Chapter 2: The Poisoned Meal

Shen Jingzhe rubbed the chipped edge of the blue-and-white porcelain shard between her fingers. The coarse glaze scraped against her skin, sending a faint, stinging prickle through her touch. The air in the Cold Palace was stagnant, as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. In the corner, a dying candle flickered in the draft, stretching her shadow into a long, distorted silhouette against the wall. Moments ago, she had been standing before a brick wall that seeped with a metallic, bloody stench, her fingertips nearly brushing the mottled moss. Now, she had forced that terror down, replacing it with a stillness in her eyes that mirrored a dead pond. The stench felt physical, crawling into her lungs with every breath, trying to stir the latent chill within her body. She took a deep breath, forcibly shoving the turbulent current of air back down into her dantian.

She didn't turn to leave. Instead, she gently pressed the porcelain shard against the corner of the wall. The moment her fingertip touched the surface, a warm, lingering stream of Auspicious Aura surged through her meridians. It was like a ray of winter sunlight, instantly dispelling the oppressive cold clinging to her. The warmth didn't stop; it flowed from her arm to the rest of her body, relaxing her stiff joints as if they had been ironed smooth. Under the pressure of this luck, the faint scent of blood behind the wall began to recede, and the dim corner seemed to brighten for a fleeting second.

A faint smile touched Shen Jingzhe’s lips, and a cold, calculating glint flashed in the depths of her eyes. Since Xiao Jingyan and Su Wanyi believed the Cold Palace was a place for discarded pawns, she would use this ruined board to carve out a path to survival. In this imperial palace, the law of the jungle was eternal. She was destined to be the hunter, not the prey.

"Miss, they're here! Please, don't just stand there."

A flurry of hurried, panicked footsteps echoed from outside, accompanied by the rustle of fabric, shattering the dead silence of the hall. Cuiwei rushed in carrying a gold-trimmed food box. Her face was a mask of terror, and a fine layer of sweat beaded on her forehead. She had clearly run too fast; the pearl hairpins in her bun were shaking violently.

Shen Jingzhe snapped back to the present. As she stood up, she deliberately swayed, pretending her legs were weak, clutching the edge of the table to steady herself. The wooden table gave a slight shudder from the impact, and a few dried leaves slid off the corner, cracking with a brittle sound.

Cuiwei hurried forward and supported her arms, her voice thick with suppressed anxiety. "Miss, why were you staring at that wall? It's so eerie; even I'm frightened just looking at it. You're already frail—don't touch those cursed things."

Shen Jingzhe leaned into Cuiwei, her breathing slightly ragged. "It's nothing," she whispered. "Just a flare-up of my old illness. But you—why are you so flustered?"

Cuiwei set the food box on the table and lifted the lid. A pungent scent of medicinal herbs immediately filled the air, mixing with the Cold Palace's signature smell of mildew to create a nauseating aroma. She kept her head down, twisting the hem of her clothes, her eyes darting away. She didn't dare look at Shen Jingzhe, as if the bowl of dark medicine on the table were some kind of monstrous beast.

"A wet nurse from Consort Su's side just came. She said it was a special grace from His Majesty—a bowl of calming soup. When she left, she didn't even look at me. She only said the Consort ordered it, and if you don't drink it, it will be considered defying the Imperial Will."

Cuiwei's voice grew smaller and smaller, ending in a trembling whisper. Shen Jingzhe didn't speak immediately. She walked slowly to the table, her gaze falling on the celadon bowl decorated with winding lotus patterns. In the dim light, the gold lacquer was peeling and mottled, looking like a wound eroded by time.

The liquid in the bowl was a deep, murky black, so thick it was almost solidified. A strange, oily sheen floated on the surface, and a faint scent of decay wafted from it. Shen Jingzhe extended a finger and lightly touched the rim of the bowl.

Instantly, a bone-chilling Calamity Aura shot from her fingertip straight to her heart, like a viper's tongue, making her teeth chatter. Her brow furrowed, and her pupils contracted. Through the power of Broken Porcelain, Seeking Veins, she saw countless fine wisps of black mist floating on the surface of the liquid, writhing like living creatures. This was a slow-acting, potent poison designed to seal the meridians and sever the marrow—a lethal strike aimed specifically at the weak points of a frail person. The black mist seemed conscious, greedily licking the edge of the bowl, trying to break free.

"Miss, this... this is meant to kill you!" Seeing the sudden change in Shen Jingzhe's expression, Cuiwei finally cried out. She reached out to knock over the food box. "I'll spill it right now! That venomous woman Su Wanyi—she even dares to plot against the Emperor!"

"Stop."

Shen Jingzhe spoke softly. Her tone was terrifyingly calm, yet brook no argument. She pressed down on Cuiwei's hand. The force wasn't great, but it froze Cuiwei in place. The touch was ice-cold, like the skin of a corpse, making Cuiwei shudder.

"If we spill it, the entire Shen family will be branded as disloyal. If the Emperor blames us, who could possibly bear the weight of that?" Shen Jingzhe let go, staring deeply into the black medicine. A very faint smile played on her lips. "In this palace, silence is the safest disguise, and obedience is often the entrance to a trap."

"Miss, have you lost your mind? There's definitely poison in this!" Cuiwei's eyes turned red with desperation. She gripped Shen Jingzhe's sleeve, her voice choking up. "If you drink it and... and the poison takes hold, what will I do? We can't gamble with this!"

