Chapter Three: Poisoned to the Core, Death Approaches

Two quilts were laid out on the bed. Seeing Wang Lantian gazing absentmindedly out the window, Yezi leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Miss, how can you sleep like this? They are men, and propriety must be observed between men and women. How can you share the same bed?”

I tried to soothe her, “I have a plan. I’ll hang a curtain across the bed. Besides, no one knows we’re women, so nothing should happen.”

“Will that really work? If the master and mistress find out, they’ll beat me to death.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” Honestly, sleeping in the same bed as a man was no big deal to me. Wang Lantian didn’t even know I was a woman and wouldn’t do anything improper.

Still, thinking about Wang Lantian, he was so different from the legend. I turned my face away, staring blankly at his back. He was a tragic figure in history.

“Young master, what are you thinking about? It’s time for dinner.”

Yezi gave me a gentle push, bringing me back to reality. “Oh, alright, let’s go.”

As I stepped out, Wang Lantian remained by the window, his figure lonely. For some reason, I wanted to tell him, “Brother Lantian, it’s time for dinner.”

He turned and nodded to me. “Hmm, Acheng will bring it.”

This young master was truly pampered, needing someone to serve him even at meals. Yezi closed the door behind us as we made our way to the dining hall, where we met Liang and Zhu and walked together.

During dinner, while Zhu Yingtai was serving soup, Liang Shanbo confided in me his complaints: Zhu insisted on sleeping apart from him with a book between them, and he repeatedly assured me he had no bad habits.

Liang Shanbo complaining about Zhu Yingtai was quite the revelation. I had always thought he was the one to endure all grievances.

After dinner, I parted ways with Liang and Zhu and returned alone to my room. Upon opening the door, the scent of medicinal broth greeted me. Wang Lantian was eating; seeing me enter, he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. “Acheng, take this away.”

“Yes, young master. Remember to take your medicine!” Acheng carried the tray out.

Only the two of us were left in the room, but Wang Lantian seemed to treat me as invisible. He sat by the table, finished his medicine, placed the bowl by the door, then quietly sat at the desk writing.

I rested my head on my hand in a chair, staring at the pen in Wang Lantian’s hand. People in ancient times were so dull—no nightlife at all—and I was stuck with such a bore.

As night fell, Acheng returned to arrange the bedding. Wang Lantian slept on the left, I on the right, and the night passed without incident.

Life at the academy was tedious. Each morning we attended the master’s lectures, then ate, relieved ourselves, and slept—life as pointless as that of a waste. The students seemed to keep to themselves, lacking any passion. Only Liu Xiangdong’s unruly group was somewhat lively, playing ball and mingling.

This life was far duller than I imagined. Although professionally trained, I still couldn’t adapt. Five years—please pass quickly.

Sharing a room with Wang Lantian was another torment. Though not sleeping on a bench, facing a living corpse all day was disheartening. Especially with the constant strong smell of herbal medicine at night. I wondered what illness he had. He seemed normal but drank medicinal broth daily.

That night, the room was stifling. I stared blankly at the books on the desk, sweat soaking my back. This cursed place didn’t even allow baths. I longed for air conditioning, a fan—anything.

Wang Lantian sat reading opposite me. I leaned forward. “Brother Lantian, it’s so stuffy in here. Shall we take a walk?”

He looked up, then shook his head. “The night is deep and dewy. Better stay inside.”

Helpless, I returned to bed. Sleep would erase my discomfort. Counting sheep—one, two, three—I drifted off.

In my half-dreaming state, I vaguely heard rapid breathing beside me, very close. Instinctively, I sat up and saw Wang Lantian leaning on the edge of the bed, gasping heavily. In the darkness, I couldn’t see clearly, so I got up to light a lamp.

His face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked miserable. I stepped forward to ask what was wrong, but he couldn’t speak clearly.

Desperate, I threw on my coat and rushed to Acheng’s room. After alerting him, I hurried to the infirmary and woke Wang Lan, the headmaster’s daughter, a skilled healer.

By the time Wang Lan and I returned, Wang Lantian had already lost consciousness. The commotion had drawn a crowd outside the door.

Wang Lan took his pulse and revealed the truth: Wang Lantian was poisoned deeply. He was only surviving through medication. Even Wang Lan, a masterful healer, couldn’t identify the poison. She noticed the incense on the table—a blend of precious herbs that suppressed the spread of toxins but, if inhaled for too long by ordinary people, could severely harm the spleen and lungs.

“Acheng, what caused the young master’s poisoning?” Wang Lan asked.

I saw hatred flash in Acheng’s eyes. “I don’t know. It’s been three years.”

Wang Lan nodded. “The poison is deeply rooted. It’s a miracle he’s still alive. The medicine you got from me only suppresses the toxin; it cannot cure it.”

Acheng sighed. “We’ve sought every famous doctor for three years with no success. Miss Wang, in your opinion, how much longer can our young master live?”

“That…” Wang Lan hesitated. “Did the previous doctors not tell you?”

Acheng shook his head. “The young master never let us accompany him during consultations, Miss Wang. Please speak freely.”

“If lucky, the young master might survive until the end of his studies.”

The end of his studies? That meant three years. Could Wang Lantian truly have only three years left?

I looked at him sleeping peacefully on the bed—such a fine man, yet doomed to so short a life.

“He’s just a doomed soul. Let’s see how long he can keep his arrogance!” Outside, Liu Xiangdong’s mocking voice rang out. He had clearly not been reprimanded enough.

Acheng grabbed Liu Xiangdong by the collar and delivered a fierce beating.

Liu Xiangdong was asking for it, but the ever-kind Liang Shanbo intervened. “Acheng, calm down. The priority now is to save Brother Lantian’s life.”

Acheng stopped, gazing at Wang Lantian on the bed with a faint voice: “It’s useless. The Wang family is powerful; every method has been tried. The young master came to Nishan to study precisely because he doesn’t want the mistress to witness his death, to avoid the tragedy of parents burying children. He’d rather die far from home.”