Chapter 71: Blood Guide, Antidote (Requesting First Subscription)

Chapter 071: Blood Guide, Detoxification (First Subscription Requested)

Leng Yiyun was so startled by Lu Xuexiang’s outburst that she thought she’d misheard. Did Xiang’er just yell at her? Before she could react, Lu Xuexiang went on, “All you ever care about is your elder sister. Why don’t you call her out to support you, then! Hmph!” She shook Leng Yiyun off with force, lifted her skirts, and ran away in tears.

“Xiang’er!” Leng Yiyun staggered inexplicably, nearly falling to the ground, but a passing maid caught her just in time. She stormed out of the courtyard, and as she was stepping over the threshold, she saw that infuriating face grinning at her.

“Sister, what’s wrong? Why do you look so aggrieved and resentful? If people didn’t know better, they’d think you’ve had a streak of rotten luck lately!” Madam Hu sneered with schadenfreude, “I saw the second young miss running away in tears just now—could it be that she’s really not the master’s blood, and the matron has found out?”

“Outrageous!” Leng Yiyun’s face burned with anger at Hu’s slanderous words. This rumor should have been quashed yesterday, but Hu was still spreading it just to humiliate her. Although the pretext was to embarrass her, if word got out, it would disgrace Lu Anrong most of all. How could the esteemed Prime Minister of Xianyue manage the nation if he couldn’t control his own household?

Hu hadn’t expected Leng Yiyun’s fury; she thought Yiyun would continue to endure in silence. Seeing the murderous look on her face, Hu felt a pang of fear.

“Madam Hu, if you continue to spread malicious rumors, I will ask the matron to judge this matter face to face. The matron will not tolerate such troublemaking and slander!” Leng Yiyun didn’t want to argue at Madam Xu’s door, so she issued a warning and turned away.

Hu stood there, face flushed, biting her lips as she watched Leng Yiyun’s receding figure. Even after being stripped of her authority as matron, she still dares act so arrogantly—she’ll make her pay for this...

“Hu Jiejie, let’s go back.” Madam Pan soothed, cradling Lu Juntao gently—her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

“Humph!” Hu snorted coldly, turned, and pinched Lu Xueming. Useless child—if only she were half as endearing as Lu Xueqing, Hu would have had her day in the sun by now.

The moment Hu’s party left, a young servant hurried over with an invitation from the second young miss of the Qin family, requesting Lu Xueqing’s presence for tea the next day. Madam Xu was delighted with the news—she’d been worrying about finding an excuse to visit the Qin residence.

When Anran entered the hall, having composed herself, Jun Moli had already finished two cups of tea. He sat quietly in his chair, with Liehuo and Jiaoyang standing behind him. The three of them, master and servants, formed a tranquil tableau, exuding an invisible and awe-inspiring presence.

Jun Moli wore a pale blue long robe today, cinched at the waist with a black belt from which hung a lustrous jade pendant. His flawless, delicate features were exquisitely carved, every line perfectly placed. Yet his brow was furrowed, his cheeks pale; despite his best efforts to conceal it, he radiated a sickly air.

Ever since that tomb adventure, Liehuo and Jiaoyang had developed sincere respect for Anran. Liehuo especially—so many terrifying, hideous shadow snakes, yet Anran had been as excited as if stargazing, while he’d had nightmares of snakes coiling around his neck for an entire night.

“Miss An!” The two greeted her as she entered, then returned to their silent posts behind Jun Moli.

Anran glanced at them, her dark, fathomless eyes finally settling on Jun Moli. “Prince Li, did you find the item?”

Her words made all three flush red, especially Jiaoyang, whose face turned as scarlet as if bleeding. Anran was puzzled by their embarrassment, studying them curiously before taking a seat opposite Jun Moli and signaling the maid to bring tea.

“Yes, I found it. I came here about that.” Jun Moli’s composure faltered slightly; his expression was awkward and he avoided Anran’s gaze, hastily lifting his cup for cover.

