After Transmigrating into a Book, I Was Entangled by the Paranoid Eldest Princess - Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“No more affection, and no more resentment.”

Si Jinghua felt a bone-chilling coldness from her words.

Underneath Wen Chenqing’s calm, detached tone, Si Jinghua saw her own heart with unprecedented clarity. She saw how she had moved from curiosity to wariness, then to a gradual addiction to her tenderness, and finally to a growing fear of losing her…

These chaotic and complex emotions which she hadn’t even untangled herself at first, clogged her throat, turning into a bitter dryness under Wen Chenqing’s utterly indifferent gaze. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed hard by an invisible hand, the pain so intense she could barely breathe.

Si Jinghua clenched her fingers in a futile attempt to grasp something, anything.

Outside the window, the thunder had ceased, leaving only the night rain tapping against the silent room.

Wen Chenqing saw the fleeting daze and agony in Si Jinghua’s eyes. She took a step back and said flatly, “Your Highness, the night is late. Go to sleep.”

At the moment Wen Chenqing turned away, Si Jinghua covered her mouth with a handkerchief and let out a light cough. When she finished, she ignored the stained handkerchief, tightened her crimson lips, and remained silent.

Perhaps the toxins dormant in her body were acting up, causing a dull ache to churn in her internal organs. If that were the case, why not let her just collapse? Then, Wen Chenqing would surely not stand by and do nothing. She had always been so kind-hearted.

Si Jinghua’s thoughts spun round and round, her gaze lingering for a long time on Wen Chenqing’s silhouette, which had grown noticeably thinner lately.

Finally, she said in a raspy voice, “You sleep. Bengong is leaving.”

The door opened, and the misty night rain blew against her cheeks, bringing waves of cold. Fuqu hurried to hold an umbrella for the Princess. As the two descended the steps, thunder rumbled in the sky once more. Mistress and servant walked further away amidst the roaring sounds.

Inside the room.

Wen Chenqing pulled back the covers and got into bed. She stared blankly into space for a moment before pulling the quilt over her head. Soon, her interrupted sleepiness gradually returned.

Yinxing suddenly noticed that the atmosphere in the villa had become very strange lately.

Since arriving here, she only moved about outside when delivering meals to her mistress; otherwise, she stayed huddled in her room. In the beginning, she was so anxious she couldn’t get anything done, spending all day praying for her mistress and cursing those heartless people in her mind.

Later, as her mistress’s mood seemed to improve—eating more and appearing more spirited—Yinxing’s anxiety lessened, and she found herself able to do other things.

But these past two days, every time she stepped out of her room to deliver a meal, she felt something was wrong.

In the past, although the villa was quiet, there were always subtle sounds of footsteps, whispers, and laughter. Sometimes she could even strike up a conversation with someone to fish for information.

But in the last two days, all of that had vanished. Every person she encountered had a tense face and a fearful expression, as if a great disaster would strike at any moment of carelessness. A suffocating silence permeated the air, and even the wind passing through the corridors seemed to move with caution.

When Yinxing walked out, she felt completely out of place. She felt as though she were inside a hermetically sealed, stifling jar; the oppression made her heart heavy with frustration.

Only when she went to see her mistress did this inexplicable oppression and frustration disappear.

Yinxing rested her chin on her hand, watching her mistress eat while she talked about what she had seen on the way.

Wen Chenqing glanced at her: “The owner of the villa is likely in a bad mood. Everyone else is keeping their heads down and playing it safe; don’t you go acting foolishly.”

Just like before, when she had warned Yinxing not to clash with others, yet the girl had dared to argue right in front of “that person.”

Yinxing puffed out her cheeks: “Miss, I’m not that foolish!”

Wen Chenqing nodded, coaxing her: “Mm, you’re not foolish. I was wrong; you’re just sincere.”

Yinxing gave a bashful smile. Her eyes drifted to the schoolwork her mistress was diligently working on at the desk, and she became a bit dejected again.

“Miss, how much longer is Her Highness going to keep you locked up?”

“…” Wen Chenqing lowered her eyes in thought. “I do not know.”

In truth, she had some guesses. Despite her words on that rainy night, the Eldest Princess had not flown into a rage. Wen Chenqing, who had been acting with a gambler’s mindset, had an inkling that her odds of winning were improving.

In terms of power, who in this world could compete with the current Eldest Princess? Wen Chenqing could only gamble on the human heart.

Having read half of the original novel, Wen Chenqing knew the Eldest Princess was overbearing and obsessive; anything she set her sights on, she would rather destroy than discard. But a “thing” is an inanimate object, while a human is a living being—the hardest thing to predict or measure.

Especially since the Princess seemed to have a sliver of genuine feeling for this “living being” and had entertained thoughts of forbearance. When she heard that Si Jinghua had refrained from “pointing out her true form” out of fear because she believed she was a demonic thing, a thought had quickly risen in Wen Chenqing’s heart.

If she harbored feelings for a “demonic thing,” it showed that this rare bit of sincerity held some weight. Furthermore, Si Jinghua seemed to be the type who could be moved by soft tactics but would resist force.

These thoughts flashed by, and Wen Chenqing decided to speak her mind truthfully: she no longer had any affection for Si Jinghua.

Given Si Jinghua’s obsessive nature, she now had only two paths regarding Wen Chenqing. Either destroy her or let her go.

No destruction, no construction.

Whether she was destroyed or set free, Wen Chenqing was mentally prepared for either outcome.

She gave the worried Yinxing a reassuring smile and said gently, “Don’t frown anymore. Aren’t I doing quite well now? Take care of yourself on the outside.”

“Miss, I definitely won’t let you worry about me again,” Yinxing promised, nodding.

