Chapter 22: 022: Poisoning

Does the Xin Royal Family bear the surname Shen?

Shen Tang suppressed the urge to spit blood and forced a smile. "You might not believe me when I say this, but you are truly overthinking it."

Qi Shan asked, "I am overthinking?"

Shen Tang nodded vigorously. "Yes, you are overthinking."

Her "Shen" had absolutely nothing to do with the Xin Royal Family!

It was truly, truly, truly just a coincidence!

Furthermore—

"Don't you find it absurd? If I were truly the identity you suspect, how could I be in this current state..."

If Shen Tang weren't the person in question, she might have actually believed it. Logically speaking, Qi Shan's guess was highly probable, but the premise of that guess required this body to be a *gao'er* (a male capable of bearing children), and Shen Tang was certain no strange "lumps" had grown on her body.

She! Was! A! Genuine! Girl!

"Setting aside everything else, the officers escorting criminals wouldn't let me off so easily, and the Gong clan members traveling with us wouldn't treat me as if I were invisible..." Therefore, this body could not be the Gong Cheng he spoke of, let alone the illegitimate son of the Xin King left behind with the Gong clan.

Even if it were true, would Shen Tang admit it?

A fallen kingdom's princess or prince—how could they possibly have a way to survive?

Qi Shan fell into thought upon hearing this.

However, his expression remained calm and unreadable, making it difficult for Shen Tang to discern his true thoughts—whether he had been convinced or if he remained stubborn in his own theories.

"I understand."

Shen Tang: "..."

Brother, what exactly do you "understand" now?

At this moment, she felt an impulse to punch a hole through the top of his head.

"Go, fill all the waterskins with tea. We're in a hurry."

"And mine..."

"There's some here too..."

The shouts of soldiers rang out from outside the teahouse.

Because the escort route was remote and the weather was sweltering, the waterskins had long since run dry. They laughed as they smashed the waterskins against the owner's face. The owner endured it repeatedly; with a face red and swollen from being slapped, he forced a grimace of a smile, bowed low to pick up the waterskins, and tucked them into his robe, saying humbly, "Yes, yes, I'll do it right away—"

His worried gaze still lingered on his wife.

Seeing him dawdling, a soldier kicked him in the buttocks and urged, "What are you stalling for? Get moving!"

The owner stumbled, nearly face-planting on the ground. The owner's wife, held back by a soldier, trembled with rage but did not dare to struggle.

The expression of the couple—furious yet unable to speak, let alone resist—pleased the soldiers. Arrogant laughter accompanied the wife's terrified sobs, reaching the ears of every patron. The crowd felt indignant but dared not speak up; even Shen Tang muttered to herself, "Endure for a moment to find peace in the vastness of the world."

By the third time she recited it, she stopped.

"Damn it, to hell with the vastness of the world!"

Qi Shan, who heard her cursing clearly: "..."

He hadn't expected that while Young Master Shen looked refined and noble, he possessed quite a rogueish streak; such profanity was typically reserved for street thugs or unrefined brutes. Seeing Shen Tang stand up, he asked, "Is Young Master Shen going to seek justice?"

Shen Tang: "I'm not stupid."

Even when sticking one's neck out for others, one must use strategy. A direct confrontation was unrealistic, but that didn't mean one couldn't play dirty. Shen Tang rolled up her sleeves, adjusted her expression to one of pure innocence, and went to help the owner.

The owner was overwhelmed by the kindness and hurriedly declined.

"Young Master, you mustn't..."

Shen Tang: "What do you mean 'mustn't'? With nearly a hundred waterskins, how long will it take to fill them? I see it's just you two in this teahouse; I'm worried you won't be able to handle it and will be bullied further. It's better to finish quickly and send them away. Consider it a small gesture of my goodwill..."

The owner's eyes welled up upon hearing this.

He choked out, "Th-thank you..."

Only the couple knew the feeling of being bullied—that sense of isolation, helplessness, and despair. They also knew the patrons had no obligation to help. Who didn't know how arrogant the Geng soldiers were? They burned, killed, and looted; they killed for sport and committed every imaginable evil. Everyone feared death.

