Volume One, Chapter 11: A Venomous Pen!

The effects of the medicinal bath and the Thunder Roar technique were remarkable. For seven consecutive days, Li Xuan practiced cultivation every morning and took the medicinal bath every night without fail. His body was changing visibly. His once pale complexion became rosy, his previously unsteady steps grew firm, and his eyes grew increasingly bright. Most importantly, within his dantian, he finally condensed a thread of internal true qi, finer than a strand of hair.

Though faint, this marked a fundamental transformation from nothing to something. With this seed of true qi, regaining the strength he once held at his peak in his previous life was only a matter of time.

While his body improved, the situation in the Eastern Palace remained rife with undercurrents.

That day, Li Xuan was in his study, dealing with affairs presented by Wang Fugui. He picked up a purple-haired jade brush pen, a gift from the Second Prince, Li Zhan, and lightly twirled it between his fingers.

The pen’s shaft was smooth and exquisitely crafted; no one could tell that it was actually a “Soul Severing Pen” laced with a slow-acting, deadly poison.

“Your Highness, this item is far too insidious; it’s best to destroy it quickly before anything untoward happens,” Wang Fugui said anxiously, standing nearby.

“Destroy it?” Li Xuan smirked coldly. “Such a fine ‘gift’—wouldn’t it be a waste to destroy it? My second brother went to great lengths to send it. If I don’t ‘use’ it properly, wouldn’t that be a betrayal of his ‘kind intentions’?”

Wang Fugui was taken aback. “Your Highness means...?”

“Tit for tat is only fair,” Li Xuan set down the brush, his gaze deepening. “Wang Fugui, do you realize how many eyes are watching me within the Eastern Palace?”

Wang Fugui’s face paled. Bowing, he replied, “Your humble servant is incompetent. Since taking charge of the Eastern Palace, I have uncovered seven palace maids, five eunuchs, and three guards who maintain unknown contacts outside. Among them are agents of the Crown Prince, the Second Prince, and even a few planted by Your Highness. The webs are tangled—pull one thread and the whole is affected. I dare not act rashly.”

“Not daring?” Li Xuan shook his head. “It’s not a matter of daring, but of inability. Remove some, and they will simply plant more. It’s a superficial solution. When dealing with venomous snakes, you don’t just strike at the vulnerable spot—you must destroy the entire nest.”

He picked up the poisoned pen and handed it to Wang Fugui. “From today on, I will use this pen to review official documents. You will assist me in staging a performance.”

“A performance?” Wang Fugui grew more confused.

“Yes—a play of the Crown Prince’s frailty, poisoned by a deadly toxin, gradually deteriorating,” Li Xuan’s eyes gleamed with calculation. “I want those spies to believe the poison in this pen is taking effect.”

Lowering his voice, he whispered a plan to Wang Fugui: “Immediately do three things. First, visit the Imperial Clinic and explain that I often feel dizzy, weak, and have no appetite—request a trusted imperial physician to examine me, but keep it quiet. Second, spread rumors that I have grown irritable and often lash out at servants. Third, and most crucial, secretly observe who shows the most interest in my ‘condition’ and asks the most questions. Record their names carefully.”

Though alarmed, Wang Fugui gradually understood Li Xuan’s intent.

His Highness was turning the tables, drawing out the snakes!

“I understand!” Wang Fugui’s eyes brightened as he nodded emphatically. “Rest assured, Your Highness, I will perform this play beautifully for you!”

“Go,” Li Xuan waved his hand. “Remember, act convincingly—don’t let them see through the ruse.”

Wang Fugui left, his posture noticeably straighter, filled with renewed vigor at serving such a meticulous and cunning master.

In the days that followed, the atmosphere in the Eastern Palace grew strange.

The Crown Prince was truly “ill.”

He became lethargic, often dozing off at his desk while handling affairs. His complexion grew increasingly pale, and he frequently burst into severe coughing fits as if trying to expel his very lungs.

Imperial physician Liu visited daily to take his pulse, always leaving with a worried frown and a pile of tonic prescriptions.

The servants suffered as well. The Crown Prince’s temper became volatile; at the slightest displeasure, he would scold and punish. Several young eunuchs were forced to kneel for extended periods for merely serving tea a step too slowly.

