The Empire of Kok, the ruler of the continent’s largest domain—
Through countless wars, the empire brought an end to a millennium of strife and established peace.
However, the emperor who achieved supremacy imposed a tyrannical rule.
The people starved, and storms of blood raged through the court.
Outraged by injustice, the emperor’s elder half-brother initiated a revolution, executed the tyrant, and ascended the throne as the new emperor, finally bringing what should have been true peace.
But after the former emperor’s death, a new calamity befell the empire.
It was the scourge of the “Earth’s Poison.”
Starting in autumn, the curse of the Earth’s Poison persisted into spring, showing no signs of abating. It rotted vegetation in the countryside and afflicted livestock.
Famine caused food prices to soar, and the effects of the Earth’s Poison were immeasurable. The people of the capital, too, lived in constant fear, wondering when the “Poison Epidemic” might strike them.
To the east of the imperial capital lay the palace.
With approximately 80,000 inhabitants, including members of the royal family, officials, and court attendants, the palace was so vast that it was often referred to as a “small city.”
Within the palace was a particularly opulent area—the harem.
The harem was divided into four palaces: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, each presided over by a “Seasonal Consort” ranked just below the empress. Including the Seasonal Consorts, about 150 consorts and concubines resided in the harem, along with 400 court ladies and eunuchs.
Though not an exceptionally large number for the scale of the palace, the harem had grown dramatically more vibrant in the six months since the new emperor’s accession.
Not only were the most beautiful women meticulously selected, but every aspect, from gardens to interior furnishings, was adorned in unparalleled luxury. It was a radiant palace of splendor, created by the emperor for the emperor.
Yet, the curse of the Earth’s Poison crept steadily into the harem, despite its supposed protection by feng shui.
The scene resembled a sea of silk.
In a chamber strewn with discarded robes and sashes, a large tub filled with water stood. A concubine, clad only in a thin, soaked robe, slumped listlessly in the water.
Her name was Fuxiang.
She held the rank of Meiren, a fourth-grade noble title. As the daughter of a wealthy merchant family dealing in silk, her room’s lavish decorations reflected her accustomed opulence. The scattered silk and brocade fabrics in her chamber were items that commoners could only dream of affording after years of labor.
Yet, despite her wealth and fine garments, Consort Fuxiang was so weakened that she could no longer dress herself properly.
Her disheveled hair clung to her damp face, her vacant eyes devoid of vitality. Occasionally, her lips moved faintly like a goldfish, but no sound emerged. The wet robe clinging to her revealed her pale skin beneath.
On her back, bluish marks resembling bruises began to surface.
Scales.
Glossy, azure scales covered her skin.
Fuxiang’s mother appealed desperately to the royal physician.
“One morning, she suddenly couldn’t move her legs. All she asked for was to soak in water, and since then, she hasn’t spoken… The court doctors only shake their heads. What is happening to my daughter?”
The royal physician, Feiling, concluded her examination.
“What afflicts Lady Fuxiang is the ‘Water’s Poison.’”
Feiling was a mere 15 years old, yet she held the position of Royal Food Physician in the harem.
Though this title carried its controversies.
Because of her past, only a select few sought her medical expertise. Fuxiang’s mother, too, would never have turned to Feiling if not for the complete failure of the court physicians.
“Is it… the Poison Epidemic?”
Fuxiang’s mother turned pale, trembling. It was no wonder.
Lately, not a day goes by without hearing rumors of the Poison Epidemic, even within the secluded harem.
The Poison Epidemic cannot be alleviated by any medicine, nor can even the most skilled physicians treat it.
“Indeed. Judging by her unusual thirst for water, one might consider the Poison of Wood or the Poison of Fire. However, if it were the Poison of Wood, there would be signs of dryness, and if it were the Poison of Fire, there would be high fever. Lady Fuxiang exhibits neither of these symptoms. Instead, the stagnation in her lower limbs and the water-induced abnormalities point unmistakably to the Poison of Water.”
“How could this have happened to my daughter?”
Feiling chose to remain silent but immediately recognized it as the Poison of Water upon seeing the state of the chamber.
(This room is a disaster. And the stench of mildew is overwhelming. For a young lady of such standing, to not even tidy up her room is ridiculous. And what of the attendants who were supposed to clean this place?)