Liehuo and Jiaoyang were speechless, wishing they could escape. How could the young lady ask such a question so calmly, as if it were nothing?

“My lord, you’re out of tea.”

“Cough, cough...” As Anran took the tea from the maid, Jun Moli choked on the mouthful he hadn’t swallowed. Liehuo and Jiaoyang stared at their toes in silence. To think their immortal-like master could be choked by tea—if word got out, it would be laughable. Miss An indeed had a way with words.

“Forgive me, my lord—I’ll fetch another cup!” The maid, terrified, quickly replaced his tea and withdrew.

“You two needn’t just stand there. I’ve just created a new pastry—why not try it under the osmanthus tree?” Anran called for someone to lead Liehuo and Jiaoyang away. They knew she was sending them off, but were only too happy to leave; staying any longer, they certainly lacked their master’s composure to withstand Anran’s shocking remarks.

“Prince, it’s just the two of us now,” Anran reminded gently, sipping her tea.

“Hmm,” Jun Moli replied, taking another sip before asking, “This flower tea is very fragrant—orange blossom, goji, cassia seeds, longan flesh—and yet, it’s not at all bitter. What else did you add? The flavor is truly unique.”

Seeing he wasn’t getting to the point, Anran was in no hurry. “Just a touch of honey. These four herbs with honey clear the liver, brighten the eyes, and soothe the bowels.”

“A very special way to host a guest,” Jun Moli admitted. He’d never seen anyone serve such simple ingredients to a guest, yet had to agree that the honey transformed the ordinary into something remarkable.

“You’re the first guest I’ve received in fifteen years.”

In her life, apart from the relentless pursuit of vengeance, she’d never cared for social niceties. By day, she drank flower tea; by night, calming infusions—only thus could she sleep soundly, sparing herself the agony of loss night after night.

Anran’s words gave Jun Moli pause. How could she be so proud and aloof? He’d thought his own reclusiveness these past years was extreme, but she surpassed even him in her cold detachment.

In his eyes, Anran was like a winter plum, blooming fearlessly in the cold, standing apart from all other flowers, solitary and self-admiring. Only by feeling the chill of her distant manner could one sense the depth of her loneliness.

As Jun Moli looked up, Anran had already wrapped herself in another layer of defense, gone was the earlier ease with which she’d teased him. Her expression turned cool, her gaze distant and deep, an aura of unapproachability enveloping her.

“Prince, let’s get to business. I’m afraid you might collapse and not get back up,” Anran said with a hint of a smile. “Which of you three did it?”

She was genuinely curious who had seen the ‘medicine guide’s’ body and taken from her the most precious thing she possessed. Some mischievous part of her insisted it was Jun Moli...

Jun Moli shook his head slightly. This girl always hid warmth behind a cold front; her caring words sounded like a curse from her lips.

A curse—indeed, an apt description.

“Jiaoyang,” Jun Moli answered after two coughs, his eyes tinged with embarrassment.

No wonder Jiaoyang’s face was so red—he, the usually reserved one, had taken her innocence and collected the ‘maiden’s blood.’

In the world of poisons and venom, maiden’s blood was a prized medicine guide, able to both dispel and feed poison. Many sorceresses fought fiercely over high-quality blood guides, and in the borderlands between Xianyue and Nightmoon, newlyweds would even sell the blood guide the morning after their wedding.

However, not all blood guides could cure the poison afflicting Madam Qin. To dispel the Heart-Eating Gu, the blood guide needed to be from a girl born at a yin year, month, and hour, mixed with the gall of the King of Shadow Snakes and the blood of a Snowland Spirit Fox, to create the purest antidote.

Anran couldn’t help but be impressed by Jun Moli’s resourcefulness—he’d found the right person and obtained what was needed in just a day.

“I happened to come across her at the Qingyan Willow,” Jun Moli explained, seeing Anran’s suppressed laughter. He didn’t know what she was laughing at, but continued recounting the story.

Qingyan Willow was a famous courtesan boat on the moat—not a brothel, but home to girls forced by circumstances, most of whom survived by their artistic talents.

