Chapter 32: Scheme 32 Part 1

After the rest day, Qin Xiang began studying at the Imperial Medical Academy.

Meanwhile, the Ministry of Justice received a case, and Gu Huangying headed to General Ma’s residence.

At the same time, the Director led Qin Xiang to Guanju Palace to change Commandery Princess Wenchang’s wound dressing. A scar on the face could ruin a girl’s entire life, and the Director took it seriously, hoping Qin Xiang could learn.

The master and disciple strolled to Guanju Palace. Qin Xiang carried the medicine chest, wearing the Academy’s official robe, trotting happily behind her teacher.

Entering the hall, the Director took the princess’s pulse while Qin Xiang observed. The wound on the princess’s face had scabbed—somewhat gruesome.

The Director applied medicine, gave a few instructions, and led her new disciple away.

Zhao Yang suddenly spoke: “Imperial Physician Qin.”

Qin Xiang didn’t react, still following her teacher. It was the Director who noticed first, patting her apprentice’s shoulder. “She’s calling you.”

How someone this dense had won the Prime Minister’s heart was a mystery.

Qin Xiang turned. Zhao Yang met her dazed expression. The youth had a pair of lovely dimples and features bright enough to rival the sun.

In terms of looks, Zhao Yang had to admit this was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. But in cultivation and learning, any scholar in the capital could run circles around him.

Zhao Yang deliberated, then smiled. “Imperial Physician Qin said you can remove scars?”

Qin Xiang started to nod. The Director interjected: “She’s still learning. She cannot diagnose, cannot prescribe. That’s Academy policy.”

Qin Xiang was caught off guard, not knowing what to do. But she had offered to help that night.

While she hesitated, Zhao Yang shifted her soft body on the couch, slowly rose, and walked to stand before Qin Xiang. Up close, the youth’s skin was snow-white, smooth as a peeled egg.

She didn’t doubt Yun Qian’s taste, and she knew the person before her was extraordinarily beautiful.

Beside such radiance, even women paled.

Who wouldn’t like such a face? But she also knew Yun Qian’s feelings for Qin Mo weren’t as simple as liking.

Yun Qian’s heart was as hard as black iron. How could she fall for a nameless boy?

Love was not for Yun Qian.

“Imperial Physician Qin, you said you could remove the scar. What, going back on your word?”

“The Academy will develop a scar-removing ointment for the Commandery Princess.” The Director took over, signaling Qin Xiang to step back.

Qin Xiang’s specialty was: obedience.

Between breaking a promise and following her teacher’s orders, she chose the latter.

Qin Xiang silently withdrew, not meeting the princess’s eyes, accepting the Director’s kindness.

Zhao Yang laughed lightly: “So what the Prime Minister likes is a man without a shred of responsibility?”

The mockery made the Director frown. Of course it wasn’t that simple. She said calmly: “If the Commandery Princess has no further instructions, your subject will return to the Academy.”

Qin Xiang followed the Director out.

Outside Guanju Palace, the Director warned Qin Xiang again: “Remember: until you’ve completed your training, do not act. Even if someone dies before your eyes, do not act.”

“Why?” Qin Xiang didn’t understand. Lives were at stake!

The Director explained: “A physician’s duty is to save lives. But your life is also a life. Save yourself before you save the world.”

Qin Xiang understood at once and nodded solemnly.

Back at the Academy, the Director had Qin Xiang identify medicinal herbs—how to distinguish them, what they did.

Qin Xiang answered everything. During her years with the Qin family, the most she’d learned was about medicinal herbs. Qin Mo’s illness required many herbs, and she’d used the opportunity to learn them all, knowing their effects.

The Director was pleased with her. The Prime Minister was right—she only lacked experience.

In the afternoon, the Director went to the main hall to take the Empress Dowager’s pulse, leaving Qin Xiang to dry herbs and read medical texts.

Many physicians were on day duty at the Academy, sitting in small groups discussing pulse cases and illnesses. Qin Xiang pricked up her ears.

Someone said: “Is the blood of that woman in the Palace of Compassionate Peace truly so extraordinary?”

“That’s not our concern. The Empress Dowager has folk physicians making Beauty-Nourishing Pills. She’s taken several—they say her spirits are much improved, and her wrinkles have diminished.”

“It really works?”

Qin Xiang caught a few phrases and instinctively gripped her own wrist. Had someone from Warm Valley also come out?

She was dazed, listening to a few more snatches without learning whether the woman was from Warm Valley. She’d ask her sister when she got home.

She’d work it in subtly.

Physicians could only leave at the appointed time. Yun Qian came home quite early, having promised Qin Xiang she’d make dumplings—but yesterday’s Ministry of Justice business had gotten in the way.

The moment she entered the gate, she saw Old Madam Yun, furious, leaning on her cane. Behind her stood an elderly man.

She recognized him—the Qin family’s old steward.

She smiled silently. Old Madam Yun snapped: “Wretch! What are you laughing at?”

“Laughing at something amusing.” Yun Qian beckoned to her steward, who hurried over. She said, “Seize him. Bind him.”

The moment the words left her mouth, the steward directed several servants to tie up the Qin family steward and stuff a cloth in his mouth.

The move startled Old Madam Yun so badly her face changed. She raised her cane and struck at Yun Qian. Yun Qian didn’t dodge. The wooden cane cracked against her arm, making her flinch—but she smiled instead. “Mother, do you know what death by beating is like?”

Old Madam Yun stopped swinging. She stumbled back in shock, suddenly not recognizing her own daughter.

Yun Qian advanced step by step, saying: “Beat him to death.”

“How dare you—” Old Madam Yun tried to maintain her authority, but she was already hollow—all bark, no bite.

