If you were cold and aloof in your past life, why are you crying in this one?

In the afternoon, Xi Lingxian went out to Liuchun Hall.

Madam Lu walked towards the back hall, with Xi Lingxian following behind her. They passed through the narrow corridor and entered the small room where the second master usually studied and made medicine. A portrait of the Medicine King Sun Simiao hung on the wall, and several well-worn medical books were spread out on the table.

Lu Niangzi walked to the desk, took out the cloth bag from the hidden compartment, opened it layer by layer, revealing two yellowed handwritten books.

"Here is a prescription that my master obtained from the Miao people. Before he died, the Miao people said that this was the thing they were most proud of and most ashamed of in their lives."

She turned to a page and pointed at it with her finger.

Xi Lingxian looked down and saw that the entire page was filled with densely packed tiny characters, the ink had faded, the paper was yellowed and brittle, and the edges were badly worn.

"The product made from this formula isn't poison. It's a kind of 'gu' (a type of poisonous insect).

"It doesn't kill people," Lu Niangzi's voice trailed off, "it makes people neither live nor die."

"Once you get used to it, you can't live without it. The first time you use it, you'll feel refreshed and euphoric; the second time, you'll feel uncomfortable without it. The third time, the fourth time—"

"After two or three times, a person becomes addicted; they can't stop taking the drug, otherwise it feels like a million ants are crawling in the cracks of their bones, scratching their heart and liver, causing unbearable pain. At that point, the person is no longer human—whatever you ask them to do, they will do. If you ask them to kill, they will do it; if you ask them to steal, they will do it; if you ask them to kneel on the ground and bark like a dog, they will do it too."

"He only had one thought in his mind—give me the medicine."

Xi Lingxian stood there, a chill running down her spine.

"This kind of thing," her voice was a little hoarse, "if it falls into the hands of someone with ulterior motives..."

Madam Lu smiled bitterly, "When my master left this prescription, he said that if this stuff is in the hands of a doctor, it's used to save lives because it can relieve pain. But if it's in the hands of a villain, it can destroy a person, a family, and an entire dynasty."

With Xi Lingxian standing there, everything made sense.

What Yu Liang wanted was something addictive, something that could drive people to madness, something that could make people obey like dogs.

The afternoon sun was shining brightly, warming her body. Xi Lingxian walked out of the pharmacy and looked up at the sky.

The sky was a clear, bright blue, with a few white clouds drifting lazily by. The autumn sky is always so clean, so clean that it makes you feel there shouldn't be so much filth in the world.

But that's exactly what happened to her.

Turning past Liuxiang and stepping onto the long street, a sweet fragrance suddenly wafted over.

Following the aroma, she saw a small sugar figurine stall on the street corner. An old craftsman sat behind the furnace, holding a lump of golden sugar syrup in his hand, and in a few quick movements, he created a lifelike little rabbit.

Next to it were rows of finished sugar figurines, including peonies and carp, each one crystal clear and gleaming with an amber light in the afternoon sun.

Looking at the sugar figurines, Lingxian suddenly remembered that when she was little, her father would bring her a sugar figurine every time he came back from going out.

Sometimes it's a butterfly, sometimes a pony, and sometimes a flower whose name she doesn't know.

She was always reluctant to eat it, holding it in her hand and looking at it again and again, until the sugar figurine was half melted before she would reluctantly lick it.

"Young lady, would you like to buy one?" the old craftsman asked with a smile.

Lingxian's gaze swept over the row of sugar figurines, hesitating. "?"

The master craftsman scooped up a spoonful of syrup and, with a flick of his wrist, sketched the outline of a galloping horse.

Lingxian was completely absorbed in watching.

"Excellent craftsmanship."

A gentle voice came from beside me.

Xi Lingxian turned her head and saw a man in a blue robe standing two steps away from her.

Zhou Shuhuai

He clearly recognized her too, paused for a moment, then bowed respectfully, "Miss Xi, I didn't expect to run into you here."

Lingxian returned the greeting: "Young Master Zhou."

After the master craftsman finished painting the horse, he carefully picked it up with a bamboo stick and handed it to her: "Young lady, here is your horse."

Xi Lingxian took it, took out some money from her purse, and put it on the stall.

Zhou Shuhuai also stepped forward, his gaze lingering on the butterfly for a moment.

"Does Young Master Zhou like this too?"

Zhou Shuhuai smiled. "I liked them when I was little. When my mother was alive, she would bring me one every time she went to the market."

