Chapter 105: Antidote

Aunt Wei stroked the coffin with the palm of her hand and broke down in tears again. That coffin had been prepared for her, yet it had not occurred to her that her son would be the first to lie in it.

It was Wei San himself who had climbed the mountain to cut the timber, who had sawed and planed it with his own hands; it took him several days to finish.

Though Wei San had always been a rough, unruly son, he was deeply filial to his mother. He knew how hard she had labored to raise him. Lacking much to offer his mother in return, he had learned a bit of carpentry and decided to make a coffin with his own hands as a gift to her.

In those days, many poor families could not afford a coffin at all; often a simple mat was the last place a body could call home. But in any household with an elder and even a little means, people would prepare a coffin in advance, for fear that when death came unexpectedly there would be nowhere even to lay one out. So Wei San’s gesture was not an ill omen at all. On the contrary, it warmed his mother’s heart; she had not raised him in vain, and even the neighbors praised the son to the skies.

By evening, Aunt Wei declined everyone’s offer to keep vigil. Truth be told, Wei San’s death had been so terrifying—especially at night, in that eerie courtyard—that people felt uneasy. They exchanged polite words and drifted away one by one.

There were no blood relatives in the Wei household; if there had been, this parting would not have been so easy.

Left alone in the yard, Aunt Wei stared blankly toward the gate. As soon as she thought of her son, her heart twisted in pain, and yet within that grief rose a tiny spark of hope: if what that woman had said was true, she would arrive tonight.

“Thus, that very night, I brought Wei San back to the Mist-and-Rain Pavilion,” Hongjing said with a faint smile. “At first I intended to save him and then report to the young master, but alas—he had swallowed not some arcane poison, only common arsenic, yet in such a quantity and with no immediate treatment, he is alive only in name. These days, he was no better than a living corpse.”

Liu Qin understood that Hongjing had done all she could. She had merely a routine partnership with the Mist-and-Rain Pavilion, and there was no reason for Hongjing to interfere in this affair at all. To offend the unseen hand behind this misfortune without cause was dangerous, yet Hongjing had done it anyway. Liu Qin felt both joy and deep emotion at once and could not find words.

She had not misjudged this woman. She had not made such a friend in vain.

Qing’er, thinking Liu Qin’s silence meant resentment, spoke up in a little frustration, defending her elder sister: “You’re blaming yourself for not saving him when you have been awake two days and nights for this person. Now that it couldn’t be done, it isn’t your fault. If you had done nothing when he first came to harm, there would have been less trouble, and no one could fault you for that.”

“Qing’er, do not babble nonsense.”

Scolded, Qing’er stepped back a little, still muttering, “What nonsense did I say? It’s the truth.”

“Qing’er is not wrong,” said a new voice.

It was Wan Yue, the woman Liu Qin called her beautiful elder sister. Everyone rose and exchanged greetings. Wan Yue then said, “Hongjing had run to Plum Mountain the very night she heard of it; only this morning did she return.”

Hongjing cast Liu Qin a look of apology. “Wei San was poisoned too deeply. Ordinary antidotes had already failed. I heard rumors that Plum Mountain had a herb called shygrass, so I hoped for luck and rushed there, but luck was poor. I searched for two days and found nothing. I had to return and think of other ways.”

Liu Qin moved to Hongjing’s side and took her hand. All her unspoken words condensed to two syllables.

“Sister—”

Hongjing patted Liu Qin’s head gently, her eyes full of concern and fondness. “If the young master can call me sister, then what I have done is only what a sister should do. I only regret I could not truly help him.”

“If you put it that way, sister, does that mean you want me to feel even more guilty?”

Liu Qin’s words made everyone laugh. Wan Yue, after smiling, frowned slightly. “This is no time for pleasantries, Hongjing. Is there truly no other way?”

Hongjing shook her head with heavy reluctance. A thought flickered in her eyes, then faded. “There is not no way, only… a way that is near as good as none.”

“What is there to hide? Speak clearly.”

“It is not that,” Hongjing went on. “If we could find a divine physician and obtain his prepared antidote pills, Wei San could be saved. But you know well, Wan Yue, that this divine doctor appears and vanishes like a spirit; even if one were to find him, he might still refuse to help.”

“You mean Master Hua?” Liu Qin said, delighted. Was she speaking of the same antidote? of Old Master Hua?

“Exactly. In the martial world, only he deserves the title of divine physician. His antidote can neutralize a hundred poisons, and saving Wei San would be no problem. But such pills are rare as jewels. If any mortal comes by one, he keeps it like treasure. They are not easily found.”

Seeing Hongjing’s wrinkled brow and anxious face, Liu Qin let out a soft laugh. Others had none, but she did— and not just one, but an entire little bottle: six pills.

Even Jiang Li and Xiao Wu, whose faces had not looked bright before, now relaxed and sat back in their chairs with relief.

“Hongjing sister, Wan Yue sister, do not worry. I have the antidote.”

Liu Qin moved to Xiao Wu and whispered to him. Xiao Wu nodded, turned, and left the pavilion for the manor.

Jiang Li looked at Liu Qin with mild resentment. Whenever she had business, she never sought me—only Xiao Wu. Did she think my martial arts were no match for him? Since she could ride a horse and come and go with ease, he vowed inwardly that tomorrow he would learn himself. He refused to be inferior.

Over there, hearing that Liu Qin possessed antidote pills, both Hongjing and Wan Yue were deeply surprised and grew more suspicious of her identity. Yet after years in the houses of pleasure, they knew which questions were proper and which were not, and so none dared ask how she had obtained them.

They waited in silence for a while, exchanging only stray words. Hongjing and Wan Yue had wanted her to rest, but Hongjing insisted she would only leave once Wei San was detoxified, and everyone accepted that.

Xiao Wu moved quickly. In less than half an hour he had ridden out and returned.

He handed over the vial to Liu Qin. She gave him a grateful smile, and only then did he relax, slipping to a chair nearby to rest in good humor.

Hongjing took the pills, hands trembling with agitation. A legendary medicine, she breathed, and studied it, then sniffed it, then carried it to Wei San’s lips. She pinched his jaw and gave a slight pressure. His throat twitched, and the tiny pill slid down.

The antidote worked fiercely. In less than half an incense-stick’s time, the blackness on Wei San’s face slowly faded. His complexion turned from black to gray, then to white, then a faint flush of red appeared.

Hongjing lifted Wei San and helped him sit on the bed, then sat behind him, palm flat against his back, sending her inner strength into him to help the medicine take hold.

After a while, Wei San’s mouth opened and a jet of black blood shot out.

This went on several times. After he expelled several gushes of dark blood, the black, ashen deadness vanished from his face. The color was still pale, but his breathing steadied and his chest rose more clearly, even though his eyes remained shut.

Hongjing laid Wei San gently back on the bed and climbed down. “It’s done—the poison has left him. His body is still too weak; with rest he should wake soon.”

She stood from the bed, and in that instant stumbled and fell to the floor.
To be continued.