Mildew is the mortal enemy of silk. After being worn, robes absorb sweat and must be hung on racks to air out. Yet here, they had been carelessly crumpled and tossed aside.
Breathing in the mildew for so long had caused her to be afflicted by the stagnant Poison of Water.
“I will immediately prepare a remedy for the Poison of Water.”
Feiling left the room and headed to the kitchen, where she retrieved an earthen pot heated over the stove.
“Please, take this.”
She removed the lid, releasing a gentle aroma of vinegar alongside the steam.
“Is this… medicine? It looks like porridge.”
Porridge wasn’t far off the mark.
Daily meals form the foundation of health, and the continent has long embraced the philosophy of “food and medicine share the same origin.”
Just as there are five types of poison, there are also five types of medicine—Water, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Wood. The same applies to food ingredients.
(For the Poison of Water, remedies typically involve Earth-based medicines, which absorb and block water. However, Lady Fuxiang’s condition is Earth over Water, meaning the Earth is excessively absorbing water. What’s needed instead is Wood medicine to regulate the cycle between Water and Earth.)
Ingredients like Sichuan peppercorns, yuzu, apples, and vinegar fall under Wood medicine. This porridge, made with apple cider vinegar and other Wood-based ingredients, was finished with chili oil for a warming, spicy touch, resembling suan la tang (sour and spicy soup).
It was, in essence, a medicinal dish.
(And I’ve included one more extraordinary ingredient…)
Fuxiang’s mother swallowed nervously, took the spoon with trembling fingers, and brought it to her daughter.
Though Fuxiang’s expression showed her lack of appetite, the aroma seemed to draw her in. She opened her lips.
She sipped the warm porridge.
“Ah…!”
In an instant, Lady Fuxiang’s eyes widened. Then, tears began to flow uncontrollably.
Since being afflicted by the poison, she had experienced constant, insatiable thirst—neither drinking nor soaking in water could quench it.
But this, this was what her body had truly craved.
The overflowing tears spoke volumes of her deep relief.
“Delicious… more…”
“You… you can speak!”
Her mother, overjoyed, offered more porridge, but Feiling interjected with advice.
“Be cautious of the bones left at the bottom of the dish. Please set them aside before consuming the porridge.”
Her mother nodded and examined the contents.
“Oh, is this a chicken neck?”
“Something like that,” Feiling replied.
(In truth, it’s the head of a viper caught this morning. But words can bring disaster—some things are better left unsaid.)
Feiling remembered a previous case where revealing the truth caused the patient to vomit profusely. It’s best not to risk ruining the appetite now.
Fuxiang continued spooning the porridge, one bite after another. In the tub of water, her scales began to detach and float, forming patterns like scattered blue lotus petals.
Fuxiang slowly stood up, stepping out of the tub. Droplets fell from her wet hair and robe, but the “sea of silk” remained unperturbed. Standing on the brocade sash beneath her, she smiled.
“Ah, Mother… I can breathe. I can walk.”
Ignoring the dampness, her mother embraced Fuxiang tightly.
“It’s a miracle!”
Her mother’s awestruck words drew a nod from Feiling.
“Indeed. Medicine possesses the miraculous power to bring about wonders. However, medicine is not a gift from the gods—it is the crystallized wisdom of our ancestors. I am merely a humble inheritor of that knowledge.”
Her profound words carried a weight unexpected from someone who had just turned fifteen.
“Who… who are you?”
Feiling smiled softly and lowered her lashes modestly. The peacock-shaped hairpin in her hair let out a faint chime.
“I am but a simple food physician.”
And yet, she added:
“I shall eliminate any poison and transform it into medicine.”
Lady Fuxiang’s mother was deeply moved.
But then it happened—Lady Fuxiang let out a scream.
“No! Mother, look at this!”
She had seen the snake’s head submerged at the bottom of the pot. Her scream rang out, echoed by her mother’s horrified cry.
“So it’s true—the infamous poison girl from Hundun! To feed such a revolting thing to a patient—what an abomination! We were nearly deceived!”
With her task complete, Feiling was unceremoniously thrown out of the chamber.
(They enjoyed the medicine, their lives were saved, and now this?)
Feiling sighed. The inconsistency of humans was baffling, yet she felt no need to lament it further.
