“That is a good question.”
Xiao Jin was silent for a long time. Finally, she picked up her teacup. Under the fixed gazes of the two, she calmly lifted the lid and took a sip.
Today, Xiao Jin hadn’t worn a crown, merely tying her hair with a black ribbon embroidered with silver bamboo.
Her black hair cascaded onto the backrest of the wheelchair, as she lowered her eyes and gazed quietly at the olive-colored tea leaves floating on the water’s surface.
Such a leisurely and composed demeanor indeed carried the air of a big boss.
In reality, this series of actions by Xiao Jin was indeed rather pretentious.
So much so that Chu Shao, watching the cup of tea in Xiao Jin’s hand, became somewhat curious about what the other would say next.
However, Xiao Jin’s mind was completely blank.
What to say after drinking the tea? She didn’t know. She only knew that she had three seconds left to react.
A true warrior often only needs three seconds.
In the three seconds it took for Xiao Jin to swallow the tea and place the cup back on the table, her thoughts were tangled like hemp.
But when she raised her head again and looked at Su Tan, her eyes were quite calm and unruffled.
Su Tan looked at Xiao Jin’s confident expression and had to admit, she was also somewhat mysteriously expectant, even though she couldn’t quite understand why she held expectations for the supremely pretentious Xiao Jin.
“This Prince also wants to ask Doctor Su in return: Why can’t this worm be a Gu worm?”
Xiao Jin asked slowly, her face expressionless, yet her gaze was extremely sharp.
Why couldn’t it be a Gu worm?
Su Tan was stunned. Meeting Xiao Jin’s scrutinizing eyes, she was nearly stumped by this question.
Then she quickly reacted. This corpse had been in the dark chamber for a while. Coupled with recent rainy days in the Capital City, it was normal for it to rot and breed maggots.
Although this black thin worm was indeed a Gu worm, Xiao Jin had never studied medicine and could determine it was a Gu worm at a glance. There must be more to this story.
Thinking this, Su Tan felt her logic was very clear and was about to refute accordingly. Unexpectedly, Xiao Jin spoke again.
“Doctor Su, This Prince not only knows that this worm is a Gu worm but can also determine exactly which Gu poison the assassin died from.”
Xiao Jin’s tone was indifferent, giving Su Tan no chance to retort, firing off a series of bombshells as if asking and answering herself.
If there was still a suspicion of bluffing earlier that puzzled Su Tan, now she truly began to re-evaluate Xiao Jin’s words.
For no other reason than that the Gu poison in this assassin’s throat was actually something she had developed herself, although she didn’t know why it had appeared in the Qi Kingdom.
But this matter involved the secrets of Great Yao. Few besides the most exalted individuals of Yao knew of it.
Su Tan put down her small knife and looked at Xiao Jin, her voice even carrying a faint trace of a smile: “Your Highness, please speak. This commoner woman is all ears.”
【Ding! Congratulations, Player! Su Tan Favorability +10】
Xiao Jin watched the slight smile curving on Su Tan’s lips, somewhat baffled.
It was also the first time she’d learned that retorting to someone could actually increase favorability.
But, fortunately, Xiao Jin remembered what Gu this was, so she could now confidently challenge Su Tan.
Xiao Jin lowered her eyes, casting a glance at the corpse on the ground, and said coolly: “This Gu is the ultimate among Gu poisons, named ‘Endless Sorrow.’“
Having said this, she wore a deliberately inscrutable expression. Xiao Jin had intended to wait for Su Tan to ask further, so she could elaborate.
Unexpectedly, after hearing these words, Su Tan actually fell silent. And looking closely, her complexion even paled somewhat.
Xiao Jin was deeply puzzled.
This so-called “Endless Sorrow” Gu was actually something she had read about a few days ago while casually browsing books in the original host’s book pile.
Logically, this Gu should be common knowledge, which is why it was written in an ordinary book. But judging from Su Tan’s reaction, that didn’t seem to be the case.
What surprised Xiao Jin even more was that the person who picked up the conversation next was not Su Tan, but Chu Shao, who was standing beside the corpse.
“Your Highness, this humble wife is somewhat curious. What is ‘Endless Sorrow’?”
Chu Shao’s lips held a smile, peaceful and light.
But when Xiao Jin looked into Chu Shao’s eyes, she understood that things were far from simple.
Because Chu Shao’s gaze was too calm, having shed the gentleness she usually feigned.
Her fine, dense eyelashes trembled slightly, but they didn’t appear fragile. Instead, beneath the long lashes, the smile didn’t reach her eyes, revealing a hint of coolness.
Yet the arrow was on the string; it had to be released.
Even if Xiao Jin realized something seemed off, she could only steel herself and continue now.
Xiao Jin had an intuition: if she didn’t speak according to her original thought, this matter would be even harder to conclude.
So she cleared her throat twice and explained: “The ‘Endless Sorrow’ Gu typically hides its worm in the throat. The poison has three stages. The first stage is designed to control a person’s mind, causing a drastic change in character, turning the victim into the user’s puppet.”
“The second stage devours flesh and blood, making the victim emaciated like dry wood, suffering the agony of ten thousand Gu devouring the heart every night. As for the final stage, it can turn a beautiful face into white bones, black hair into white hair, forever dispelling the sorrows of eternity. Hence, it is called ‘Endless Sorrow.’”
Xiao Jin recited the original text from the book, her face calm and composed, showing no emotional fluctuation.
In reality, while speaking eloquently, she was also observing Chu Shao and Su Tan’s expressions.
