Chapter 88

The Culinary Chronicles of the Court Physician: The Disgraced Princess Consumes Poison to Create Medicine

“That is why I came to the imperial court—to kill the emperor and take my revenge on the imperial family.”

As he finished speaking, Zhen’s eyes burned with an intense venom. The swirling purple in his gaze resembled the raging flames of an infernal hell.

Fei Ling had been listening in silence. At last, she let out a breath and murmured, “I see.”

“You were truly born for poison, and have lived your life sustained by it.”

There is a fine line between medicine and poison.

They had both walked through mirrored versions of hell.

Zhen perched on the window sill, exhaling smoke from his pipe. A thin trail of violet-tinged smoke curled into the air.

“My mother was a pathetic excuse for a parent. She never saw me as anything but poison. Her end was pitiful, but in the end, she was merely poisoned by what she poisoned. That doesn’t mean I can forgive the rest of them, though.”

The hatred ingrained in him since childhood had long since taken root in his very soul. Revenge was no longer something he could resist—it had become a part of him. Perhaps, it was no longer even for his mother’s sake.

“That is what it means to be born as poison.”

Zhen hooked his finger through the jade pendant at his waist, idly toying with it as he spoke.

“My mother wanted me to become emperor, but I have no such interest. My only desire is revenge against the emperor. I want the imperial bloodline wiped from existence.”

He spat out his curse and raised his gaze, swaying like a rising plume of smoke.

His dark, despairing eyes met Fei Ling’s.

“Why don’t you take revenge with me, Fei Ling?”

With a fleeting smile, Zhen extended his arm toward her.

Fei Ling’s gaze wavered, and she stiffened.

“The former emperor wiped out my clan. The current emperor killed my mother. And he destroyed the parents you loved most. Our interests are aligned.”

“…I am medicine.”

“Exactly. The current emperor is poison. The only way to defeat poison is with poison. You have that power—choose me. You should become poison.”

Fei Ling could not bring herself to push his hand away.

She stretched her arm toward him, stopping just short of touching his fingers, and let her head fall.

Until now, Fei Ling had endured every poison and remained medicine.

She had swallowed her burning wrath, forced herself to endure the bitter taste of humiliation, and devoured despair. Her throat had long since been scorched raw. Yet she had endured—because medicine was her one remaining anchor.

(But even that has been severed.)

The mother who had taught her to be medicine had, in the end, become poison and perished.

She had never wanted Fei Ling to break the curse of their bloodline. That was why, in her final moments, she left behind a poisoned cup—not an antidote.

And the emperor she had once believed had granted her mercy had, in truth, been the one who poisoned the former emperor. The thought of crafting medicine for him made her fingers freeze.

“…If that is what you desire, shall we flee together after the emperor is dead?”

Zhen’s voice was intoxicating, like a numbing poison.

“You don’t have to take the emperor’s poison. I will satisfy your hunger instead. If you wish, I will prepare a different poison for you every night. We can travel wherever you like—the sea, the forest, the desert. And if we find a place to rest, we can put down roots.”

“Why would you say such things?”

Fei Ling’s green eyes trembled.

(Don’t speak to me as if you cherish me.)

Zhen rose from the window and pulled Fei Ling’s motionless arm toward him. Wrapping his arms around her delicate waist, he murmured,

“Abandon medicine. Free yourself.”

Running his fingers through her silver hair, he plucked the peacock-shaped hairpin from its place.

Her hair unraveled, cascading like falling white magnolia petals.

Fei Ling instinctively reached out to reclaim the pin.

Zhen narrowed his eyes at her hesitation—her inability to abandon medicine—and wordlessly tossed the hairpin aside, stepping away.

“I will come see you again.”

Leaving only the lingering scent of smoke behind, Zhen disappeared into the night beyond the window.

Left alone, Fei Ling sank to the ground.

She did not even have the strength to pick up the discarded hairpin.

She simply bowed her head.