He paused, his voice softening slightly, "After my mother passed away, I never ate it again."

Xi Lingxian's fingers paused slightly.

She lowered her eyes, remained silent for a moment, and said to the master craftsman, "Please draw another butterfly."

The master chef responded, scooped up a spoonful of syrup, and with a flick of his wrist, a butterfly with outstretched wings landed on the iron plate.

Xi Lingxian took it and handed it to Zhou Shuhuai.

"Here, take this."

Zhou Shuhuai was stunned. He took the butterfly and looked down at it for a long time.

"Thank you, Miss Xi."

"We only met briefly at Jiulong Mountain last time."

"What a coincidence to meet you today! I wonder if you'd be interested in visiting the teahouse up ahead? Their osmanthus cake is quite good."

His gaze was open and honest, and his tone was sincere, without the scrutiny and sizing typical of scions of noble families, nor the deliberate flattery.

She thought for a moment and nodded.

"it is good."

The two walked side by side down the street, with Zhao Tieshan and Zhou Wu following at a distance.

"Last time at Kowloon Mountain, I saw you sitting on the side, listening to the long, pleasant conversation, but you didn't say much. Did you find it boring?"

"It's not that it's boring," she thought for a moment, "it's just that some things, no matter how much you argue about them, you can't really get to the bottom of them."

Zhou Shuhuai laughed, "What you said reminds me of a line from Zhuangzi: 'Great eloquence is silent.' You must have heard what I said in the valley last time; it was nothing more than parroting what others had said."

Xi Lingxian shook her head: "Young Master Zhou is too modest. What you said last time was insightful and different from others. I could tell that you weren't arguing about winning or losing, but rather stating your own reasoning."

Zhou Shuhuai paused slightly and turned his head to look at her.

"Young lady, you have a good eye. In intellectual discussions, most people are arguing about winning or losing, saving face, and the superiority of their own schools of thought. Few people truly care about the principles themselves. Sometimes I feel that instead of arguing back and forth, it's better to do as you say—listen quietly."

"Young Master Zhou is quite insightful," she said.

Zhou Shuhuai smiled, with a hint of self-deprecation: "I've just seen too much, so I've become too lazy to argue. In the end, all the arguing in this world is just a waste of time."

When Wang Jue returned from court that evening, a secret report had already been delivered to his desk.

Wang Jue's gaze lingered on the three characters "Zhou Shuhuai" for a long time.

Chang'an stood to the side, feeling the temperature in the study gradually decreasing.

"Zhou Shuhuai," Wang Jue read the name aloud.

He slowly ran his thumb across the paper, as if caressing a knife blade.

Zhou Shuhuai.

The Zhou family of Yixing was a collateral branch that declined after his paternal uncle Wang Zhang rebelled.

The Zhou family currently holds no respectable official positions in the court and has little presence in aristocratic circles.

Zhou Shuhuai himself was somewhat talented and had a small reputation in intellectual circles, but he was still a commoner and did not even hold a proper official position.

Such a person would not normally catch his eye.

Wang Jue's fingers tightened slightly, causing the pages to rustle softly.

He had considered the possibility that Xi Lingxian might have contact with other men.

They had already made preparations to deal with it.

but……

Has she lost her mind?!

What did she see in a scion of a fallen noble family, with no official rank, no title, no power, and no influence?

The man's brows furrowed slightly.

He was used to calculating every step carefully and taking every variable into account, but he had never taken Zhou Shuhuai seriously.

A declining branch of the family, a scholar who showed off his eloquence in a literary forum, appeared in a place he never expected.

It feels terrible when things get out of control.

"Zhou Shuhuai, he has taken a different approach."

"Investigate Zhou Shuhuai thoroughly, and report everything, no matter how small."

"Yes," Chang'an replied, turning to leave.

"Also," Wang Jue called out to him, her voice still calm, "keep a close eye on Liuchuntang as well."

Chang'an agreed and quickly withdrew.

The study fell silent again.

He picked up his brush again, dipped it in ink, and continued to copy the unfinished "Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River".

The pen strokes landed on the paper, each stroke deliberate and unhurried.

When he wrote "walking lightly on the water, her silk stockings stirring up dust," his wrist paused slightly, and the ink smeared into a small blot on the paper.

He looked at the ink stain, peeled off the page, and crumpled it into a ball.

I laid out a new sheet of paper and started writing from the beginning.

He would never allow anyone to disrupt his chess game.