At the Ancha Shi’s yamen office.
Cui Wangshu placed the strategy document on the table and said indifferently, “The Myriad Nations Conference is less than three months away. The main venue will be at the temporary palace, and the banquet venue has been set at the Yellow Path Palace Merchant Guild.”
This temporary palace had been rebuilt in Luzhou City after the previous one was seized by the imperial court, making it perfectly suitable for hosting the Myriad Nations Conference. But the Yellow Path Palace Merchant Guild…
Wang Jin’s face showed surprise as he asked, “Will Yellow Path Palace agree to that?”
Cui Wangshu gave him a faint glance and said, “They already have.”
Wang Jin suppressed his shock and nodded calmly, pretending composure. The Minister truly had remarkable abilities—even securing the Yellow Path Palace Merchant Guild’s pavilion.
Cui Wangshu continued, “His Majesty has approved it. During the Myriad Nations Conference, Luzhou will lift the curfew, starting a month in advance to encourage night markets among the populace.”
“Starting today, draw some of Luzhou City’s guards for security drills targeting the conference and night markets. Ensure no murders occur during the event.”
Wang Jin noted it mentally and nodded. “Yes, I’ll arrange it immediately.”
Cui Wangshu hummed in acknowledgment and went on, “The banquet performances must also begin selection and rehearsals. The theme this time is ‘ever-changing progress.'”
The Myriad Nations Conference was no small matter—from national negotiations and interest divisions to the assembly and banquet arrangements, all required Cui Wangshu’s personal oversight.
Fortunately, she mostly just supervised, with others handling the specifics.
“From the capital, the Ministry of Rites delegation has set out and will arrive in Luzhou soon. They’ll coordinate with you then, Lord Wang.”
“Focus your efforts on security, Lord Wang. If the conference security doesn’t meet my standards, you know my temperament well enough.”
Her voice was cool and low, both a reminder and a warning.
Everyone knew Minister Cui demanded perfection, to the point of nitpicking. Slack off, and not only would your career end, but your head might roll too.
Wang Jin swallowed hard and slowly shifted his gaze to Cui Wangshu. She stared back expressionlessly, sending chills down his spine despite her blank face.
He bowed his head tensely. “Rest assured, Minister. I will ensure Luzhou’s safety, showcasing Great Zhao’s strict laws, impartial justice, and societal stability.”
A cold arc tugged at Cui Wangshu’s lips. “Very good.”
Wang Jin wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and continued listening to her instructions.
The Myriad Nations Conference involved myriad complexities. Once the plan was set, the Ministry of Rites would oversee the details, so Cui Wangshu’s workload was neither too heavy nor too light—heavy in grasping the big picture and directing timely adjustments, light in not needing to micromanage, easing some pressure.
The remaining tasks would unfold after the Ministry of Rites arrived in Luzhou.
At lunch, Cui Wangshu stared at the table of dishes, finding them tasteless. The Luo River diversion needed to be prioritized.
Any further delay, and some people might slip away.
She narrowed her eyes, recalling Jiang Chenbi’s deliberate distance that morning when she returned to Qingcang Mountain.
That woman, Jiang Chenbi, always chose to push others away first when facing uncertain problems, as if she couldn’t handle anything herself.
Once with the Love Gu flare-up, once with sudden deafness.
Cui Wangshu’s lips curled coldly. Some people talked a good game about forcing her to help dispel the Love Gu, but it turned out she was just a paper tiger—strong in words only.
Even knowing Jiang Chenbi did it to avoid burdening her, Cui Wangshu was still angry. Jiang Chenbi had started it all—how could she come and go as she pleased?
As Cui Wangshu had said before, if Jiang Chenbi dared to entertain other thoughts, she’d make her regret it.
Not to mention, if Jiang Chenbi truly tried to leave her, Cui Wangshu might do something even more extreme.
Cui Wangshu didn’t realize that the overwhelming possessiveness surging in her heart was inextricably linked to the extracted lust and desire.
Wang Lao had once warned Jiang Chenbi: People like Cui Wangshu were best kept at emotional arm’s length. Once they fell for someone, their suppressed obsessions and pathologies would uproot themselves. The love they gave was non-negotiable and abnormal.
She blended desire with affection, treating her beloved as a forbidden possession—no one could covet them, not even glance their way.
She demanded total control over her love, stripping even the beloved of agency over their own body and emotions. As the absolute dominator, every heartbeat and breath of her love belonged solely to her.
Once such a person fell in love, they would never let go—like a mad dog that smelled meat, chasing it to the ends of the earth.
Cui Wangshu set down her chopsticks, wiped her mouth, glanced at the early hour, changed into light black clothes, donned a mask, and personally went to Yunyu Fang to purchase some items.
On Qingcang Mountain.
After a morning of bloodletting and antidote pills, Jiang Chenbi’s hearing had finally recovered somewhat. But Liu Xuan’s poison was truly insidious.
One crucial acupoint was particularly tricky. To expel the toxin, she had no choice but to seal her vocal cords, rendering her mute.
Jiang Chenbi: “…”
Ying Lan bit back a smile beside her.