Anran nodded. If she was a songstress, Jiaoyang could pay her off without having to marry her.

“Prince, in light of your efficiency, I’ll give you some advice,” Anran said, her long lashes fluttering playfully, momentarily making Jun Moli lose his composure. What was wrong with him lately, that he was losing control?

“One, if you wish to live longer, avoid Nightmoon Bitter Tea. Two, keep a close eye on Prince Jing—next time you might not be so lucky.”

Jun Moli instantly composed himself, his face returning to its usual coldness, his eyes darkening with suppressed anger.

“Thank you for your advice, Miss An,” Jun Moli said, rising to leave. “Tomorrow, when you visit the Qin residence to detoxify Madam Qin, may I accompany you?”

“Of course—the entire Qin household owes you a favor,” Anran said with a cold smile. The poison to be extracted tomorrow would be put to good use.

Jun Moli pointed to a blue-and-white porcelain bottle on the table, bid farewell, and left in haste, Liehuo and Jiaoyang quickly following, puzzled by their master’s urgency.

Anran walked over, picked up the bottle with pale, slender fingers, and smiled. On the breeze came Jun Moli’s casual words: “Prince Jing’s residence.”

The next morning, Anran rose early, tidied herself, and took Snowball to the dispensary.

This dispensary had been built by An Yue to her specifications; aside from a ten-square-meter clearing in the center, the walls were lined with uneven wooden cubbies, each secured by fine iron mesh doors. A glance revealed a multitude of living creatures with gleaming eyes, emitting all manner of rustling sounds.

As Anran opened the door, light flooded in, making those eyes gleam brighter and increasing the sounds of feeding.

Snowball rolled his chubby body around, paws pressed to the mesh, gazing delightedly at the creatures within.

Everything Anran kept here was poisonous—scorpions, centipedes, snakes, spiders, and toads—each specimen large and varied, fed with specially formulated food to make their venom many times more potent than usual.

She fed them as usual, plucking a fat, black centipede into a bamboo tube and fastening it at her waist. Then she placed a poisonous toad on the little fox’s head. The toad’s sac bulged, its bumpy body and clear, bright eyes perched atop Snowball’s fluffy fur, croaking contentedly.

Retrieving the antidote she’d prepared overnight, Anran set off with Snowball.

When she reached the Qin residence, Jun Moli and his attendants were already waiting at the gate. He looked even paler than the day before.

“Prince Li, you’re here early,” Anran greeted him with a smile.

Jun Moli was stunned—he rarely saw Anran smile so radiantly. Liehuo and Jiaoyang, too, were surprised; they’d thought her incapable of smiling given her usual frosty demeanor. Liehuo glanced between Anran and Jiaoyang—both always wore cold expressions, and there was a resemblance.

“You can smile...”

“Only the dead don’t smile,” Anran retorted coldly, wiping the smile from her face. Spotting the ugly, warty toad, Liehuo instantly behaved himself—this girl was not to be trifled with.

Jun Moli watched as the little fox bristled instantly, shaking his head slightly. She was far too young for such defenses—yet if not this, then what?

“I saw the hour was right, so I came over, just arrived,” Jun Moli lied smoothly—he’d actually come an hour early for fear of missing her.

Liehuo and Jiaoyang glanced at each other, gazing skyward in feigned ignorance.

“Shall we? Let’s not keep Lord Qin waiting.”

Qin Ruoyang, having learned Anran would visit to detoxify his mother, had taken leave from court to await her at home.

When the young servant spotted Anran, he raced inside to announce her. Now, Anran’s status at the Qin residence was very different from when Qin Fu was the steward—she was now an honored guest.

“Miss, please.”

Jun Moli discreetly glanced at the little fox in Anran’s arms, marveling at how it could sleep so sweetly with such a large venomous toad on its head.

When Qin Ruoyang came to greet them, he was momentarily taken aback to see Jun Moli but quickly recovered. “Greetings, Prince Li! Forgive me for not coming sooner.”

