The Culinary Chronicles of the Court Physician: The Disgraced Princess Consumes Poison to Create Medicine
It was like a grand banquet.
The imperial kitchen displayed a collection of rare ingredients procured from all across the continent.
Fei Ling was in awe.
Only fifteen days had passed since the merchant caravan had departed from the capital. They must have driven their horses relentlessly, without a moment’s rest, to gather such an array of ingredients. Once again, she was reminded of the empire’s vast reach and power.
Hai Ba-Zhen, Qin Ba-Zhen, Cao Ba-Zhen, Shan Ba-Zhen—together, they formed the legendary Si Ba-Zhen, the four great delicacies of land and sea.
Having completed her inspection, Fei Ling fastened her sash and called out:
“Begin the preparation immediately!”
With this, she would undoubtedly cleanse the emperor of poison.
“If you require assistance with the cooking, you may use the palace maids,” said the court official.
“No, I apologize, but… I cannot trust them.”
Fei Ling rejected the offer without hesitation.
“If permitted, I would like to request Ming Lan Xin. I will not inform her of His Majesty’s illness.”
She was the only maid who had sworn loyalty to the deposed princess. The official hummed in thought before nodding in agreement.
“However, should you fail in the antidote’s preparation, Ming Lan Xin will also be executed.”
“That’s fine. No matter the poison, I will cure it.”
Lan Xin would surely lament, What kind of promise did you make?!—but in the end, she would steel herself and stand by Fei Ling. That was the kind of woman she was.
Until Lan Xin arrived, Fei Ling began the preliminary preparations. She set a pot of water to boil.
After some time, someone stepped into the imperial kitchen. It was under strict watch by the guards, making entry impossible for outsiders. Assuming it was Lan Xin, Fei Ling spoke without turning around.
“Lan Xin, you’ve come. I can’t step away right now, but—”
A sudden wave of murderous intent sent a chill down her spine. The one behind her was not Lan Xin. In that moment, she understood.
“Zhen… It’s you, isn’t it?”
She turned to find a man clad in robes dark as woven shadows.
The palace guards lay collapsed behind him. Whether they were asleep or unconscious was unclear, but the flickering swarms of mayflies told her all she needed to know—they had been poisoned.
Brushing back his long, ribbon-bound hair, he spoke.
“Poison… or medicine?”
“You should already know the answer.”
Zhen’s gaze darkened, as if in disappointment.
Fei Ling continued.
“You once told me that poison can be used to counter poison. But poison that cannot be transformed into medicine does not neutralize—it only intensifies, making the poison even stronger.”
Indeed, the emperor’s poisoning had unleashed a storm of deathly toxins across the land.
“I will purge the poison with medicine.”
Green and violet—opposing eyes locked in a fierce stare.
“I see… What a shame.”
Zhen drew the hidden dagger at his waist.
The gleaming blade was honed to a razor’s edge. Fei Ling tensed.
She did not feel sorrow. She had known that choosing medicine would lead to this outcome. As long as Bai-Ze was the only one capable of curing the emperor, Zhen’s vengeance would be complete if he killed her. Yet, because they had spent so much time together, she had somehow forgotten.
(That we are enemies—)
If Zhen truly meant to kill her, there was no escaping it.
A slit throat, a pierced heart, a torn stomach—no matter how resistant to poison she was, she would not survive. She would fall as easily as a flower scattered by the wind.
“I told you to die in the depths of hell.”
“Hah, what are you saying?”
Zhen stepped forward, closing the distance in an instant. His violet eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
“This is the depths of hell, isn’t it?”
Fei Ling braced herself, certain of death.
But it never came.
Instead, her lips burned.
“—?!”
A kiss.
Why—at a time like this?
She tried to pull away, but the dagger was pressed to her throat, leaving her paralyzed. His tongue entwined with hers, forcing poison into her mouth.
A potent toxin surged down her throat, searing her chest. Her heart pounded so violently she thought it might burst through her ribs. Her limbs went numb, and her knees gave out.
Zhen caught her effortlessly as she collapsed.
Her consciousness faded. The last thing she heard was a voice—dark with something akin to obsession.
“I would never kill you. I won’t let you go, no matter what.”
For some reason, it sounded almost like a plea.