This needle posed no danger—it would wear off in at most six hours. Forcing another to unblock it would drive the expelled poison straight to her heart.
Jiang Chenbi took a deep breath, inwardly cursing the old fox Liu Xuan’s viciousness, while grudgingly admiring him. She prided herself on her poison skills, yet today she’d learned new ways to torment from him.
Ying Lan cleared her throat lightly. “Palace Lord, the Young Mistress sent word she wants to come back. Someone from the Southern Frontier has already arrived.”
Jiang Chenbi: “…”
Deliberately reporting when she couldn’t speak.
Ying Lan grinned mischievously. “If Palace Lord says nothing, I’ll reply that you agree, okay?”
Jiang Chenbi stood, grabbed Ying Lan’s ear—not too hard. Ying Lan yelped dramatically “Ow—” playing pitiful. Jiang Chenbi pointed at her face, gritted her teeth, released the ear, and pinched Ying Lan’s cheeks with both hands.
After a moment, Ying Lan rubbed her flushed cheeks pitifully, glaring accusingly at Jiang Chenbi.
Young as she was, with baby fat on her face, it was soft and cute to pinch. Jiang Chenbi felt refreshed and waved her hand, signaling agreement to reply.
Li Qian coming was fine—it saved her a trip back to the Southern Frontier and lectures from her master. Jiang Chenbi had intended to agree anyway, but the little brat Ying Lan had to provoke her.
Still, the antics lifted Jiang Chenbi’s foul mood considerably.
If she couldn’t speak, so be it—she had no urgent need to anyway. With that thought, she headed lightly to the pharmacy.
Liu Xuan’s poison inspired her. She suddenly recalled a poison she’d researched before, experimenting repeatedly without satisfaction.
Too mild, and it lacked control; too potent, and without antidote, the subject died quickly.
Jiang Chenbi didn’t want to rely solely on gu worms for control—Southern Frontier had genius gu masters who could crack them.
She’d considered poisons before but lacked a method. Today, Liu Xuan’s poison sparked an idea.
The Yellow Path Palace pharmacy upstairs was for researching anesthetics and poisons; downstairs was the water prison for offenders against the palace or those who botched missions badly.
Used for experiments or gu breeding.
Like the Human-Face Gu from Liu Baizi Bend—an ancient gu poison requiring a limbless human pig, fed on brains, to mature.
Jiang Chenbi’s gaze swept impassively over the water prison inmates, their breaths faint, near death.
She frowned, eyeing one with slightly stronger vitality. A glance, and the water prison guard dragged him out.
The guard was Mazi, nearly seventy, stooped with sparse hair, his sunless face ghostly pale. Beneath his skin writhed dense bugs.
This was the Poison Gu Sect’s secret Stiff Insect Gu: bug lives, corpse lives; bug dies, corpse dies.
In other words, the old man wasn’t human—a Walking Stiff. If inmates went unused, he feasted.
Jiang Chenbi kept a ground full of such Walking Stiffs in her palace.
Mazi gripped the man’s chin, forcing his head up for inspection.
Jiang Chenbi glanced indifferently and gestured for Mazi to take him to the pharmacy. Mazi grinned dumbly, revealing black teeth and corroded gums.
Jiang Chenbi frowned; Mazi clamped his mouth shut, lips pursed in apology.
After securing the man to the special chair, Mazi returned to the water prison—Walking Stiffs couldn’t endure prolonged light.
After Mazi left, a woman wearing the Qiangmu Protector Mask entered as escort, clearing the way.
Jiang Chenbi ignored the dying man on the chair, retrieving a white jade vial from the cabinet—her Soul-Seizing Powder.
She took a tiny amount, mixed it with components cracked from Liu Xuan’s poison, ground and extracted, yielding a small bit.
Jiang Chenbi beckoned; the masked woman approached and forced the poison into the man’s mouth.
Frowning, she tilted her head like a small animal, watching him struggle violently before expiring.
Boredom flickered in Jiang Chenbi’s eyes. She tapped the desk three times with her knuckles; Mazi rushed out to drag the corpse back.
Seeing Mazi drooling greedily, she tapped once more. Mazi reluctantly looked away, nodding guiltily—he’d send the next one before feasting.
Jiang Chenbi shook her head, a helpless smile curving her lips, urging him to hurry.
She experimented from noon till dusk, finally perfecting the dosage and formula. Holding the completed Soul-Seizing Powder, she left the pharmacy. Mazi watched regretfully.
Though stuffed round-bellied, such feasts were rare—Jiang Chenbi rarely failed in compounding, but this Soul-Seizing Powder had eluded her until now.
Jiang Chenbi handed the Soul-Seizing Powder to Ying Lan, gesturing for her to test it on the new recruits.
Seeing the Palace Lord’s eager gaze, Ying Lan smacked her lips silently, silently mourning the newbies.
After washing off the medicinal scent in the Bath Palace, Jiang Chenbi returned to her room, closed the door, and took a few steps forward.
Realizing someone else’s presence, before she could turn, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, pinning her tightly in an embrace.
