Chapter 8: Poisonous Zephyr

Xiulan strode down the corridor toward her quarters, each step lighter than before. Mei Chen practically bounced beside her.

“This is wonderful news, Miss Xiulan! Your wardrobe needs attention, and now we can restore your collection of—“

“Let’s not rush to spend everything.” Xiulan pinched the bridge of her nose. If I’d waited one more day, I could have bought the ingredients without owing that favor to Master Qingfeng.

But maybe this was fine, too. Even if she owed a favor—that was a connection. Treasure Pavilion was ubiquitous and having access to them would be critical for just about any pursuit she followed.

A familiar figure appeared ahead in the corridor. Zhang Wei shuffled along, keeping his head down. Xiulan rushed forward, her heart racing as she spotted the purple-yellow marks on his face.

“Who did this?” Xiulan gripped his shoulders, examining the bruises.

“It’s nothing.” Zhang Wei attempted a weak laugh. “Just got hurt a little.”

The forced cheerfulness in his voice made her stomach twist. Madam Zhang. Or the sisters. They’re taking their anger out on him.

Xiulan pressed her fingers to her forehead, exhaling slowly. “You should spend time in my courtyard, Little Brother. Come visit your older sister more often.”

“But aren’t we returning to Lin Manor soon?” Zhang Wei kicked at the floor. “The festival’s over...”

“We’ll be departing in a few days,” Mei Chen said quietly.

The unspoken truth hung heavy. Back at the manor meant Xiulan’s return to the servant quarters, away from her current comfortable chambers.

One problem at a time. Xiulan squeezed Zhang Wei’s shoulder. “Don’t hesitate to come to me if you need help, understand?”

She turned to Mei Chen. “Is it time for lunch? I’m famished.” She turned a smile toward Zhang Wei. “Would you like to eat with me, little brother?”

Zhang Wei bounced on his heels. “Yes! Can we eat in your room?”

Xiulan led them to her quarters where servants bustled about, already setting a low table with gleaming dishes and cutlery. Mei Chen worked methodically in the corner, organizing empty jewelry boxes into neat stacks.

“And then the fire-breathers shot flames so high!” Zhang Wei sprawled on a cushion, gesturing wildly. “The crowd went wild when they made dragon shapes!”

Xiulan smiled as he gave her a very in-depth version of the festival day.

The aroma of braised duck and ginger filled the room as servants carried in dishes. Steam rose from bowls of fragrant rice and vegetables in oyster sauce. This is different. According to her memories, meals usually comprised plain rice and simple vegetables.

Mei Chen beamed at the spread while maintaining a respectful distance. The joy in her eyes sparked an idea in Xiulan’s mind.

“Mei Chen, join us.”

“Miss Xiulan!” Mei Chen’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t possibly—“

“Sister’s right!” Zhang Wei patted the cushion beside him. “There’s plenty!”

The other servants stiffened, exchanging disapproving glances as they arranged the last dishes.

“Please.” Xiulan gestured to the cushion. “I insist.”

Zhang Wei reached for a piece of duck, but Xiulan caught his wrist. He blinked at her in confusion.

Xiulan pulled her silver poison sensing needle from her sleeve. The polished metal caught the light streaming through the open windows.

“What’s that?” Zhang Wei leaned forward, squinting at the thin implement.

“Just a precaution.” Xiulan dipped the needle into the duck first, watching for any reaction. The silver remained bright and untarnished. She moved methodically through each dish—the vegetables, the rice, the sauce. The needle stayed pristine through each test.

The soup broth remained. Steam curled invitingly from the ceramic bowl as Xiulan lowered the needle. The moment it touched the liquid, black smoke coiled up from the silver surface. The metal darkened to an oily sheen.

Mei Chen clapped both hands over her mouth. “Miss Xiulan!”

“What happened to it?” Zhang Wei reached toward the needle, but Xiulan pulled it away.

“This meal is poisoned.” Xiulan’s words cut through the room like a blade.

