Outside the courtyard, Xu Zhan's grumbling curses faded away on the wind.
Peace returned to the study, and then a set of footsteps could be heard approaching from a distance.
Li Sheng strode across the threshold, casually wiping the dust from his pants leg.
“Miss, the man has been locked in the iron cage in the West Wing,” he said.
He stepped beside the desk, baring his teeth with a look that was hard to describe.
“That Helian fellow just finished swallowing the medicine. The whole way here, he was rolling on the ground in agony, scratching bloody grooves into the courtyard’s blue bricks. I couldn’t stand his wretched screaming, so I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him the rest of the way.”
“Now he’s lying in the cage, twitching, and puking sour bile nonstop.”
Li Sheng swallowed hard, instinctively pressing a hand to his own stomach. “Miss, that ‘Viscera-Shattering Powder’ from Luoxia Valley is terrifying stuff! Judging by how half-dead he looked, his guts must be nearly rotting through.”
Li Sheng swallowed again, shuddering as he rubbed his stomach.
“I’ve sent two of our sharpest shadow guards to keep watch. If he so much as twitches wrong, they’ll cut him down with blades.”
Xu Qinghuan let out a soft laugh.
“No need to watch him too closely.”
“Right now, he wants to live more than anyone else. As long as he believes that medicine can kill him, he’s a mad dog chained by an iron leash—and he’ll only bite the Helian clan.”
“Go to the kitchen and get him two catties of cooked beef and a jug of strong liquor.”
“Tell him this is his first ‘settling fee’ from Great Qian.”
Li Sheng acknowledged with a loud response before standing and striding out.
…
Only after Li Sheng’s footsteps had completely vanished beyond the courtyard gate did a rustling sound of fabric come from behind the rosewood screen inside the study.
Then, a head with a messy bird’s nest of hair poked out.
Huang Zhenni, her left cheek smeared with two streaks of black ash, stumbled out with a confused look.
Dragging her cloth slippers, she circled around the screen and hurried over to the desk.
“Miss, what exactly is that ‘Viscera-Shattering Powder’ you fed that Helian man?” Huang Zhenni asked, craning her neck.
She slapped a piece of blueprint onto the desk, loudly pleading her innocence.
“These past few days, I’ve been stuck with those big men from the forge, working around the furnace day and night, not even a sip of water. When would I have time to brew you poison?”
“That guy called Amu’er back then—his forehead was all bloody from kowtowing, scared me so bad I held my breath behind the screen.”
“After he ate that medicine, he was writhing in pain, rolling on the ground like he was about to die. It was a horrible sight.”
Huang Zhenni pulled up a chair, sat down, grabbed the teapot on the desk, and poured herself a cup of water, gulping it down.
“That Su Mu from Luoxia Valley is even worse—sleeping hugging his gunpowder jars every night.”
“In the middle of last night, he insisted he’d cooked up a more powerful gunpowder blend and dragged Old Sun to the back mountain for a test blast.”
“One jar blew half the outhouse on the back mountain to bits!”
“Old Sun chased him for three whole streets with a blade, swearing he’d cut off his hands.”
Huang Zhenni wiped the water from her mouth and threw up her hands.
“Ask him to forge iron, sure. Ask him to make poison, he’ll blow the whole Workshop Bureau to kingdom come.”
Xu Qinghuan said nothing, only flipped her wrist.
From her wide sleeve, she produced another small, white-and-blue porcelain bottle, tilted her fingertip, and let a pinch of white powder fall onto the rosewood desktop.
Huang Zhenni leaned in, sniffed the little pile of powder.
Her face instantly scrunched up in disgust as she recoiled.
“No, no, no! Miss, this is not poison at all!”
Huang Zhenni pointed at the powder on the desk, ranting wildly.
“This is that failed cooling drink I made a few days ago, when the heat got unbearable! I mixed wild sour fruit with alkali flour!”
