Chapter 53

The crescent moon was veiled by sparse clouds.

Even in the dim twilight, where the moon offered little guidance, a shadow moved through the bamboo grove without the aid of a lantern. It was Zhen. Uncharacteristically, he did not bother to silence his movements as he hastily pushed aside the bamboo and made his way toward the isolated quarters.

Zhen returned to the palace just one hour after Fei Ling had returned to the inner court. As if exchanging places, he visited Empress Xin-Hua shortly after Fei Ling had departed.

Empress Xin-Hua was beaming with satisfaction as she praised Zhen’s accomplishments, but her brows furrowed slightly, a shadow crossing her expression.

“Fei Ling returned just a short while ago… and His Majesty bestowed her a cup.”

Zhen froze for a moment, doubting his ears. In the palace, a “cup” referred to a poisoned chalice. It signified an imperial command for death. He nearly betrayed his shock but quickly masked it.

“Why tell me this?”

“Because you care for her, don’t you?”

Taken off guard, Zhen could not suppress the slight twitch of his brow. Women seemed to have an odd fondness for words like “love” or “affection.”

(“Ridiculous.”)

Still, arguing with the empress would only be a waste. Zhen bowed his head theatrically, overly polite.

“As you’ve astutely surmised, I am concerned for my beloved’s safety. If you’ll excuse me.”

From behind him came a playful chuckle: “Oh, how unkind you are. Fufu.” He did not turn back.

Leaving the royal chambers, Zhen felt a wave of inexplicable irritation as he walked toward the isolated quarters. Never had he been so emotionally unsettled by someone else’s affairs. The only thoughts he’d ever spared for others had been about how to kill them. And yet, why was it that he could not rid his mind of her?

If asked whether it was affection, he would likely deny it. But he was undoubtedly obsessed—unable to let her go.

(“Fei Ling… you’re truly like a deadly poison, aren’t you?”)

The isolated quarters were eerily silent. While the quiet was typical of this place, the absence of even a single light was unsettling.

“Fei Ling, are you here?”

He stepped into her chamber. The smell of herbal medicine hung thick in the air. Aside from the essentials for preparing remedies, the room was barren, devoid of any personal belongings. In one corner of the sparse chamber, Fei Ling sat slumped against the wall, her legs outstretched, head bowed.

Was she asleep? Or—

Reaching out to confirm, a gust of wind blew through the round window, casting a pale light over the room.

Zhen involuntarily caught his breath.

Bathed in the moonlight, her profile was hauntingly beautiful. Her porcelain-like cheek, her shell-like ear, and a strand of silver hair clinging to her bloodstained lips—it was too perfect, too fragile. The fierce, piercing gaze she usually leveled at him was absent; her lashes did not so much as flutter. She looked fleeting, heartbreakingly exquisite.

Drawn unconsciously closer, Zhen’s movement stopped when his foot nudged a fallen tin chalice, snapping him back to reality.

A poisoned chalice. He didn’t know what kind of poison it contained, but there was no way it could kill her.

“Fei Ling…”

He grasped her shoulders and shook her.

Her robe had loosened, and the greenish-blue fabric slipped from her shoulder, revealing bare skin.

Zhen froze.

From her shoulder to her chest, intricate patterns resembling tattoos shimmered faintly. It was the shape of a peacock’s twin wings. The blue, glowing patterns pulsed faintly, as if breathing.

“What is this?”

At that moment, Fei Ling suddenly let out a cry.

It wasn’t a mere scream—it was a bloodcurdling wail.

The latticed windows rattled violently as Fei Ling clawed at her robes, shrieking in a state of utter delirium. Her nails split against the wooden boards, leaving jagged edges. Reacting swiftly, Zhen restrained her in a firm hold.

(Is it the poison’s effect?)

Fei Ling continued to thrash against him, trying to break free. Then, all at once, her resistance ceased. Zhen thought she had fainted, but her whisper proved otherwise.