The servants froze mid-motion—one still holding a water pitcher, another adjusting place settings. Their faces drained of color.

Really? Xiulan pinched the bridge of her nose. I just left Father’s hall. They couldn’t even wait a full day before trying to kill me again?

Xiulan stood in one fluid motion. “Mei Chen, inform Father immediately.”

“You—“ She pointed at a servant near the door. “Fetch Physician Jin Wei.”

The servants shifted nervously as Xiulan planted herself between them and the evidence. No tampering allowed.

Rapid footsteps echoed through the corridor minutes later. Lord Lin burst into the room, his face flushed red and eyes wide with panic. His gaze darted past Xiulan, landing squarely on Zhang Wei.

“What’s happened to my son?” he demanded, his voice trembling beneath the harshness.

Xiulan bowed deeply. “Honorable Father—”

“Enough! Speak plainly,” Lord Lin interrupted, his words a command more than a question, his eyes never leaving Zhang Wei. “Why was he brought here?”

Xiulan straightened, her voice steady. “The soup was poisoned.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The air seemed to freeze between them. Lord Lin’s expression shifted from anger to fear, his face pale as he turned his gaze to Zhang Wei.

She could tell exactly what he was thinking and it… hurt. His second son had been put at risk.

“And how exactly would you know this?” Lord Lin’s eyes narrowed at her.

Before Xiulan could respond, Jin Wei swept into the room. His robes rustled as he offered a quick bow.

“Examine this soup.” Lord Lin jabbed a finger toward the steaming bowl. “My daughter claims it’s poisoned.”

There it is. Xiulan suppressed an eye roll. Heaven forbid he take my word for it or let me explain. At least this saved her from revealing the silver needle tucked safely in her sleeve.

Jin Wei lifted the bowl, swirling the liquid beneath his nose. He dipped a finger into the broth and touched it to his tongue. After a moment, he lowered the bowl and bowed to Lord Lin.

“My lord, the soup contains a powerful emetic. While not immediately lethal, it would cause severe illness lasting several days.”

Lord Lin whirled toward the servants. “Who prepared this meal?”

The servants huddled together, heads bowed. Xiulan gripped Zhang Wei’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Mei Chen pressed against her side, trembling.

“Speak!” Lord Lin’s roar echoed off the walls.

A young servant dropped to her knees. “This lowly one helped prepare the soup, my lord.”

“And?” Lord Lin loomed over her.

“Second Miss... Second Miss Lin Fei gave me a packet.” The servant pressed her forehead to the floor. “She said it would help Miss Xiulan’s digestion after her injuries.”

Of course she did. Xiulan tightened her grip on Zhang Wei’s shoulders.

“Guards!” Lord Lin’s face darkened to purple. “Take this wretch to the courtyard and give her fifty lashes!”

The servant wailed as guards dragged her away. Zhang Wei flinched beneath Xiulan’s hands. Xiulan bit her lip. That was almost certainly a death sentence.

Xiulan swallowed hard. “Father?”

“What is it?” Lord Lin snapped.

“This daughter requests permission to return to Lin Manor early, along with Brother Wei.” Xiulan kept her tone steady despite the churning in her stomach.

Lord Lin rubbed his temples. “Yes, yes, that is a good idea. Things have been too chaotic. That could restore balance.”

----------------------------------------

The carriage rocked gently as Xiulan settled onto the cushioned seat. Fresh straw crackled beneath the wheels while servants loaded the supply wagon behind them. Through the open window, the spring breeze carried hints of wood smoke and spices from the city’s cooking fires.

“And then we can practice calligraphy together!” Zhang Wei bounced on his seat across from her. “Sister Xiulan always has the best brushstrokes. Don’t you think so, Mei Chen?”

“Young Master speaks true.” Mei Chen sat primly beside Xiulan, smoothing her simple gray dress. “Miss Xiulan’s characters flow like silk.”

A genuine smile tugged at Xiulan’s lips as she watched the preparations through the window. The sound of marching boots drew her attention to Captain Bai Chen approaching the carriage in his polished armor.