“No need for ceremony—I happened to meet Miss An on my walk, so I joined her,” Jun Moli replied.

Anran inwardly scoffed at their formalities—officials were truly adept at saying whatever suited the occasion.

After exchanging pleasantries, Qin Ruoyang turned to Anran, his smile as warm as spring, radiating kindness.

“Thank you, Miss An.”

Anran met his gaze calmly, neither ingratiating nor distant, her voice as placid as still water. “Those thanks should go to Prince Li.”

Jun Moli shook his head—this girl was always settling accounts, determined to draw a clear line between them, not realizing she’d already repaid more than she owed.

Qin Ruoyang was momentarily puzzled, but his smile didn’t fade as he glanced at Jun Moli and then at Anran. “Miss An, this way, please.”

Though he didn’t understand her meaning, he knew Anran was helping his mother for Jun Moli’s sake, and that they knew each other already. Was there some hidden connection between them?

Anran let Jun Moli go ahead and deliberately fell behind. Just as she rounded the gate, she heard the porter announce, “Miss Lu has arrived!”

A glimmer of calculation flashed in her dark eyes—Lu Xueqing at the Qin residence? How fortuitous. Today would be most interesting.

They followed Qin Ruoyang into Madam Qin’s courtyard. The garden was no longer filled with blossoming flowers, just a carpet of soft grass and clusters of baby’s breath by the walls—tiny golden flowers, unassuming yet beautiful.

Madam Qin had risen early to wait for Anran, hopeful since learning there was a cure for her illness. She always felt at ease with Anran, trusting her for reasons she couldn’t explain. She believed Anran could help her live another two months, enough to prevent Qin Wei from sending Qin Ruoyan to the palace to trouble Xier.

Anran had no wish to join their household struggles, but since she’d promised Jun Moli to do her best, she would cure Madam Qin. Afterward, she wanted nothing more to do with the Qin family.

Were it not for her weakness and dizziness, Madam Qin would have greeted Anran at the gate herself. When her maid informed her that Prince Li had come with Anran, and that her son had welcomed them in, she grew even more pleased.

“Miss, thank you for your trouble,” Madam Qin said with a smile, bowing to Jun Moli as well.

The more she saw of this girl, the more she approved—cold in temperament but not arrogant, she’d make a good match for her eldest son.

She beckoned Anran over, and not wishing to refuse, Anran handed Snowball to Liehuo and approached to take Madam Qin’s pulse.

Liehuo nearly wept—he’d thought the snakes were bad enough; toads were worse. How hideous!

“Madam, I’ve got the medicine and can begin detoxifying you now,” Anran said softly, patting her hand. “But I’ll need someone to assist—a close attendant. I think Second Miss will have to help.”

She gave Madam Qin a meaningful look. Madam Qin was curious, but Anran’s eyes were serious, not joking.

What odd reasoning.

Qin Ruoyang wanted to speak, but Madam Qin interrupted, “Ting’er has an appointment with a friend today—I wonder if her friend has arrived yet? Heye, go check on Second Miss.”

She trusted Anran, believing she wouldn’t go through such trouble for no reason.

Heye obeyed, heading for Qin Ruoting’s rooms. Jun Moli, with nothing to do, was called away by Madam Qin, who asked her son to entertain Prince Li. They hadn’t played chess together in ages.

Qin Ruoting soon arrived, with Lu Xueqing in tow. Lu Xueqing was shocked to see Anran. Qin Ruoting had asked her to wait, but she was determined to seize the chance to pay her respects to Madam Qin, remembering Madam Xu’s advice to repair the relationship between the two families. But why was Anran here? A sense of unease prickled at her, though she couldn’t say why.

“Snowqing greets Madam Qin!” Lu Xueqing quickly regained her composure and bowed, but Madam Qin’s manner turned cold. “It’s Miss Lu. Forgive our poor hospitality.”

