With Moxun's personal assistance, a decoction to slow the spread of the poison was brewed. Surprisingly, the medicine did not taste bitter but carried a faint, sweet fragrance.
Moxun carried the bowl into the chamber.
Shen Wei lay like a lifeless puppet, struggling to swallow the medicine. Li Yuanjing cradled her in his arms, carefully feeding her the liquid drop by drop.
Moxun sighed and gently informed Li Yuanjing, "If the Noble Consort survives the night, the toxins in her body may be temporarily suppressed. If she does not... the coffins prepared by the Internal Affairs Office will be needed."
Li Yuanjing remained silent.
The spring night was dark, the cold moon and icy stars casting a pallid glow.
The gilded palace lanterns burned, wax dripping onto the candlesticks as the candles slowly dwindled. The bedchamber was eerily quiet, the scent of medicinal herbs wafting from the bronze incense burner. Li Yuanjing sat by the bed, his gaze fixed on Shen Wei's unconscious form.
Deathly pallor had overtaken Shen Wei's face.
No trace of vitality remained.
Memories of their years together flashed through Li Yuanjing's mind like fleeting shadows. His chest ached with a suffocating pain, his throat tight with unspoken emotions.
Grief, fear, helplessness.
He grasped Shen Wei's icy hand. Her hands had always been warm, lively—yet now, her slender fingers were cold and limp, offering no resistance as he held them.
His voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Weiwei, I was wrong."
The truth was, he had long been unable to live without her.
Li Yuanjing stayed in Yongning Palace the entire night.
No one knew how he endured those hours.
Only when the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, dispelling the darkness, did Moxun rouse himself from exhaustion and enter the chamber to check Shen Wei's pulse.
"The medicine has taken effect," Moxun reported. "The toxins in the Noble Consort's body have been slightly suppressed. However, the poison is too potent. Despite my efforts, I can only prolong her life for another half-month."
Li Yuanjing had not slept all night. Stubble shadowed his jaw, his handsome face haggard with fatigue.
Gently tucking Shen Wei's cold hand back under the embroidered quilt, he rasped, "Understood."
With Shen Wei temporarily out of danger, Li Yuanjing finally allowed himself a breath of relief.
Eunuch Deshun inquired from outside the chamber, "Your Majesty, shall we cancel today's court session?"
The time for morning court approached. If Li Yuanjing wished to stay and tend to Shen Wei, he could decree a day's recess.
Since ascending the throne, he had never once canceled court.
Li Yuanjing glanced at Shen Wei, who had narrowly escaped death, then at the pale morning light beyond the window.
He feared for her. He dreaded losing her. Yet the weight of the empire rested on his shoulders—he could not afford negligence.
A ruler was first the emperor of his people, and only then Shen Wei's beloved.
"Court will proceed as usual," Li Yuanjing said, rising slowly. His body swayed slightly—his mind and spirit were drained from the sleepless night of tension.
After instructing the palace maids to care for Shen Wei diligently, he sent word to the Empress Dowager in Cining Palace and delegated the management of the harem to Zhang Miaoyu. Once everything was arranged, Li Yuanjing forwent breakfast and departed for court in his palanquin.
The day was unusually busy.
With the downfall of the Lu family's estate in Yunzhou, Li Yuanjing designated the region as a military training ground and established a new port for southern trade. Additionally, there were matters of official promotions in the Ministry of Personnel, discussions on new household registration policies in the Ministry of Revenue, decisions on the Lu family's punishment by the Ministry of Justice, and irrigation plans for spring farming under the Ministry of Works. The endless pile of reports also included flood prevention measures for the Long River.
Li Yuanjing toiled through the morning before finding a brief respite.
At noon, he returned to Yongning Palace to check on Shen Wei. She remained unconscious, her breath faint, the shadow of death still clinging to her.
Li Yuanjing studied her face intently until exhaustion overtook him, and he rested briefly on the small couch beside her bed.