During this time, some soldiers came to check, their gazes sweeping over Shen Tang several times as she worked silently in the corner. Because she was young, worked efficiently, and had a small frame, she was mistaken for a teahouse servant. After watching for a moment and seeing no issue, they moved on.

The two worked together for fifteen minutes, only finishing all the waterskins after sweat beaded on their foreheads, completing the task.

Qi Shan asked curiously, "What did you do?"

Shen Tang took a sip of tea, her entire countenance practically screaming "pleased": "In a moment, Yuanliang will know."

Qi Shan raised an eyebrow, guessing, "Poisoning?"

"A very accurate guess."

"Where did you get the poison?"

As the words fell, Qi Shan suddenly realized something.

He asked again, "A Word Spirit?"

Shen Tang smiled in response, "Correct."

Qi Shan took a deep breath. "Which one?"

Or rather, which Word Spirit had she "defiled" or "subverted" again?

Maintaining an air of mystery, Shen Tang slowly chanted, "The green bamboo snake's mouth, the wasp's sting upon its tail."

Qi Shan frowned. "This Word Spirit?"

Like the previous one, "The plains are fertile, the bitter herbs are sweet," this was one that no one had used, or rather, one that had been judged to have no research value. Based on the literal meaning, the poison should be snake venom and wasp stings.

"Mhm. I was afraid it wouldn't be lethal enough, so I added another herb. Why don't you try to guess which one it is, Yuanliang?"

Qi Shan possessed a photographic memory.

The herb Shen Tang mentioned must surely be within the Word Spirit scrolls he had transcribed. The only thing that could be called a "herb" was...

Without hesitation, he said, "Strychnine?"

"Correct."

Too bad there was no reward.

Strychnine was unfamiliar, but once he heard the famous "death-machine drug," he understood.

Qi Shan: "..."

His gaze toward Shen Tang grew increasingly complex—

This Young Master Shen's "Way of the Lord" was not only related to "agriculture," allowing him to enrich the soil, but he could also create medicinal ingredients out of thin air?

Seeing his strange expression, Shen Tang thought he disapproved.

"Does Yuanliang look down upon this path?"

A gentleman is upright and might not approve of poisoning methods.

Qi Shan shook his head. "No. It doesn't matter what methods are used to kill these people; what matters is the result."

During his previous travels, he had passed through many fallen counties. In those places, the number of women forced into pregnancy or afflicted with serious illnesses was unexpectedly high; every household had funerals, and severed limbs and remains were seen everywhere. Judging by the conduct of those soldiers just now, could their hands be clean?

If they died, they deserved it.

However—

"You added so much of it, do you really think others won't taste it?" At the first sign of a strange taste, they would spit it out.

Shen Tang smiled. "They could with plain water, but they are filling tea. If the taste is slightly off, they will merely assume it is due to the heat."

Qi Shan: "..."

While the two were chatting, the hundred or so soldiers had finished and departed. They had taken so much advantage only to leave the owner three copper coins—and they had thrown them at his face. Yet the owner had to swallow his anger, maintaining a smile and thanking them for the "reward."

Seeing the procession disappear, Shen Tang stood up and stretched. "Yuanliang, let's go. Let's go watch a good show while it's still hot."

Shen Tang brought out her motorcycle and swung herself onto the mule.

Qi Shan continued on foot.

As the two followed at an unhurried pace, Shen Tang suddenly said, "Yuanliang, poisoning and assassinating Geng soldiers is a capital crime."

"If you know it is a crime, why do it?"

Shen Tang didn't care at all. "When you have many lice, you don't worry about a few more! As a fugitive who is only half a step from death, every extra day lived is a profit. What is there to fear in adding another crime to my name? As for you, Yuanliang, you're still following me—aren't you afraid of getting caught in the crossfire?"

Qi Shan lifted his eyelids and said calmly, "As I said before, I am not a kind person."

A name, after all—one compensates for what one lacks.

If this were a prosperous era—

Watching the Young Master Shen riding the white mule with a happy smile, Qi Shan sighed inwardly—that would likely be the "Way of the Lord" most beneficial to the world.

Unfortunately, he was born in the wrong time.