Ever since Leng Yiyun had meddled in the Qin household, Madam Qin had grown wary of the Lu family. Though Lu Xueqing was Qin Ruoting’s close friend and had an excellent reputation in Yue City, Madam Qin had once considered seeking a match for her son if Xueqing didn’t enter the palace after the selection.

But with Leng Yiyun’s reckless disregard for human life, her fondness for Lu Xueqing had greatly diminished. Though Qin Ruoyang had suppressed the incident and not told Consort Zhen, Madam Qin would never propose now.

“Madam, you’re too kind. Ting’er and I are always close—there could never be ill-feeling between us.” Lu Xueqing then added, “Madam, you look so much better than when I last saw you. You’ll surely recover soon!”

Though intended as flattery, her words made Madam Qin wish she could slap her out. Nonsense—she was near death and Xueqing claimed she looked better? Was she cursing her?

“Mother, did you call me because your illness can be cured?” Qin Ruoting asked with delight. Slightly plump, she had fair skin, an oval face, willow brows, petite nose and mouth—a beauty in her own right.

Madam Qin’s expression softened. She glanced around and instructed, “All but Heye and Qiuxiang, wait outside.”

“Yes, Madam!” The maids withdrew. Lu Xueqing hesitated.

“Miss Lu...”

“Miss Lu must want to stay and help, isn’t that so?” Anran interjected, a knowing look in her eyes.

She knew full well Lu Xueqing’s real motive—ostensibly to visit Qin Ruoting, but really to mend ties with Madam Qin. Since their goals aligned, Anran was happy to let her stay, for her own purposes.

“Indeed, I’d be glad to help in any way I can,” Lu Xueqing replied, not knowing Anran’s reasons but willing to accept any opportunity.

Madam Qin, seeing Anran’s acquiescence and Lu Xueqing’s insistence, nodded. “Then Miss Lu may take tea outside.”

“Ting’er, you and Miss An, come in with me.” She gestured for Qiuxiang to support her as she headed for the inner room.

Anran retrieved Snowball from Liehuo, followed them in, and as she crossed the threshold, she lightly bumped into Qin Ruoting.

“Forgive me, Second Miss,” Anran apologized at once. Qin Ruoting was about to reply, when she caught sight of the hideous toad in Anran’s arms and promptly fainted.

The toad croaked twice in protest—was it really so ugly? The little fox liked it well enough.

With Qin Ruoting unconscious, who would assist Anran? As Heye was about to fetch another young lady, Lu Xueqing interjected, “Don’t bother, Heye. We can’t afford to lose time. Ting’er and I are like sisters. If Madam Qin doesn’t mind, I’ll stand in for her.”

Madam Qin, lying on the bed, was taken aback—Lu Xueqing was willing to serve as attendant?

In Xianyue, Emperor Jun Dingyue highly promoted filial piety; whether noble or common, children were expected to serve ill elders at home, which was why Qin Ruoyang could always be excused from court.

With her own daughter fainted, and the prime minister’s daughter volunteering, Madam Qin was deeply moved, reconsidering her opinion of Lu Xueqing—perhaps she’d misjudged her.

“Thank you, Miss Lu,” Anran said with a cold smile, glancing at Lu Xueqing before going to prepare the medicine guide.

Lu Xueqing, since you’re so eager to help, I’ll grant your wish—but you’ll soon have reason to weep.

Anran placed Snowball on the table, took out a blue-and-white porcelain bowl and a snakeskin pouch from her bamboo chest. She carefully poured a blood-tinged serum from the pouch into the bowl—a mixture of blood and snake gall—filling the room with a metallic stench.

“Miss Lu, come hold this. Whatever you do, don’t spill it! Otherwise, the gall of the King of Shadow Snakes—retrieved at great risk from the ancient tomb by Prince Li and myself—will be wasted!” Anran beckoned Lu Xueqing, smiling as she explained.

The smell made Lu Xueqing’s nerves taut, her face pale, stomach churning. One look into the bowl and she felt violently ill.

“What? That’s... snake gall from a tomb...?” The thought of those cold, wriggling snakes with their flickering tongues made her scalp tingle.

