Volume One, Chapter Seven: It Is the Blessing You’ve Earned Over Many Lifetimes

Su Zhizhi cleared her throat and spoke in a low voice, “You don’t have to pay a single coin to your prince’s residence for now, but the IOU must be written. If this humble minister cures your prince, your residence must repay me ten thousand taels of gold within five years. And note, this is a personal debt of mine!”

“As long as you can save my prince, we are willing to offer our lives in repayment,” the young attendant at the forefront said earnestly, his forehead bruised from bowing repeatedly. Su Zhizhi sighed with pity.

If this young man lived in her previous world, he could have debuted as a handsome idol. Why waste himself as a mere servant, one without even a monthly stipend?

“You... you with the swollen eyes and bruised forehead, what’s your name?” the minister asked.

The attendant quickly knelt and bowed his head. “At attention, my name is Lizheng. ‘Li’ as in standing tall, ‘Zheng’ as in upright and kind. You may call me Little Li.”

“Is ‘At Ease’ your younger brother?” Su Zhizhi laughed at her own joke.

“Enough nonsense, Little Li, take me to the prince’s residence at once.”

“Yes, Minister!” Little Li replied with joy.

The carriage soon stopped in front of the Jin Prince’s mansion.

The phoenix trees at the gate were withered and lifeless due to the cold, as if foretelling the rise and fall of the Jin Prince’s household.

The Jin Prince was a fierce warrior, renowned for his valor on the battlefield, his name both feared and respected across the Great Wei kingdom.

He was the war god of the realm and infamous as a devil.

Hearing his name, women across the land would shy away in fear.

But this war god’s fate was tied to his military achievements.

No emperor could tolerate a prince whose merits overshadowed his own—even his own father.

When the birds have all flown, the good bow is put away; when the cunning rabbit dies, the running dog is cooked.

The Jin Prince was the good bow, the running dog in the emperor’s eyes.

After returning to the capital, the Jin Prince was stripped of all military commands by his own father.

Removing the power of a bastard son to secure the position of the legitimate heir was considered natural by the Wei Emperor.

Yet no one expected the Jin Prince to have such ill fortune.

He had barely been idle before his life was nearing its end.

From the moment Su Zhizhi stepped into the Jin Prince’s mansion, a sense of foreboding stirred within her.

The scattered servants were like withered leaves, devoid of any vitality.

The prince’s residence, Zhaoming Hall, was overgrown with weeds—long neglected.

The once glorious and fearsome prince had fallen so low.

Glancing upward, Su Zhizhi saw the snow accumulating on the white walls and green tiles, which made her heart ache.

In her previous life, she had married into this declining Jin Prince’s household.

Abandoned by kin, scorned by the world, she had seen no hope here.

Hence, she ended her miserable life with a white silk ribbon.

Su Zhizhi, you were too foolish and naive.

Would those who died regret it? They would still curse and hate you on your grave...

“Minister, Minister...” Fang Hui poked Su Zhizhi’s back.

“Minister, the prince lies on the bed inside.”

Snapped out of her thoughts, Su Zhizhi gave orders: “Everyone leave. I must not be disturbed while treating the prince.”

“Yes.” The attendants and Fang Hui all left the room.

In her past life, Su Zhizhi never even had a chance to meet the Jin Prince after marrying into his household.

She completed the wedding ceremony alone and spent the wedding night in solitude.

The prince was bedridden and unable to rise.

Women in Great Wei depended on their men for survival; marrying a living corpse was a cruel fate for her past self.

“Wei Guxiao, Wei Guxiao, if fate has allowed you to meet me now, then consider yourself blessed for several lifetimes. Let me see just how wretched this devil prince really is,” Su Zhizhi said calmly, sterilizing silver needles over the candle flame.

As she approached, her hand paused midair.

This was no devil prince from rumors.

He was clearly a celestial incarnate, a living Lanling King.

The man’s closed eyes framed by long lashes, a high bridge nose, pale lips—his naturally perfect features were mesmerizing and strikingly handsome.

How could the goddess Nuwa have crafted such a magnificent being?

What heavenly aura he would possess if he opened his eyes.

After a few needles, Su Zhizhi stared intently—the needles blackened from the poison; the pulse was unstable. The toxin had likely spread throughout his body.

“Wei Guxiao, what kind of demon have you angered to be doomed like this?” she murmured.

During her time at Xuanlin Tower, she had encountered this poison—one of the deadliest she’d ever seen.

And she happened to know the antidote.

Su Zhizhi opened the door. “You may all come in now.”

“小立子, does your prince have any heirs?”

“My prince has never been interested in women. Besides, the princess he married recently was mysteriously poisoned and died suddenly upon arrival. The prince never touched her, so how could there be any heirs?”

Little Li’s sincere answer seemed truthful.

This prince was truly a cursed lone star.

Su Zhizhi sat down and said softly, “The prince has been poisoned with Heart-Eating Toxin. Ordinary people wouldn’t survive three days. Luckily, your prince has a warrior’s constitution; he can endure several months.”

Little Li knelt with a sob. “Minister, is there truly no way to save my prince?”

“I have controlled the toxin within him, but I need the blood of a close relative as a catalyst.”

A close relative? The prince’s birth mother had long passed away. He had a sworn sister, Princess Huayang, but no blood relation, and she was bedridden from the prince’s illness.

The prince’s father was the current emperor, and his only full brother was the crown prince—his enemy. If they refused to give their blood, it would be a blessing. Minister is not suggesting...

That would be a capital offense. The entire household could be wiped out. Little Li shook his head vehemently. “Absolutely not, Minister! To ask the emperor for blood is to risk your head!”

Alas, even blood from direct relatives might not work.

“Very well, then I shall use my own blood.”

Su Zhizhi had tested it at Xuanlin Tower—her blood could serve as the catalyst.

“Fang Hui, bring my tools!”

Fang Hui had seen the minister before at Yongming Pavilion, grinding rare herbs into powder to make pills, then using silver needles to bring people back from the brink of death.

He hurriedly opened the medicine box he carried, which contained many hidden compartments filled with ointments, pills, and silver needles.

Su Zhizhi first offered a prayer, hands clasped and raised above her head, spinning in a circle to create an aura of mystique.

Such theatrics were necessary to maintain her reputation as the world’s top physician.

People loved these imaginary rituals—they were easily beguiled.

She parted the prince’s lips, feeding him a pill.

Then she ordered herbs to be gathered quickly according to her prescription.

The silver needles were inserted one after another, and Su Zhizhi sighed deeply.

“Bring a bowl. We must let the blood flow!”