Xiaomo, observing the scene, realized the Second Young Master intended to deny everything. She spoke up, “Boss, you just said that only the Second Young Master had come into contact with this tea. Do you still stand by that?”

“I do!” The tea shop owner stiffened his neck as he spoke.

“I have no quarrel with you—don’t try to frame me,” Xu Zichu retorted with contempt, stepping back.

“I only showed the tea to you and no one else. How can you claim I’m framing you?”

“Very well! Since you insist I poisoned the tea, produce your evidence! Witnesses or material proof—if you have even one, I will admit guilt.” Xu Zichu was confident the tea shop owner had no evidence.

“I…” The tea shop owner was at a loss. Upon careful thought, no one had seen him—he had even sent his clerk out to make deliveries before taking the precious tea from the cabinet.

Qin Xiaomo realized she had overlooked the need for evidence. In a place where words alone meant nothing and there were no surveillance devices, there was little to be learned. For the first time, she found herself longing for the conveniences of advanced technology.

“Boss, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” Xu Zichu chuckled softly and turned to the Old Master of the Valley. “Father, have you anything else to say? If not…”

His words were interrupted.

“Master, we’ve apprehended a suspicious individual!” Ding Zhan’s voice boomed from afar.

The Old Master leapt to his feet, his voice tight with anxiety. “Who is it?”

Ding Zhan strode into the room, gripping a maid by her collar. He tossed her onto the floor. “It’s her!”

The maid lifted her head—it was Yan Hong.

Xu Zichu felt a cold sweat break out in his palms at the sight of her, the calm he’d displayed moments before utterly vanished.

“I was searching for clues near the kitchen when I saw her sneaking past the back door. Curious, I followed her quietly and saw her dig a hole beneath the pear tree at the corner of the yard to bury something. I dug it up as well.” Ding Zhan handed an oil paper packet to the Old Master.

He unwrapped it to reveal a white powder. “Is this… poison?”

“I don’t know, so I brought it for you and the physician to examine,” Ding Zhan replied.

“Physician, see if this is poison.” The Old Master handed the packet to the apothecary.

One sniff and the apothecary knew at once. “Indeed! This powder induces vomiting, dizziness, and difficulty breathing.”

The Old Master’s anger exploded. “Wretched girl, who put you up to this?”

Yan Hong raised her eyes to Xu Zichu’s elegant face, resolve hardening within her. “No one instructed me. It was all my own idea.”

“You are a loyal servant,” Qin Xiaomo remarked, understanding that without evidence, Yan Hong would never reveal her master. “Then let me ask you—why did you try to poison the Third Young Master?”

“Because… because he made advances at me several times.” Yan Hong rolled her eyes, racking her brains. “I am but a powerless woman and had to endure. But hatred festered, and I could no longer bear his abuse, so I resorted to poison.”

“Nonsense! Our Third Young Master is a gentleman, courteous to all, and has never overstepped with anyone in his household. You, from a side courtyard, flatter yourself—who do you think you are?” Ding Zhan’s indignation was palpable.

Yan Hong bit her lip in fury.

“I see the Second Young Master treats you well. All clues point to him, yet you shoulder all the blame yourself—he must have been good to you,” Qin Xiaomo said with a faint smile.

“Second Young Master is indeed kind. He treats even us servants with respect,” Yan Hong’s tone softened as she spoke of Xu Zichu.

“If he’s so good to you, why not tell him? Let him defend your honor. If he is as you say, he would surely help you,” Qin Xiaomo pressed.

“Prophet, you keep steering the conversation, trying to make me accuse the Second Young Master. What are your intentions?”

“I hear your grievances and am only seeking a better solution than poison. If you do not fear death, why would you fear telling your master?”

“I am but a maid. What right have I to ask the Second Young Master to stand up for me? I acted alone. You need not question me further.” Yan Hong was resigned to her fate.

As long as his son remained uninvolved, this suited the Old Master just fine. “Since the real culprit has been caught, beat her to death with sticks and throw her body to the wild beasts behind the mountain—let that be the end of it.”

At the mention of a beating, Yan Hong’s body trembled despite herself, struggling to control her fear.

“One last question—was it also you who poisoned the noodles?” Qin Xiaomo was getting anxious.

“Yes!” Yan Hong, face set in grim determination, had no idea what noodles were being referred to, but assumed it concerned something Xu Zichu had done, so she admitted to everything.

Just then, a young servant rushed in. “The Divine Doctor Xue has confessed under torture about the Bone-Melting Pill!”

The Old Master’s fury erupted. “Bring that scoundrel before me!”

Xue, the Divine Doctor, had been whipped until blood covered his body. He was unable to stand, trembling violently. Yan Hong, seeing his condition, shook even harder.

Seeing the Old Master, Xue reached out with bloodstained hands, clutching at his shoes and kneeling. “Master, I dare not again! It hurts too much! Please, spare me—spare my life! I’ll tell you everything I know!”

“That will depend on your answers.” The Old Master narrowed his eyes cunningly.

“When did you administer the Bone-Melting Pill, and how?” Qin Xiaomo asked.

“It was all Lanzhi’s idea. She saw me troubled and said she could help. She was the one who put the poison in the Third Young Master’s water flask. I didn’t do it!” Xue, desperate to save his life, threw caution to the wind, but to others, it sounded like he was shirking responsibility.

“Arrest Lanzhi as well!” The Old Master grew angrier—why was his household full of such treacherous people?

“What is your relationship to Lanzhi?” someone asked.

“Lanzhi is my cousin… my younger cousin. We grew up together, but after my aunt sold her into the manor, we lost contact,” Xue replied.

“Why target the Third Young Master?” Qin Xiaomo asked.

“Hmph! It’s all your fault. If you had eaten that bowl of noodles, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“So you poisoned the noodles? Was it also the Bone-Melting Pill?”

Xue nodded impatiently.

“Hurry! Give Xiao Anzi the antidote!” Qin Xiaomo urged immediately.

“Why?” Qin Xiaomo was baffled.

“The poison wouldn’t have killed you, but if the Third Young Master died, the Old Master would have had you beaten to death. I had no other choice, though it nearly cost the Third Young Master his life for your sake.”

“All because you were called an incompetent doctor, you would kill me?” Qin Xiaomo exclaimed.

“How could I let some country girl humiliate me with amateur tricks that just happened to improve the Third Young Master’s health? My reputation as a divine doctor, earned over decades, could not be overshadowed by the likes of you!” Xue spat, his words filled with bitterness.

Upon hearing that Xue had poisoned the noodles, Yan Hong’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The Old Master turned to Yan Hong, fearful she might say something harmful about his son. “You spout nothing but lies and implicate your masters with veiled accusations. There’s no reason to keep you alive.”

Qin Xiaomo, worried Yan Hong would actually be killed and the matter buried, turned and said, “With your life at stake, is there still anything worth concealing?”

But Yan Hong was too frightened by Xue’s wounds and the Old Master’s presence to utter a word.

At that moment, the apothecary with the thin mustache idly fiddled with his teacup, muttering, whether to himself or to the room, “Such unprincipled conduct is beneath contempt. Evil-doers cannot be tolerated.”

Everyone present caught the underlying meaning, exchanging nervous glances.

Better to confess than let another expose him—“It was me!” The Second Young Master, Xu Zichu, could no longer hold his tongue.