“…I’m sorry.”

Her voice was faint and devoid of emotion as she clung weakly to Zhen’s sleeve.

“…I’m so sorry… I won’t run anymore. So please…”

Fei Ling’s eyelids fluttered open, but her gaze was empty. She wasn’t looking at Zhen; her eyes were haunted by a nightmare. Tears streamed down her face.

Her trembling lips formed a desperate plea.

“Please… devour me…”

With that, her consciousness slipped away again. Holding her fragile body, Zhen’s gaze wandered aimlessly. She was so light, so delicate, as if she might shatter at any moment.

(…Why am I so shaken by this? This isn’t like me.)

The moon disappeared behind the clouds once more.

Only the faintly glowing peacock markings on her body continued their eerie, rhythmic pulse, as if breathing.

In the tin chalice rested a single spoonful of hell.

A single sip would set one’s stomach ablaze, freeze the chest, grind the mind to dust, and collapse the soul. And yet, she drank the poison. She craved the poison.

In the hazy consciousness lingering at hell’s edge, she faintly caught the scent of smoke. A fleeting trace of flowers lingered in her nose, as if she sought to shake off its presence.

When the antidote had done its work and Fei Ling regained consciousness, she realized she was cradled in someone’s arms. When she opened her eyes, she saw violet orbs shimmering in the moonlight.

“Oh, it’s you,” she rasped through a dry throat.

“…What are you harboring within yourself?”

“So, you saw the markings.”

The markings would disappear once the antidote had taken effect. If Zhen had arrived during the antidote’s preparation, then he must have seen her at her worst. Shame flickered through her, though relief came with knowing Lan-Xin hadn’t witnessed it.

“That’s poison.”

Zhen remained silent, unconvinced.

The sinisterly beautiful markings were clearly not ordinary poison—they were akin to something like “living poison.”

“A poison that devours poison—that’s what you’ve been curious about.”

“Is it tied to the poison of Bai Ze?”

“No. On the night the late emperor passed, I touched the body of a qilin that had just died. Something invaded me at that moment. Since then, I’ve become immune to all poisons.”

The thing that resided within her consumed all poisons.

But it didn’t end there.

“I’m insatiably hungry for poison.”

“You hunger for poison?”

“Once a month, if I don’t consume a strong poison, I’m overcome by unbearable agony. If I go two months without it, I’ll surely die.”

Her gaze drifted to the tin chalice.

“Only this palace’s secret poison can truly satisfy me. A poison I’ve never consumed can temporarily sate my hunger, but only for three nights at most.”

Even the poison offered by Lan-Xin had barely lasted that long.

“So, you’re sustaining your life by consuming the poison His Majesty gives you.”

The death sentence was revoked, and she was brought into the inner court.

That very night, her hunger overtook her.

In excruciating pain she’d never experienced before, she instinctively consumed poison from dawn until dusk. She chewed aconite, devoured moonlit mushrooms, and even attempted to drink mercury before the emperor appeared.

It seemed that the emperor had anticipated everything, and he handed her the poisoned cup.

Whether it was out of kindness, she couldn’t say. She understood that the emperor had his own intentions.

(Even so, she drank the poison.)

But poison is poison. Until it is detoxified, she was struck by pain.

To eat is hell; to not eat is hell as well.

“You don’t hide it, do you?”

“I hide it from others. I cannot let Aixin know. Only you.”

She spoke in a tone that almost seemed affectionate, looking away as she smiled.

“Because you’re the enemy.”

Zhen narrowed his purple eyes, seemingly unable to understand.

“Well, generally, people would only tell secrets to those they trust.”

“I told you. This is poison. I can’t tell Aixin or Xue Mei. It would force poison on them.”

“Does it not matter to you if I know?”

Fei Ling’s eyes twisted and her cheeks curved into a faint smile.

“Not at all. Because if it’s you, I wouldn’t mind taking you down with me.”