Throughout, Chu Shao maintained an eternal, unchanging smile, with no overly obvious emotional shifts.
But Su Tan’s reaction was very strange. Her lips were tightly pursed, and her already cold, snow-white face seemed, in a trance, to have become even paler.
From Su Tan’s reaction, Xiao Jin suddenly considered a possibility: that book casually placed on the original host’s shelf might not have been a common text.
So what she thought was public knowledge could actually be a secret unknown to others.
This… was utterly ridiculous.
Xiao Jin was clearly a transmigrator, yet because of certain deviations, she always had the feeling that she had read the original novel, but hadn’t completely read it.
Su Tan’s silence, Chu Shao’s character breakdown, and the Gu poison never described in the original novel. Regarding these things, one couldn’t say the author didn’t explain them; one could only say they were never mentioned.
Xiao Jin suddenly regretted not heeding the advice of that sister in the comment section to quickly read the extras.
Just as Xiao Jin was regretting not reading the extras in time, leading to her ignorance of the plot, Su Tan, standing to the side, had a grave expression, her hands turning cold.
How did Xiao Jin know everything… as if no secret could be kept from her.
The two were completely unaware that they held deep misunderstandings about each other.
The only person present who could still remain clear-headed was Chu Shao.
Chu Shao had seen too many strange things, so regarding Xiao Jin knowing about the “Endless Sorrow Gu,” she actually didn’t find it particularly surprising.
Standing next to the corpse, she could even ask with a bright smile: “Your Highness has explained ‘Endless Sorrow’ thoroughly, but your knowledge of the Gu’s three stages of toxicity seems to have no great relation to your identifying the worm as a Gu worm at a single glance.”
“In other words, you know the toxicity, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you could determine that this worm is a Gu poison. So this humble wife is still very curious: How exactly did you know it was a Gu worm?”
Xiao Jin’s hand, touching the wheelchair armrest, paused slightly.
Seriously? Even such a subtle concept switch of hers could be spotted by Chu Shao?
Hearing Chu Shao’s words, Su Tan frowned slightly, finally realizing that she had just been successfully led astray by Xiao Jin.
Because Xiao Jin had thrown out a topic that shocked her, it made her forget what she was asking originally.
Su Tan asked “why you knew this worm was a Gu worm,” but Xiao Jin answered “this Gu is called Endless Sorrow.”
It seemed articulate, but actually, it was an answer unrelated to the question. She had mystified and bluffed around a big circle, ultimately returning to the original point.
Xiao Jin’s heart was filled with melancholy.
What else could she say? She couldn’t possibly throw a compiled summary of web novel tropes directly at the female lead and second female lead’s faces, could she?
Xiao Jin looked down at the corpse brother on the floor, knowing she was at a loss for words. So she simply threw caution to the wind.
Thus, she didn’t answer Chu Shao’s question but instead pushed her wheelchair.
The wheels rolled across the floor with a muffled sound.
Placed in the dark chamber full of stench and cadaverous air, except for her slightly pale complexion due to her severe illness, Xiao Jin’s eyes remained calm, nothing like the rumored impatient and temperamental nature.
Looking at this Prince Yan, Su Tan felt that this person was not the “Ghost Rakshasa” who destroyed the Yao Kingdom, but more like a physician holding scrolls, slowly walking through a bamboo grove.
Very strange. In the eyes of Prince Yan of Northern Qi, there was a calmness and compassion inconsistent with her identity.
The wheelchair slowly moved to the assassin’s corpse.
Xiao Jin sat in the wheelchair, gazing at that assassin brother. Her eyes indeed held infinite pity: Thank goodness, brother, you’re lying far enough away for me to push my wheelchair this long and think about how to keep fabricating.
Because Su Tan had worked with the mindset of decoding the assassin’s identity, the corpse was now in pieces, with hardly any good flesh left.
Amidst the mangled mess of flesh and blood, the only intact part was probably his face.
Thus, Xiao Jin could only suppress the urge to vomit and peer into the corpse’s oral cavity.
After staring for a long while, she withdrew her gaze and said deliberately: “As This Prince just said, this person died from the Gu poison ‘Endless Sorrow.’ This poison typically does not enter the victim’s stomach but adheres to the throat. Furthermore, if the corpse were naturally rotting and breeding maggots, the maggots should be white, not black like this Gu worm.”
“Moreover, the oral cavity has small wounds distributed inside. The wounds are very strange, faintly oozing blood, as if gnawed by some kind of insect.”
Speaking up to this point, Xiao Jin frowned again and coughed violently twice.
After wiping the blood from her lips with a brocade handkerchief, she cleared her throat. Although her voice was slightly hoarse, her words were firm and forceful.
“From this, This Prince can conclude that this worm is definitely a Gu worm. And the wounds inside the mouth should be the marks left by the Gu worm trying to crawl out of the deceased’s tightly shut mouth after death, gnawing in the process.”
Xiao Jin ignored the astonished looks the two people cast her way.
She thought, what’s there to admire? It’s just picture-talking. Anyone could do it.
But in reality, her eyes sparkled with the light of wisdom. The desire to show off in front of the protagonists was extremely strong.
As if possessed by some character, Xiao Jin extended her fingertip, stroked the pale cyan pattern on the teacup, and then slowly recited that classic line.
“Then, there is only one truth—”
Xiao Jin raised her hand and pointed instead at the fragrance pill Su Tan had placed on the table, saying to the two: “This fragrance pill is problematic.”