Yun Qian’s smile deepened. Her eyes were cold and merciless, her porcelain skin gleaming. She stopped before her mother. “I know everything he’s done. You think that because you know a secret, you’ll leave this residence alive?”

Old Madam Yun stared at her daughter’s calm face and belatedly regretted: “He’s a common citizen. He’s done no wrong.”

“Is that so? No wrong? Harassing the residence’s son-in-law, sowing discord. I am the Prime Minister. Killing one person is simple. You may report me if you like. But you should know—my hands aren’t clean.” Yun Qian exhaled slowly. “I’ve grown very impatient.”

In the shadowed depths of Yun Qian’s pupils, Old Madam Yun was like a drowning person, face upturned, gasping for air. “I’m your mother! I carried you for ten months and bore you! How can you treat me like this?”

“A parent who loves their child plans for their future. Did you plan for mine? My father had barely died when you rushed to remarry. That’s your business. But why did you abandon me? You showed no motherly love, so I owe you no filial duty. And let me tell you: if you dare breathe a single word of what you know today—if you tell anyone—and I find I can’t touch you, I’ll make sure every member of the Xun family dies. One by one.”

Yun Qian stood with her hands behind her back, elegant as a painting, hair like clouds. Her soft voice carried the deep restraint of someone who had cultivated patience for years.

Old Madam Yun, born a noble lady herself, had now resorted to underhanded schemes—utterly lacking in noble bearing.

“You—you are so heartless!”

Yun Qian shook her head, her brows pressing down over eyes dark with undercurrents. She smiled lightly. “Just learning a little from Mother.”

“She’s a woman! And a base slave—”

“Silence.” Yun Qian’s rebuke cut through. “What are you? A daughter raised by the Cheng family in the six gentlemanly arts, in poetry and ritual. You know shame, yet you repeatedly commit shameless acts. She is clean and pure—far more than you.”

Yun Qian stood tall, her posture impeccable, staring down her mother.

Only now did Old Madam Yun realize what people meant when they spoke of Prime Minister Yun—a woman of icy depths, cold by nature, ruthless in method.

Her fury turned to fear. She gazed at her daughter with timidity.

Yun Qian’s next words: “Please, Old Madam, stay for a few days.”

This time, Old Madam Yun could stay openly. But she didn’t want to. She stared in terror: “What are you planning? You want to keep me prisoner?”

Yun Qian ignored her, beckoning to the steward, who promptly dragged the Qin family’s old man toward the gatehouse.

Inside the gatehouse, doors and windows shut tight. The steward threw the man down and pulled the cloth from his mouth.

After what he’d just witnessed, the old steward understood perfectly: the Prime Minister would fight her own mother for Qin Xiang’s sake.

“What’s your name?”

“Qin An, servant of the Qin family.”

Yun Qian asked: “How old was Qin Xiang when she was bought?”

“Over nine.”

“Where was she bought from?”

“A merchant of the Northern Frontier. They said they’d purchased her from the Northern Frontier. She’d saved someone’s life—that’s why my master bought her.” Qin An kept his head low, wary.

Yun Qian caught the phrasing. “You mean there was a buyer before?”

Qin An nodded.

Fury rose in Yun Qian’s chest. “What was she like when you bought her?”

“The Qin family treated her well—food, clothing, lodging, all in the manner of a proper young lady. When she was bought, Qin Xiang was terribly thin, sallow and gaunt. She’d never tasted anything good. She didn’t dare raise her head around people. The Qin family raised her to where she is now. She shouldn’t bite the hand that fed her.” Qin An was indignant.

Yun Qian explained: “The Lin family’s daughter is destined for the harem as an imperial consort. She never intended to marry your young master. As for her staying in the capital—don’t worry. I’ll send physicians to the Qin family to treat your young master. As for your loose tongue…”

She paused and smiled coldly.

Qin An bowed his head. “Prime Minister, spare me. What else do you wish to know? I’ll tell you everything.”

“Can you find the seller or the previous buyer?” Yun Qian asked. She was curious whether the previous buyer had genuinely been cured and then sold Qin Xiang—or whether no previous buyer existed at all, fabricated by the Northern Frontier merchant to fool the Qin family.

“Can’t find them. It’s been seven or eight years. How could we find them now?” Qin An was nervous. He glanced at the Prime Minister, not understanding how she’d taken a liking to that dull child.

Qin Xiang was pretty enough, but her personality was utterly charmless—stupid and lacking any social awareness.

“Are there other women like Qin Xiang?”

“No. To be honest, we kept it secret. Such girls are in high demand. Qin Xiang’s blood is genuinely useful—not only can it heal, but Qin Xiang also made some Beauty-Nourishing Pills to please the madam, who found them very effective.” Qin An answered.

In this exchange, Yun Qian gained a clear picture of Qin Xiang’s life in the Qin family: walking on eggshells, no freedom, and whenever Qin Mo had an attack, Qin Xiang suffered along with him.

This was what Qin Xiang called “very good.”

Perhaps compared to the previous household, the Qin family giving her food and clothing was indeed “very good.”

The word “good” stabbed into Yun Qian’s heart like a blade, stirring a storm.

She stared at Qin An: “Is her blood really effective?”

Qin An, head bowed, couldn’t see Yun Qian’s dark expression. He answered: “My young master’s illness has greatly improved because of her.”

Qin Xiang had consumed medicinal herbs since childhood, giving her blood a unique quality. Warm Valley contained tens of thousands of herbs, making their people’s constitutions extraordinary.

Innocent men may perish for holding jade.

Yun Qian’s brow was tightly knit. She wanted to kill this man before her. Qin An was still congratulating himself that the Qin family had bought Qin Xiang and saved their young master’s life.

She was a person. Her parents were innocent. She wasn’t born into slavery—she was the clean, honest daughter of a good family.