“Honored Second Daughter.” Bai Chen bowed crisply. “I regret I cannot escort you personally, but twenty of our finest guards will ensure your safety.”

Xiulan leaned forward. “Tell me, Captain, will they truly keep us safe? Sometimes the greatest dangers are not those that lurk outside.”

Bai Chen straightened, muscles tensing beneath his armor. He pressed his fist to his chest in a formal salute. “I selected each guard myself. Their loyalty lies with the Lin Family above all else. You have my word.”

Loyalty means little if Madam Zhang’s silver means more. Xiulan inclined her head. “Thank you for your diligence, Captain.”

The city streets parted before their procession like water around stones. Merchants paused their haggling, children stopped their games, all bowing as the Lin family carriage passed. The gates loomed ahead, iron-bound wood groaning as they swung wide.

Beyond the walls, the countryside sprawled in spring’s glory.

“The manor has the best view of the valley.” Zhang Wei pressed against the window. “From the east tower, you can see all the way to—“

Xiulan half-listened to her brother’s excited chatter, studying the terrain instead. The game never showed this route in detail. Her ride through it days prior had been done in an injured haze. She idly traced the concealed dagger in her sleeve.

The sun traced lazy arcs across the sky as their carriage rolled steadily onward. Xiulan calculated the distance in her mind—a day’s journey at minimum, likely stretching into tomorrow. They’d need to make camp tonight, just as they had on their initial journey to Blackmere.

The thought of their previous travel sparked suspicion in her mind. The timing of their carriage accident seemed too convenient. Madam Zhang or those vipers she calls daughters must have had something to do with it. But proof was in short supply, especially since someone had ordered the wreckage burned rather than salvaged.

Destroying evidence of tampering, perhaps? The driver’s death eliminated one witness, though Xiulan wondered if his demise had truly been accidental. A dead man couldn’t reveal who had paid him to sabotage the carriage.

Although the bloody memory of the man dangling in the branches was enough to reconsider that. Maybe she was just grasping at straws.

The entire situation was a convoluted mess. A deep sigh escaped her lips before she could catch it.

“Miss Xiulan?” Mei Chen leaned forward. “Are you unwell?”

“Just tired.” Xiulan massaged her temples. “Recent events have given me much to consider.”

“Those monsters deserved everything you gave them!” Zhang Wei punched the air triumphantly.

Xiulan shot him a sharp look. “Careful with such words, little brother. The wrong ears could bring dire consequences.”

Zhang Wei deflated slightly, but squared his shoulders. “I’ll be more careful. But I want to help fight too!”

“I know you will.” Xiulan reached across to ruffle his dark hair.

“Sister!” Zhang Wei ducked away from her hand. “Stop that!”

The carriage wheels crunched along the mountain path as they ascended through dense forest. Xiulan traced the familiar route in her mind—a plateau waited at the summit, followed by more woodland and a meandering stream that would guide them home. The Lin Manor sprawled across the mountainside like a small city, with grand pavilions for Lord Lin, Madam Zhang, and Lin Jin dominating the grounds.

Everyone has their own space except me. Xiulan drummed her fingers against the window frame.

Her sisters’ private courtyards, the countless guest halls, even the army of servants with their designated quarters filled the compound. Mother’s tiny, neglected courtyard tucked away in a corner sparked a fresh wave of indignation. Even Zhang Wei claimed more space than Xiulan did.

That needs to change immediately. Privacy would be essential for her plans.

“Halt!” A shout pierced the afternoon quiet. The carriage lurched to a stop.

“What’s happening?” Mei Chen gripped the seat cushion.

“Bandits?” Zhang Wei pressed his face against the window. “Will the guards fight them? I want to see—“

“Sit down.” Xiulan pulled him back by his collar and peered outside.

A cluster of ragged men blocked the road ahead while Lin guards advanced with hands on their weapons. Dirt and desperation caked the strangers’ faces as they refused to move.