With her deceased husband as her dowry, would Your Highness dare to marry her?

"Is the Imperial Concubine here?"

A clear, cold voice suddenly rang out from outside.

It is Lin Ci.

Consort Chang trembled slightly and almost fell off the stool.

What is she here for?

Outside the door, Pearl asked politely, "Madam Lin, what brings you here?"

"I promised to write a prescription for the Imperial Concubine at Bailong Temple a few days ago. I was delayed these past few days, and only just remembered it, so I rushed over to deliver it."

Lin Ci handed the prescription to Pearl and said, "Later, brew a pot of plum blossom tea for Her Majesty to soothe the liver, regulate qi, relieve depression, and calm the mind."

Pearl accepted the gift with both hands, smiling, and said, "Thank you for your concern, Madam. I will go and prepare it right away. Thank you."

"You're too kind." Lin Ci nodded slightly, bowed, and took her leave. Her footsteps faded into the distance, disappearing at the end of the hall.

Pearl gently knocked on the door, as if to come in.

Consort Chang seemed to wake from a dream, hurriedly tore the brocade from the beam, crumpled it up haphazardly, and stuffed it deep into the bedding.

"Your Majesty." Pearl entered and bowed, presenting the recipe. "Lady Lin just delivered this recipe and instructed me to brew Your Majesty a pot of plum blossom tea."

Consort Chang turned her face away, not wanting Pearl to see her tearful face.

"I understand. Go and prepare the medicine according to the prescription. I'll thank you again later, Madam Lin."

"Here you are."

"Wait a minute," Consort Chang called out to Pearl, "When I returned just now, did you have something to say?"

Pearl hurriedly replied, "Your Majesty, it's the young prince. He was crying and looking for you just now, and he made a fuss for quite a while. His wet nurse had to soothe him for a long time before he finally fell asleep."

Consort Chang listened in a daze, her hand unconsciously covering her chest.

Oh, right... she also has a son!

If he dies like this, what will happen to Lin'er? Will the Empress treat him well?

In this deep palace, how long can a young prince survive without a mother to protect him?

She almost did the stupidest thing in the world!

"Quickly, have the wet nurse bring Lin'er here!" Consort Chang suddenly turned around, her eyes lighting up again. "Go now!"

**

At 3:45 PM, at the Liang Prince's Mansion.

The steward, clutching a prescription, hurried through the corridors and arrived at the study door.

He bowed and knocked on the door three times, with utmost respect.

"Your Highness, the Imperial Medical Academy has prepared the prescription for your headache. The medicine has also been prepared."

"Bring it in."

"Here you are."

The steward carefully pushed open the door, keeping his eyes straight ahead, gently placed the prescription and a bundle of herbs on the corner of the table, and then bowed and retreated the way he came.

King Liang carried the prescription to the candlestick and squinted as he read it line by line. After finishing, he opened the medicine packet and pushed the herbs toward Xuan Jing.

"Let's see what's so special about this medicine?"

Xuan Jing took the herbs, first bringing them to her nose to smell them, then carefully rubbing each herb between her fingertips. Her empty eyes remained lowered, her face expressionless.

"Nothing special about it."

"Really?" King Liang took the medicine packet back and read out the prescription one ingredient at a time, "Cinnamon twig, aconite, astragalus, angelica..."

After reciting the names a few times, he stopped.

He could recite these medicines with his eyes closed; wasn't this what the Emperor of Yan took every day?

Xuan Jing nodded and said calmly, "This is the prescription His Majesty used yesterday, with the addition of one more ingredient, Sichuan lovage."

"Hmph." King Liang sneered and casually tossed the medicine packet onto the table.

The hemp paper was thrown into pieces, and half of the medicinal herbs spilled out.

Xuanjing raised his hand and slowly groped around, picking up the scattered medicinal herbs one by one and putting them back in their original places.

"I thought my good nephew was going to die tonight. Who knew he would only teeter on the brink of death before being pulled back."

As he spoke, King Liang leaned back in his chair, his dark blue eyes as cold and deep as a well, so dark that they could not reflect any light.

"Your Highness need not worry," Xuanjing said, carefully tying a knot in the hemp rope used to bind the herbs. "Given Emperor Yan's condition, I'm afraid he won't survive until the beginning of summer."