...
...
A falcon soared across the arid skies of Liangzhou City.
Within the general's residence, an urgent imperial missive arrived in the hands of Shen Mieyue and Sun Qingmei.
Shen Mieyue was horrified. "How could my sister, perfectly healthy, suddenly be poisoned? I must return to Yanjing at once!"
Anxiety gnawed at him.
As the eldest brother of the Shen family, he had always been protective of his siblings. Shen Qiang lived peacefully as a farmer, and Shen Xiuming thrived as an official along the coast. But Shen Wei—trapped in the treacherous depths of the imperial harem—was the one who worried him most.
His agitation grew. He immediately ordered his men to prepare horses.
Sun Qingmei stopped him, her tone calm but firm. "The Emperor has commanded me to deliver medicine to the capital. If we both return to Yanjing, who will guard Liangzhou City?"
Moreover, as a frontier general, he could not enter the capital without summons. If Shen Mieyue acted rashly, it would invite accusations from court officials and the Emperor's suspicion.
Shen Mieyue's face flushed with frustration. "But if something happens to my sister, how can I face our father in the afterlife?"
Sun Qingmei patted his hand, her delicate features composed. "With the antidote and Moxun's skills, Noble Consort Shen will be fine. You must remain here, training the troops and strengthening our defenses. I will ride to Yanjing immediately."
Sun Qingmei still possessed one last antidote pill.
Years ago, she had encountered Moxun in the countryside and received three of these rare pills. One had been given to Princess Zhaoyang.
Of the remaining two, she had used one to save Shen Mieyue when he was poisoned during a battle against barbarians.
Now, she had just one left.
After a moment's thought, Shen Mieyue reluctantly agreed. He retrieved his own heart-protecting armor and solemnly handed it to Sun Qingmei. "Be careful on the road. My sister's life is in your hands. Safe travels."
Having fought alongside Sun Qingmei for years, he knew her as a woman who "rivaled men in valor"—her martial prowess unmatched even by seasoned veterans. A thousand-mile journey, day and night, was nothing to her.
"Take care as well," Sun Qingmei replied simply before swiftly arranging for fresh horses and travel documents.
She took only one deputy with her.
As the desert winds rose, two steeds—sleek and powerful—raced out of Liangzhou City, galloping toward distant Yanjing.
The black-and-gold banners of Qing State fluttered in the wind. Shen Mieyue stood atop the city walls, watching his beloved's figure disappear into the horizon, his heart heavy with worry.
Rubbing his weathered face, he sighed.
...
...
Sun Qingmei was a woman of unyielding will. Once beyond Liangzhou City, she rode relentlessly along the official roads, stopping only three or four hours each day to rest.
When her horse tired, she exchanged it at the nearest courier station.
"General, floods in Nan Province have submerged the roads. We cannot proceed on horseback," her deputy reported, reining in his steed with concern.
Sun Qingmei unfolded a map of Qing State from her leather pouch, her sharp eyes scanning the mountainous terrain of Nan Province.
Quick-witted as ever, she swiftly devised an alternative. "We’ll bypass Nan Province, cut through Ling City, and rejoin the canal route. It’s a longer detour, but we have no choice."
Her deputy grinned, admiration clear in his voice. "If the General isn’t tired, this humble officer wouldn’t dare complain."
In Liangzhou City, no one dared underestimate this renowned female general.
Gripping the reins, Sun Qingmei turned her horse, veering around the flooded region to continue her breakneck journey.
By nightfall, the sweat-lathered steeds were panting heavily. Sun Qingmei and her deputy paused for three hours of rest in Ling City’s official residence. The remote town, sparsely populated, lay close to the larger Nan Province.
The deputy general presented his credentials to the official residence, and the magistrate of Lingcheng promptly came out to greet him. Sun Qingmei remained seated on her horse and asked the magistrate, "Why are there so many laborers in the city?"
