The Culinary Chronicles of the Court Physician: The Disgraced Princess Consumes Poison to Create Medicine
The disappearance of Cai Fei-Ling caused a great commotion in the harem.
For three days and nights, searches were conducted, but no clues were found.
At court, people slandered her, saying she had fled out of fear of the heavy responsibility of detoxifying the Emperor. In the harem, where they knew nothing of the Emperor’s condition, rumors spread that the imperial physician had committed some grave crime and had gone into hiding.
“I heard she tried to heal the Empress’s leg and failed.”
“I heard she poisoned His Majesty. She’s from the Khundun tribe, after all. It wouldn’t be surprising if she did something like that.”
The consorts eagerly spread their gossip.
In the harem, rumors were a form of entertainment for the women. Like butterflies fluttering about, they scattered their words—until water was suddenly dumped over their heads. A chorus of shrieks rang out.
“Lady Fei-Ling would never do such a thing!”
Standing behind them with an empty wooden bucket was Lan Xin. She stood firm, her body trembling with rage as she raised her voice.
“Take back what you just said!”
One of the consorts, dripping with water, grabbed Lan Xin by the collar.
“A mere low-ranking maid dares to do this? Do you think you’ll get away with it?”
“Lady Fei-Ling would never abandon her patients and flee for her own safety! She has always risked her life for medicine!”
It was true that Fei-Ling had seemed troubled lately.
She had burned a pot and was so disheartened by it. Her back looked fragile, as if she might crumble with a gust of wind. But even so, it was impossible to believe she would abandon her duty. There had to be some reason behind her disappearance.
“And accusing her of poisoning the Emperor—such an insult is unforgivable!”
“Wh-what?! She may be an imperial physician, but she’s still the daughter of a criminal! It was always abnormal for a criminal’s child to hold such a position!”
“Ugh…”
Overcome with fury, Lan Xin instinctively raised her fist.
“…Stop.”
Her wrist was caught from behind. When she turned around, she saw a tall eunuch wearing a mask standing there.
“You’re that rude eunuch… No, you’re Spring Consort’s—”
“Guà Láng.”
He gave his name with an exasperated sigh, then glared at the consorts.
“The one who temporarily pardoned Cai Fei-Ling was His Majesty. If you have complaints about His Majesty’s will, I can arrange an audience for you to directly appeal to him. What do you say?”
The consorts shrank back.
“Uh, um… That’s not what we meant…”
“It would be wise to stop spreading falsehoods. Unless you’re prepared to take responsibility later. Now, leave.”
Without even a parting remark, the consorts scattered like frightened spiders.
“I heard the imperial physician has gone missing.”
At Guà Láng’s words, Lan Xin frowned suspiciously.
She knew nothing about his background. She didn’t know that he had once orchestrated the water poisoning incident, nor that Fei-Ling had saved his life. She couldn’t understand why he was getting involved.
Her first impression of him had been terrible, and now she felt like a rabbit being stared down by a wolf.
“I’m not asking you to trust me. But if you’re searching for the physician, use this.”
Guà Láng handed her something glittering.
It was a pendulum, with a translucent blue crystal at the end of a chain. Inside the crystal, a droplet seemed to slumber. When shaken, it emitted a faint, watery sound.
“What is this?”
“A pendulum for finding lost things. Loop the chain around your finger, let it hang, and think about the imperial physician. It should lead you to where she is.”
Lan Xin tilted her head.
“Sounds like some kind of charm.”
“It’s more reliable than a curse.”
In truth, it was a tool used to locate water veins. But Guà Láng didn’t bother explaining further. It was too much trouble.
“You seem pretty dumb, but you’ve got good instincts. You’re the best one for this job.”
“Wait, are you saying I can punch you?”
Lan Xin smiled and clenched her fist.
“Hah… Spare me.”
“Jokes aside… why are you helping?”
When she asked honestly, Guà Láng let out a small, bitter chuckle behind his mask.
“I owe the physician a great debt.”
Lan Xin did too. But it wasn’t just because Fei-Ling had saved her life as a patient. There was something more—something worth risking her life for.
“…Then you should help more properly.”
Lan Xin muttered, and Guà Láng laughed aloud.
“Sorry, but there’s another woman I’d rather risk my life for.”
He shrugged and turned away.
Lan Xin knew he was returning to Spring Consort.
Once he was gone, she looped the pendulum’s chain around her finger, just as he had instructed.
“Please, lead me to Lady Fei-Ling… Is this how I do it?”
As she repeated the words, the pendulum began to move.
She hadn’t expected it to work, so she gasped and focused more intently.
The pendulum pointed southwest.
“That’s where Lady Fei-Ling is?”
She followed its guidance.
Crossing the Summer Palace, stepping through thickets, she finally arrived at a mausoleum.
Built of stacked stone, the structure loomed ominously, like an ancient tomb.
The imperial mausoleum was surrounded by eerie rumors.
Some said it held an empress who had been neglected by the Emperor and denied burial with the imperial family. Others claimed it was the grave of a consort who had lost her mind and been abandoned by her clan. None of the stories were pleasant.
The whole area was dim, unnervingly silent.
“So scary… It’s broad daylight, so there won’t be ghosts, right? Why would she be in a place like this?”
Fighting back tears, Lan Xin searched for the entrance.
She climbed the stairs, but the door was shut.
Checking the walls for another way in, she noticed the pendulum was now pointing downward.
“Wait… No way… Lady Fei-Ling isn’t dead, right?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she screamed.
“Lady Fei-Ling! Lady Fei-Ling! No, no! Don’t be dead!”
“…Lan Xin? Is that your voice?”
She could hear Fei-Ling’s voice, faint but unmistakable.