Anran relished her discomfort, then donned silk gloves, drew her black iron dagger, seized the poisonous toad from the fox’s head, and stabbed it straight through the heart. Blood splattered across Lu Xueqing’s face.

The toad struggled, then went limp as the blood drained away.

“Aaah!” Lu Xueqing shrieked, frantically wiping her face, only making herself look more bedraggled and bloodstained.

Heye and Qiuju exchanged glances—she’d insisted on staying to help, but now looked nothing like the poised young lady of reputation. Qiuju, disliking her but mindful of her status, called for a maid to bring water.

Anran extracted the toad’s bitter gall, had Heye bring water to dissolve it in a bowl, then handed it to Madam Qin. “Don’t be afraid, Madam. Just close your eyes. I’ll seal your acupoints with gold needles so you won’t feel pain.”

Madam Qin smiled, drank the bitter liquid, lay down, and said softly, “I trust you.”

The toad, bred for its potent venom, had bile to catalyze the poison in Madam Qin’s body. With Anran’s needles, the gu worms would gather in one place.

Anran sealed several acupoints with swift, precise gold needles. Madam Qin soon felt something squirming inside her, her body heating up, and her left arm swelling visibly, with the shadow of millet-grain shapes appearing beneath the skin.

Heye and Qiuju watched in awe, mouths agape.

Madam Qin, curious, opened her eyes to see Anran deftly inserting a long, slender needle into her wrist.

“Miss Lu, bring the bowl,” Anran called, knowing full well Lu Xueqing was desperate to be rid of it but had no choice but to comply.

Having tidied herself somewhat, Lu Xueqing glared at Anran, steadied her nerves, and approached with the bowl, trying not to breathe in the stench.

She was remarkably self-controlled, managing a stiff but proper smile despite her disgust.

“Kneel down and hold it steady,” Anran said as if to a servant. “Don’t let your hands shake, Miss Lu!”

Lu Xueqing’s expression twisted. She glared at Anran when her back was turned—how much longer would this torment continue?

Ignoring her resentment, Anran took the bamboo tube from her waist, eyes gleaming, and with a flick of her wrist, dropped the black centipede into the bowl, where it thrashed about in the liquid.

Lu Xueqing, up close, saw the centipede’s many legs magnified, and her face went from pale to deathly white, nearly dropping the bowl.

Anran quickly steadied her hand. “Miss Lu, you’d better hold tight. This liquid contains not only the King of Shadow Snakes’ gall, but rare herbs, Snowland Spirit Fox blood, and most importantly, maiden’s blood as a guide. And not just any maiden’s blood—it must come from a girl born on a yin year, month, and hour. Miss Lu, if you spill it, you’ll have to use your own. Even if you agree, there’s no more shadow snake gall available for another year. If anything happens to Madam Qin, how will you answer to Consort Zhen?”

Maiden’s blood? How repulsive! And Anran spoke of it as casually as the weather.

But what shocked Lu Xueqing most was how Anran knew her birthdate and hour.

Consort Zhen? The image of the regal, beautiful consort floated before her eyes. Though never formally made empress, she wielded all power in the harem.

If Madam Qin died, she’d never be able to answer to Consort Zhen. No matter how her hands trembled, Lu Xueqing dared not risk spilling a drop. Glancing up at Anran, she felt icy dread—Anran’s hands seemed like ancient frost, chilling her to the bone.

Anran withdrew her hand, took Madam Qin’s, and saw that her nails were even darker than before. She sterilized her dagger in the flame, waited for it to blacken slightly, then sliced a one-inch wound into Madam Qin’s wrist.

Instead of blood, a green fluid dripped into Lu Xueqing’s bowl, mixing with the antidote. As the blood continued to drip, Madam Qin’s swollen arm shrank before their eyes, and her amazement grew.

Curious, she peeked into the bowl—and collapsed in horror, vomiting violently.