"Gamble?" Shen Jingzhe let out a light laugh, her eyes devoid of warmth. "Cuiwei, you forget—I am the one the Marquis of Zhongguo has his eye on. If Xiao Jingyan dares to sentence me to death, he can see for himself just how fast Gu Tingye's blade is."

She released Cuiwei's hand, reached into her sleeve, and pulled out the chipped porcelain shard, tossing it casually into the bowl. The shard hit the side with a crisp *ding* that sounded jarringly loud in the frozen silence of the hall, startling the winter crows perched outside the window.

"Just watch." Shen Jingzhe picked up the bowl, her posture as elegant as if she were holding a cup of imperial tea.

Terrified, Cuiwei covered her mouth to keep from making a sound. She could only watch in horror as Shen Jingzhe slowly brought the thick, black liquid to her lips. Dust motes danced in the dim candlelight, and time seemed to freeze.

Shen Jingzhe lowered her eyes. The moment the liquid touched her lips, she didn't swallow immediately. Instead, using the movement of bowing her head to hide her face, she secretly activated the sliver of Auspicious Aura she had just absorbed.

The black liquid entered her mouth, tasting incredibly bitter, but she felt no immediate distress. Instead, she felt the icy poison churning in her throat, attempting to surge through her meridians to attack her heart. The instant the poison began to spread, the warm Auspicious Aura swiftly enveloped the toxins. Using softness to overcome strength, it forcibly compressed and solidified the turbulent black mist.

She swallowed the medicine, her throat bobbing, while maintaining her expression of frail obedience.

"The taste is actually a bit better than the last few days." Shen Jingzhe set the bowl down, her fingertip tracing the rim with a soft click.

Cuiwei stood frozen, completely unable to process her mistress's words. She reached out with a trembling hand to check Shen Jingzhe's pulse, only to find that while her fingertips were cold, her heartbeat was steady and strong. There were no signs of poisoning.

"Miss... you're okay?" Cuiwei's eyes widened in disbelief, her voice shaking. "The medicine was so black... how could you dare drink it?"

Shen Jingzhe didn't answer. She simply picked up the bowl and looked at the bottom again.

The once-elegant lotus pattern was vibrating violently under the erosion of the poison. As she guided the toxic energy into the porcelain shard, the glaze at the bottom began to change subtly, emitting a strange, bloody hue, as if the porcelain were devouring the lethal Calamity Aura. The blood-red color spread like an evil flower blooming on the ceramic.

"Don't make a scene," Shen Jingzhe said indifferently, handing the bowl back to Cuiwei. "If anyone asks, say I've drunk it and thank the Consort for her grace. As for whether it worked... only Heaven and Earth will know."

Cuiwei took the bowl, her hands shaking so hard she could barely hold the light celadon. Looking at her mistress's pale but determined face, she felt an agonizing internal conflict.

"Should... should we notify the Marquis of Zhongguo in advance?" Cuiwei whispered, her eyes full of worry. "Miss, Marquis Gu said he would see you at midnight in three days, but the poison isn't even gone. What if you can't hold out until then..."

"No need." Shen Jingzhe interrupted her, her gaze falling on the sliver of sunlight about to vanish outside the window. Her expression was terrifyingly calm.

"This poison acts slowly. Even without the Aura to neutralize it, it wouldn't reach the marrow for seven days. Seven days is enough for me to see every move Xiao Jingyan and Su Wanyi make next."

She stood up and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt, her movements leisurely, as if she hadn't just drunk a bowl of family-extinguishing poison, but a simple cup of tea.

"Cuiwei, boil some water. I want to bathe. Tomorrow, I shall meet that Noble Consort in my most beautiful form."

Cuiwei stared blankly at her mistress, tears welling in her eyes, not knowing whether to cry or laugh. She could only silently take the empty bowl and turn to boil the water, her movements stiff and mechanical.

Meanwhile, in the main palace.

Su Wanyi held an exquisite jade hairpin, tapping it lightly against the table with a rhythmic *tap, tap, tap*. She leaned lazily against a soft couch, a cold, triumphant smile curling her lips.

"Shen Jingzhe really couldn't help herself," she said to her confidante, her eyes dancing with mockery. "A single bowl of calming soup, and she drinks it obediently. That Shen girl is nothing but an empty shell. Beyond her haughty attitude, she has no real talent."

The maid bowed her head and whispered, "Your Ladyship is wise. After drinking the soup, Shen Jingzhe didn't make another sound. I guarded the door and saw no abnormalities."

Satisfied, Su Wanyi put away the jade hairpin and stood up to adjust her attire, preparing to wait for the news of death. She was certain that the poison was a variant of "Qianji" that Gu Tingye could not cure. Once it entered the body, the meridians would shatter; not even an immortal could save her.

However, just as she walked to the window to blow out the lamp, her heart suddenly skipped a beat.

The sensation was slight, as if an invisible red thread had been violently severed. The jade hairpin slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a *clack* and rolling into the corner.

Su Wanyi's expression changed instantly. She clutched her chest, a flash of terror crossing her eyes. She felt that familiar Calamity Aura being forcibly blocked by some powerful force—it was even beginning to recoil.

"What happened?" she murmured, a layer of cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.

The maid rushed forward to support her. "Your Ladyship, what's wrong?"

Su Wanyi didn't answer. She stared intently toward the distant Cold Palace, and for the first time, an indescribable chill and unease flickered in the depths of her eyes. That cup of poison had not landed as smoothly as she had imagined.