Poison, and if it’s poison…

Zhen’s expression shifted, as though he had been unexpectedly caught off guard, and he sighed with a slight wry smile.

“Ah, I see… There’s no choice but to admit it.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head and added as if it were an afterthought:

“I’ve been familiar with all kinds of poison, but… I don’t know of any poison like yours. Yet, you don’t show any signs of having poison around you.”

“I’m a medicine,” she said.

“That’s why, I… “

The rest of the sentence remained unspoken. He shook his head and sighed.

“Still, to keep consuming poison… it’s like human poison.”

“Why do you carry forbidden poison within you?”

It had been about three seasons since he met Zhen, but there was still so little that he knew. Zhen came from a family of poison masters who carried forbidden poison. He also had knowledge of Feng Shui, but his true profession was that of an assassin. What did he desire, and what kind of experiences had he gone through?

“I didn’t choose it…” He began, then fell silent again, sensing that there were boundaries not to be crossed. Fei Ling did not press him further.

The wind blew, and the moonlight shone. Even as the clouds cleared, the light of the waxing moon still cast a shadow.

The conversation trailed off, and Fei Ling remembered that she was still in Zhen’s arms. Once she became aware of it, she felt uneasy with her knees on his lap, so she tried to stand.

Just as she was about to pull away, her sleeve was grabbed.

“…”

After a brief silence of less than a second, Zhen silently released his grip.

Fei Ling turned her back to Zhen and looked toward the moon hanging on the window frame. Despite it being an autumn night, she didn’t feel cold, perhaps because of the warmth emanating from behind her.

“Just an insignificant story from the past,” Zhen murmured.

“Even among poison master families, there are few who dabble in forbidden poison. It was my mother who broke the taboo. Human poison enters the body according to the phases of the moon and takes thirteen years to neutralize—it’s a slow-acting poison.”

He explained that poison was typically administered starting from the age of ten, as one too young would die from it.

“But the first poison I ever took was when I was seven… from a bee.”

Perhaps sensing the call, a yellow hornet flew out from his black silk sleeve.

“I was born strong against poison, and quickly overcame the bee’s venom. From hornets to mercury bees, I tried them all, and then moved on to spiders.”

Next, a poisonous spider dropped from the gap in his tightly tied sash. The azure spider spun its thread, creating a silver-like web on the lattice window.

“If you keep repeating this, it becomes human poison.”

Fei Ling remained silent, listening to the history of forbidden poison. She couldn’t tell from his tone what kind of expression Zhen wore as he spoke.

“Did you resent your mother?”

“There’s no resentment. It’s just the way I was born. If I wasn’t poison, I wouldn’t be me.”

“Same as me,” she replied.

It was like looking into a mirror. Yet, even if two lonelinesses were stacked together, they couldn’t make two people in the reflection. But she didn’t mind. Even if she was lonely, becoming one with someone was not the only form of salvation.

Leaning back against Zhen, Fei Ling murmured like a falling camellia.

“You said you would kill for me.”

“Yes, I said so.”

“Then, if someday, I am consumed by this poison, at that time—”

“Please, don’t say that.”

Zhen immediately interrupted, as if he had read her mind.

He forcefully grabbed her chin from behind, arching her back, and his gaze forced hers to meet his. The pressure was so strong that she could barely breathe.

“…Hurry up and be consumed by the poison.”

Her eyes were captured by his, like shattered glass.

“I’ll wait for you to fall to the bottom of hell after being consumed by the poison.”

“…Ah.”

She exhaled softly.

“You were that kind of man.”

That was why she could expose her poison to him.

After a brief, intense stare, she was released.

She leaned back against his warm body, the scent of smoke lingering in the air, and closed her eyes. Despite being beside a man she couldn’t trust, it felt strangely comforting. As they remained silent, the weight of sleep gradually pressed down on her. She surrendered to it, falling into the depths of a dream.

For some reason, she thought she wouldn’t have a nightmare this time.