The bowl now teemed with writhing white larvae amidst the bile, centipede, and fox blood. As more blood fell, more worms dropped in, until the blood’s color shifted from green to pink to red to dark red.

Raised in seclusion, Lu Xueqing had never seen such horrors. The bloody, bile-filled liquid was bad enough, but worse was the toad’s blood splashing her face, the mention of maiden’s blood, the sight of the centipede—and above all, the worms emerging from Madam Qin’s body.

The centipede writhed in agony, churning the greenish liquid, legs flailing as the worms crawled onto it, swarming and devouring it until nothing remained.

Lu Xueqing’s pupils dilated in terror. She stared blankly at the bowl, then began trembling uncontrollably and retched again, barely able to keep hold of the bowl.

“Miss Lu, hold steady now. If even one worm sticks to your fair, delicate hand, your skin will rot away, and the worms will multiply, eventually eating your organs and ending your life,” Anran whispered coldly in her ear.

Lu Xueqing shuddered violently, unable to stop vomiting, yet her hands remained rigidly steady.

Anran smiled coldly, took out hemostatic powder and sprinkled it over Madam Qin’s wrist, then cleaned the wound with medicinal wine and bandaged it.

Madam Qin’s nails regained their rosy hue, her arm returned to normal, and the shadows faded from her skin—the poison had been purged.

“Madam, once I remove the needles, you’ll be fine,” Anran said gently. Madam Qin, pale and wide-eyed, was speechless.

She’d only wanted to see what was inside her, not expecting such nauseating worms to emerge. Had they grown larger, they’d have been no different from maggots. After her death, these worms would have devoured her from within—those who plotted this were truly vicious.

“Madam!” Anran called again, and Madam Qin snapped out of her daze, still shaken.

“I’m going to remove the needles now, but the anesthetic has worn off—it may hurt.”

Madam Qin nodded and closed her eyes, utterly spent.

Anran removed each needle slowly. With every one, Madam Qin’s brow furrowed, her face twitching as she endured the pain—as if her bones were being scraped.

Heye and Qiuju, blocked by Anran, couldn’t see what was in Lu Xueqing’s bowl, but saw her vomiting up bile and Anran ignoring her. Without orders from Madam Qin, they exchanged glances and bowed their heads.

Meanwhile, a maid at the door, catching a glimpse of the sickening scene, rushed out, hand over her mouth.

Having removed the last needle, Anran packed them away and turned to Lu Xueqing. “Miss Lu, you’re feeling unwell? Do you need me to check your pulse?”

“No need!” Lu Xueqing, disheveled and pale, had no more fight left in her.

But Anran wasn’t about to let her off so easily. “Miss Lu, you seem quite ill—let me have a look.”

Lu Xueqing had never imagined Anran could be both ruthless and so shameless, playing the innocent after everything she’d done.

She raised her voice, “I’m not ill—I don’t need your treatment!”

Her repeated refusals only made others suspect she was afraid of Anran’s diagnosis, fueling gossip.

Anran was satisfied, putting on an innocent face as she asked Heye and Qiuxiang, “Do either of you feel nauseous?”

They shook their heads in confusion—the smell of blood wasn’t enough to make them retch.

“Oh, perhaps Miss Lu’s constitution is simply different,” Anran remarked, taking the bowl from her and leaving the room. Lu Xueqing’s wretched state was clear for all to see, her dignity long gone.

Outside, Qin Ruoting regained consciousness. Anran smiled at her and gestured toward the bedroom. Qin Ruoting, still groggy, nodded and went in.

“Xueqing!” She was alarmed to see Lu Xueqing collapsed and filthy, hastening to help her up.

“Ugh—” Lu Xueqing couldn’t stop retching, convinced she’d never be rid of the nausea. Heye and Qiuxiang exchanged glances—could it be that Miss Lu was... expecting?

“Xueqing!” Qin Ruoting called again, glancing at her mother, who was now peacefully asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief as she led Lu Xueqing out.

P.S. It’s the end of the month—don’t let your monthly votes expire, toss them to the Rabbit!