Chapter Thirty-Three: The Exit of Life

Under Qian Xiner’s curious gaze, Di Ying reached out and felt her pulse. Remaining in a crouched position, he looked up at her, his smile deepening, bright and radiant.

“It seems your father truly did much for you. If I say your condition isn’t serious, would you want to hit me?”

Hearing this, Qian Xiner couldn’t help but laugh—a shy, gentle laugh, shallow yet genuine, springing from a place of heartfelt joy. Still, she was deeply surprised.

“Sir, are you… are you telling the truth? It’s really not serious?”

It had been so long since she’d looked in a mirror, nor dared touch her face. Each night she went to sleep in despair, waking from dreams in tears. Even washing her face, she’d cup water in her hands and splash it, hurriedly covering her face with layers of silk before discarding them. Were it not for her father—still imprisoned, and her only motivation—she would have long since crumbled.

And today, she heard one piece of good news after another from the man before her, her heart trembling with excitement, anxiety, and disbelief.

“It’s truly not serious. Of the physicians who treated you before, two were especially diligent. Later, I’ll write you a prescription; we’ll take it slow, try to repair what we can.

Don’t worry anymore. Accept things with peace of mind, so I can tend to your father’s case without distraction, all right?”

Di Ying smiled, answering with certainty and gentle persuasion.

The human body is a strange thing. It senses acceptance and rejection alike. If you stubbornly refuse to eat, your body decides the stomach is no longer needed and signals the rest to reject it, even severing the nerve responses. Like a shop—if you make no contribution, the owner will dismiss you.

Qian Xiner needed to accept the current state of her face. Embrace it, tolerate it; when it feels needed, it will assist in self-repair.

Di Ying explained this principle in a way she could understand.

Encouraged by his warm smile, Qian Xiner raised her trembling hands to her face, bravely beginning to touch it, bit by bit.

Under her fingers—uneven, rough, broken skin, as if a field had been dug over, messy and painful to the touch.

But she smiled.

Cupping her face, she wept with joy.

She knew she was still very, very ugly, but she also knew her condition had improved greatly.

Di Ying couldn’t help himself in the end; he gently patted the girl’s shoulder and gestured for the old steward to bring her water. Then he went aside, took a writing tube and a short, fine brush from his coat, wrote a prescription, left ten taels of silver, and quietly left the small courtyard with Peng Liang. At this moment, it was best to let the girl be alone for a while.

Once outside the Qian residence, Di Ying turned back, intending to say something to Peng Liang, only to meet his starry eyes, burning like fire.

Di Ying paused in surprise.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

Peng Liang pressed his lips, his eyes shining but tinged with red at the corners. He shook his head in silence.

Di Ying didn’t ask further. The thoughts of men are unfathomable.

He untied the horses while speaking, “Let’s go back. We should visit that cosmetics shop’s workshop.”

Peng Liang nodded, following his lead.

After they had ridden out of the town, Peng Liang, returned to his usual self, asked curiously, “Sir, did you find evidence?”

“Mm, in a manner of speaking,” Di Ying replied with a slight nod. After a moment’s thought, he added, “Judging from the scars on Qian Xiner’s face, the rouge at the time contained a flower from a locally rare herb.

The plant is highly toxic throughout. It can cause itching, blisters, and ulcers on the skin, or in severe cases, blocked nasal passages and blindness. Fortunately, its toxicity intensifies with sunlight, and since Qian Xiner scarcely went outdoors afterward, no worse consequences resulted. Those two doctors may not have understood the cause, but they treated her with care and promptness, preventing the spread of the poison.

So, her skin can still be saved—it will take time, but the worst is past and she needn’t fear the sun. There’s little poison left.

We need to inspect the workshop. If we find that plant, it will serve as direct evidence for the case.”

“Is it because the plant is especially rare?” Peng Liang followed up.

From Di Ying’s words, it seemed only something uncommon could qualify as evidence.

“Yes,” Di Ying nodded. Having done so, he pulled the reins and instructed Peng Liang, “Look into where the shop’s workshop is, and where their flower fields are located.

If my guess is correct, it should be outside the southern suburbs of Capital City. I’ll ride around from here; once you’re done, meet me at the southern gate.”

Peng Liang nodded, glanced at Di Ying with concern, and rode off at speed.

Sensing Peng Liang’s worry for his safety, Di Ying smiled, turned his horse, and in the wind, snow, and cold, rode from the west side of Capital City toward the south.

He had a habit: wherever he went, he would draw his own maps and learn as much as possible about the climate, environment, and soil—especially for Capital City and its surroundings.

When he came to take the imperial examinations years ago, during the days of waiting for the results, he’d explored everywhere.

The soil suitable for that poisonous plant exists only outside the southern suburbs of Capital City.

People often say: humans are inferior to dogs.

In truth, between rich and poor, people are not only less than dogs, but even less than a blade of grass in a wealthy household.

Human life is indeed cheaper than grass.

Grand households typically build greenhouses—high on three sides of brick, lower on the south side, topped with wood, covered with oilcloth and blankets. Charcoal stoves provide warmth as needed. The manpower, wealth, and resources consumed are immeasurable.

To run such a cosmetics shop, especially one supplying tribute to the emperor, they must cultivate vast fields of flowers outside the city. In winter, they build many greenhouses to ensure a steady supply of raw materials.

Though the poisonous grass is deadly, its growing conditions are stringent: years of high heat and humidity. Its roots are so prolific that it’s nearly impossible to eradicate. In other words, once it takes root, even if you cut it down, so long as a single thread remains and conditions are right, it will keep growing.

Di Ying didn’t know how the plant found its way here, but at least, he was glad it was that particular one.