These changes naturally reached the ears of the other princes outside the palace, word for word.

At the Second Prince’s manor, Li Zhan listened to his confidant’s report with a smug smile.

“So it seems that that sixth brother of ours is truly on his last legs?” He raised his tea cup, blowing on the hot liquid with satisfaction.

“Indeed, Your Highness,” the sycophant replied. “Our agents in the Eastern Palace report that the Crown Prince’s face is as pale as paper, his steps unsteady, barely hanging on with medicines. Imperial physician Liu says it’s a disease brought on by worry and exhaustion; combined with his weak constitution from youth, he’s like a candle burning at both ends.”

“Ha! Perfect! A candle burning at both ends!” Li Zhan laughed heartily. “That fool actually thought I sent him a good gift. Once he dies, Father won’t have a corpse occupying the throne, right? Then, who else but me should be the master of the Eastern Palace?”

“Your Highness is truly wise!”

Meanwhile, similar conversations played out in the manors of the Crown Prince and other princes. They delighted in Li Xuan’s misfortune, eager for his early demise to claim the coveted position.

For a time, a cloud of schadenfreude hung over the entire imperial city.

Only one person harbored doubts.

That was Xiao Ningshuang.

As Li Xuan’s nominal wife, she was nearly the only one close enough to observe him.

She had seen with her own eyes that every morning, Li Xuan still went to the courtyard to practice that strange “forbidden technique.” Though his movements were slower than before, the thunderous sound emanating from within grew more powerful each day.

She also witnessed how much of the medicinal broth he drank was poured out, often more discarded than consumed. Taking advantage of the palace maids’ inattention, he would pour most of the medicine into flower pots. Those precious orchids were nearly drowned.

What puzzled her most was his appetite. Could a man “burning at both ends” really consume three large bowls of rice and half a roasted chicken at each meal? Such a tale was unbelievable.

That night, only the two of them remained in the study.

Li Xuan sat upright, holding the poisoned pen, marking and annotating document after document. Around his wrist was a thin golden silk sheath, as delicate as cicada wings, completely insulating his skin from the pen.

Xiao Ningshuang stood behind him, gazing at his focused profile, finally unable to restrain herself.

“What exactly are you up to?” Her voice was cool, tinged with puzzlement.

Li Xuan put down the pen and turned to her, wearing a perfectly measured “weak” smile. “Why would the Crown Princess say such things? I am merely serving the country’s affairs despite my illness.”

“Don’t pretend,” Xiao Ningshuang narrowed her beautiful eyes. “Your little tricks might fool others, but not me. You’re not sick at all.”

“Oh?” Li Xuan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And how do you figure that?”

“Your breathing, your heartbeat, your gaze,” she said deliberately. “A truly gravely ill man wouldn’t have your steady breath, strong heartbeat, or... eyes clear and sharp as a hawk’s.”

Li Xuan was momentarily stunned, then burst into hearty laughter.

“Hahaha, the one who truly understands me is the Crown Princess!” He rose and walked to her, lowering his voice. “Indeed, I’m not ill. Not only that, but I’m in excellent health.”

“Then why—”

“Crown Princess,” Li Xuan’s eyes sharpened, “this pond is too murky. To see how many venomous snakes and fierce beasts lurk beneath, one must first use bait to lure them out. And I am the most delicious bait.”

Xiao Ningshuang, quick-witted as ever, immediately grasped his intent.

Her heart trembled as she looked at the man before her, who could weave a deadly trap with a mere smile, feeling for the first time a strange emotion called “unease.”

His enemies were his own brothers. His battlefield was the entire imperial city. His weapons were hearts, schemes, and even his own life.

What a terrifying yet... captivating man he was.

“Aren’t you afraid of playing with fire and getting burned?” she asked softly, the worry in her tone slipping out unnoticed even by herself.

“Don’t worry,” Li Xuan looked at her, smiling with supreme confidence. “I am not only the bait—I am the most formidable fisherman in this pond.”

“The fish are about to take the bait.”

No sooner had he spoken than Wang Fugui hurried in from outside, unable to contain his excitement.

“Your Highness, the fish... have taken the bait!”