"That's true, but now we have this Ghost Hand's apprentice out of nowhere, ruining my plans at every turn." King Liang clenched his fist and slammed it on the table. "Today, we were just one step away from taking down Prince Jing'an as well, just one step away!"

He gritted his teeth, unwilling to give up.

"Your Highness, let this humble monk play a tune for you to relieve your worries and dispel your misfortunes."

As he spoke, Xuanjing took out a purple bamboo flute from his sleeve. The flute was oily and glossy, and it shone slightly in the candlelight.

He brought the bamboo flute to his lips and gently pressed the holes with his fingers. A wisp of flute music floated up, seeping out from the cracks in the window like smoke and mist, drifting through the snowy night sky.

King Liang became even more vigilant.

He frowned and glanced out the window.

Where he couldn't see or hear, Amo was leading two bodyguards in ambush. They too heard the flute music and exchanged glances.

Tonight, Xuanjing will surely be driven to his death.

The guard quietly drew his crossbow bolt, just as the flute melody rose sharply, clear and almost piercing.

Before the arrow was even drawn, the guard's body suddenly went limp and he fell to the ground silently, as if he had fallen asleep.

Amo was shocked and quickly reached out to check his pulse; he was dead.

Suddenly, there was another movement beside them. Another guard also fell, bleeding from all seven orifices, his death gruesome.

Amo realized something was wrong and quickly took out his tinderbox to shine behind him. Dozens of dark shadows were moving behind him, stopping just as the light shone on them, like ink seeping from the wall.

It's a snake!

Before I knew it, snakes had gathered at the base of the wall. Some were green, some were black, and one had shimmering silver scales and blood-red eyes.

Dozens of snakes coiled around each other, raising half their bodies and hissing as they flicked their tongues.

Amo drew his sword and swung it horizontally. With a flash of light, a row of snake heads were severed in unison. The snakes that landed were still writhing when new snakes surged forward.

Before he could sheathe his sword, he was bitten on the calf, and the burning pain instantly spread up his leg.

Amo gritted his teeth, pulled out his dagger, and sliced ​​away the flesh around the wound. Then he tore off a piece of his clothes and haphazardly tied it around the wound. He didn't care about the corpses of the two guards, leaped over the courtyard wall, and disappeared into the vast snowy night.

The music ended, and the snakes dispersed.

Xuanjing put his hands together and softly chanted "Amitabha".

"Your Highness, I have already driven away the rats in your residence."

"Oh?" King Liang casually twirled the jade thumb ring on his thumb. "Is the rat dead or alive?"

"That depends on his fate."

"It must be someone from the Prince of Jing'an's faction." The Prince of Liang smiled disdainfully, "They sneaked into my residence in the dead of night to seek their death."

Xuan Jing lowered her eyes and smiled faintly, "It would be best if she were really from the Jing'an Prince's Mansion. Let's see if she can solve this problem."

"What do you mean?"

"If that woman could learn even one-thousandth of the Ghost Hand's skill, she could spare the life of the secret guard. However, after that, he would be like grass and trees, without knowledge or feeling, motionless and unawakened."

"What if you learn just one percent?"

"That is hemiplegia. You can open your eyes and move a finger, but you will be bedridden for the rest of your life."

"What if I could learn all of Ghost Hand's skills?"

Xuanjing paused slightly, his empty eyes turning towards King Liang.

"Then the poison can be completely cured, and one will be no different from an ordinary person. If so, Prince Jing'an will be even more powerful, and that lady must not be allowed to live."

King Liang nodded solemnly.

He lowered his eyes, idly toying with the thumb ring on his thumb, and said with a half-smile, "I'm actually looking forward to it. Xuanjing, well done."

Xuan Jing lowered his eyes and clasped his hands together. His delicate face was half-lit and half-shadowed in the candlelight, untouched by worldly dust.

The snow was falling heavier and heavier.

Amo stumbled through the back alley, clinging to the wall as he made his way back to the Jing'an Prince's Mansion. His face had taken on an eerie bluish-purple hue, and the veins on his neck stretched out like vines.

His vision grew increasingly blurry, and with each breath, his chest felt as if it were filled with lead, so heavy that he could barely hold on. With his last shred of consciousness, he made his way into the backyard and collapsed in front of Princess Yongle's courtyard gate.

Snow fell on him, quickly covering him in white.