As she walked back with her food box, she nearly collided with someone at a corner. Looking up, she saw it was Fuqu. Yinxing froze, and the apology at the tip of her tongue was swallowed back down—she had no intention of apologizing to Fuqu.

Fuqu looked up with eyes that bore unmistakable exhaustion. She also froze for a moment upon seeing Yinxing. By unspoken agreement, the two silently moved past each other and went their separate ways.

As Yinxing walked, she sniffed the air vigorously. She had just smelled a scent of medicinal herbs on Fuqu.

Was someone sick?

In the Capital, Heng Prince’s Mansion.

Si Jingyu lay under a brocade quilt, his face flushed and his forehead burning hot, yet he still shuddered with cold from time to time.

“Your Highness, the medicine is here.”

An attendant carefully helped him up and fed him a bowl of thick medicinal broth. In less than fifteen minutes, Si Jingyu gradually began to feel better.

He clutched his chest and said sharply, “Summon Physician Wang.”

The “cold syndrome” had not improved in days; he did not believe it was a simple cold. Before long, Physician Wang arrived with his medical chest. Si Jingyu leaned against the headboard, his voice raspy from the high fever and his eyes sharp: “This illness of mine has recurred for several days, and the medicine shows no effect. Take my pulse again carefully. Is it truly a case of cold entering the body?”

Physician Wang stepped forward and took the pulse with great care. Today, the pulse—which had seemed normal before—made his heart skip a beat.

“May I examine Your Highness’s appearance closely?”

“You may.”

Physician Wang bowed respectfully and examined the Fourth Prince’s tongue coating and eyelids. After a long while, he took a step back, bowed deeply to the floor, and spoke with uncontrollable panic: “Your Highness… forgive me, I failed to detect it before…”

Si Jingyu’s heart sank: “Continue.”

“Your Highness’s condition initially appeared exactly like a common cold. But upon further examination today, I found… I found this is by no means an ordinary cold, but rather… rather, a case of poisoning.”

Physician Wang’s heart pounded. The Fourth Prince had been poisoned, and he had failed to notice for days. How would the Emperor punish him if he found out?

Despite having had his suspicions, hearing the word “poisoned” made Si Jingyu’s pupils contract suddenly. His hand on the quilt clenched into a fist. Making an instant decision, he said calmly, “There is no need to inform Father Emperor of this.”

If his father learned it wasn’t a cold but a poisoning, he would investigate thoroughly. If that investigation led back to the poisoning of his Imperial Sister—even a single shred of evidence—he would be finished. He couldn’t take that risk.

Physician Wang looked up: “Your Highness…”

Si Jingyu narrowed his eyes slightly: “Physician Wang, surely you don’t want Father Emperor to know about your negligence these past few days? My being poisoned went undiagnosed by you. If something were to happen to my health, I wonder if your life would be enough to compensate?”

Physician Wang’s lips trembled, and he was speechless.

Si Jingyu said, “I am doing this for your own good. Physician Wang, the best course of action now is for you to do your utmost to neutralize the poison and ensure my health remains intact.”

After a long silence, Physician Wang bowed and said, “I understand.”

Seeing that he was sensible, Si Jingyu relaxed his brow and asked, “What poison is it? Can it be cured?”

Physician Wang gathered his spirits and replied, “Your Highness’s symptoms resemble a cold, yet they trigger internal fire and confuse the pulse. It is very similar to a secret drug from the previous dynasty recorded in the Imperial Academy. While its toxicity isn’t immediately fatal, it uses cold-like symptoms to damage the internal organs, leading to long-term physical depletion.”

“To neutralize this poison, ordinary heat-clearing herbs won’t suffice. One needs an extreme cold substance to dissolve the heat-toxin.”

An extreme cold substance. How coincidental—he just happened to have a Hundred-Year Black Ginseng in his possession. He had requested it from his father’s private store just a month ago. Did someone know he had the ginseng and specifically choose this poison?

It would drag his body down without taking his life. Had someone detected his plotting with the Minister of War? Who was behind this? A list of suspects flashed through Si Jingyu’s mind.

“My mansion happens to have a Hundred-Year Black Ginseng. Physician Wang, write the prescription. You may take any other herbs you need from the treasury.”

Seeing Physician Wang nod in compliance, Si Jingyu added, “As for how to report today’s events… I assume you already know what to do.”

“I understand.”

“Very well. You may leave.”

As Physician Wang hurried away with his chest, Si Jingyu called out, “Someone!”

The attendant, Li He, hurried in and bowed: “Your Highness, there are leads regarding the matter you asked me to investigate two days ago.”

At a signal from the Fourth Prince, Li He continued: “I have been closely monitoring the personnel entering and leaving the mansion. I found that two days before Your Highness fell ill, a servant responsible for cleaning the study acted abnormally. He had a brief contact with a steward from the Third Prince’s mansion at a tavern.”

Si Jingyu’s gaze sharpened: “Truly?”

Li He said, “That servant was found dead this morning in a well outside the city. He’s gone.”

“Dead men tell no tales.” Si Jingyu sneered, a cold light flickering in his eyes. “Well played, Third Brother.”

Li He looked at the Prince’s expression and added, “Your Highness, the Third Prince went to the palace today to see the Emperor about a marriage arrangement. It seems he mentioned the daughter of the Zhu family.”

The daggers were out.

Si Jingyu’s voice was icy: “It seems my Third Brother, despite his plain looks, has quite exceptional taste.” He had actually thought of the same thing.

Si Jingyu turned and asked, “Is Pei Lang free now? Have him make a trip to Lord Zhu’s on my behalf.”

“Yes.”