“Back then, to beat the heat, I went to the kitchen to ask Old Li for a big bowl of alkali flour, then picked a full basket of the sourest wild fruit from the back mountain.”
“Mashed them up, mixed them together, added cold water.”
“This crap is so sour and astringent it could make a person puke up last night’s dinner!”
“After drinking it, my belly kept bubbling up with gas, forcing me to burp over a dozen times in a row.”
“I only took one sip, and my face nearly stayed twisted forever!”
“Rolling and churning in my stomach, sour liquid surging up my throat—it kept me awake the whole damn night!”
“Miss, you used this to pass off as poison?”
Xu Qinghuan chuckled softly as she brushed the powder off the desk with her hand.
She curled her index finger and tapped lightly on the rosewood surface.
“Amu’er is a born-and-bred grassland man.”
“In all his life, the strongest stuff he’s ever drunk is probably just a few days’ fermented mare’s milk.”
“How could he ever have experienced the burning, searing pain this concoction stirs up inside?”
Xu Qinghuan leaned back in her chair, hands folded across her chest.
“Wild sour fruit is extremely sour and astringent; stove-top alkali powder is strong and dry.”
“Someone once said: when the two clash, they react with bodily fluids; boil and surge, swell the belly like a drum.”
“Amu’er swallowed the whole bottle in one gulp. Once it hit his stomach and mixed with the gastric juices and water, it immediately exploded.”
“Countless air bubbles swelled and stretched his stomach walls. The burning pain shot straight to his crown.”
“For a grassland man like him, who’d never seen such a strange sensation, that sudden agony and fullness was beyond anything he could imagine.”
“Naturally, he took that bloated gas for the sign of fatal poison eating his guts.”
Huang Zhenni’s eyes went wide.
“Miss, who said that? Is it really that powerful?”
Xu Qinghuan burst out laughing. “Hahaha! My dear Zhenni! Those are exactly your own words!”
With that, she gave Huang Zhenni a wink.
Huang Zhenni swallowed hard, a complete change coming over her eyes as she looked at Xu Qinghuan.
“Right, right, right, Miss—I did say that! It’s just… your heart is way too black.”
“Using a bottle of burp-inducing sugar water to con a grassland tribe leader’s son into becoming your suicide soldier?”
“Back then, he kowtowed so loud and swore he’d be your mad blade to stab into the Helian king’s heart.”
“Just now, Li Sheng swore on his life that the man’s stomach had rotted through.”
Huang Zhenni shivered.
“If they ever find out that all they swallowed was a failed summer drink…”
“Amu’er would probably die of rage on the spot, and Li Sheng would bite his own tongue off.”
Xu Qinghuan didn’t reply. Instead, her slender fingers tapped the crumpled paper in Huang Zhenni’s hand.
“Zhenni, skip the nonsense.”
“Is the blueprint for the repeating crossbow finished?”
“The three-hundred-man raiding cavalry unit on the front lines needs new gear. If the drawings aren’t delivered tonight, the forge’s rations get cut in half tomorrow.”
Huang Zhenni gasped and immediately hugged the blueprint to her chest.
“The mechanism for this repeating crossbow is way too complicated!”
“Miss, you want it to load ten bolts at once and still not jam when jostling on a horse—that’s murder!”
“During yesterday’s test shot, the latch ground clean flat, and the snapped bowstring nearly sliced off Su Mu’s ear!”
“That lunatic Su Mu took all the best steel for his fire-bomb jars. On my end, I can’t even forge a decent spring!”
Xu Qinghuan responded leisurely,
"Not precise enough? Then change the structure."
"Figure it out and get it done. I, Xu Qinghuan, naturally trust you. After all, you're Huang Zhenni!"
Huang Zhenni dared not say another word. She snatched up the blueprint,
spun around, and bolted away.
As she reached the threshold, her foot caught, and she lurched forward.
"Old Sun! Hurry and stop Su Mu! Don't let him blow up all the latrines—leave me some scrap iron!"
