Chapter 111: The King's Father's Memories

After Zhang Shen’s earnest persuasion, Wang Ying and her mother finally calmed their restless hearts.

Zhang Shen took out three silver needles he had prepared earlier from his pocket, arranging them in order of length. Chanting softly, he rubbed his hands together, channeling his vital energy into his palms in an instant. Then, he carefully inserted the three silver needles into the area around Wang’s father’s knee.

But just as the needles were being inserted, Zhang Shen suddenly realized a troubling fact.

“Auntie, Wang Ying, hold your uncle steady. Try to minimize any movement,” he instructed.

After all, Zhang Shen could hardly imagine the intense reaction Wang’s father might have when the needles were inserted into his ears, considering that even his gentle touch had already caused such a stir.

Hearing Zhang Shen’s words, Wang Ying and her mother positioned themselves on either side of Wang’s father, firmly holding him in place.

“Uncle, I’m about to insert the needles now. Bear with it for a moment—it will be over soon.”

Though Wang’s father looked unwell, his consciousness was relatively clear. He nodded slightly in response.

Seeing his consent, Zhang Shen wasted no time and quickly pushed the three silver needles into the afflicted area. At that moment, he could feel Wang’s father’s body trembling noticeably, though he suppressed it as best as he could.

Zhang Shen gently twisted the tails of the needles, hoping to deepen their contact with the affected spot.

After a few minutes, Zhang Shen withdrew the needles. But the sight before them sent chills down everyone’s spines.

“Poisoned!” Zhang Shen exclaimed.

Examining the tips of the needles, he saw that their surfaces had turned black—a clear sign of toxicity.

“Poisoned?” Wang Ying and her mother echoed in unison.

From their perspective, their family was merely running a dumpling stall. At worst, they had faced some troublemakers collecting so-called “management fees,” but never anything that would bring such a disaster. The news that Wang’s father was poisoned was simply unbearable.

“Have you offended anyone?” Zhang Shen asked sharply.

In his view, the dumpling shop was well-located, and customers came mainly because of Wang’s father’s skill. If a rival had deliberately poisoned him, that would be extreme. But if not, what else could explain this?

Wang Ying and her mother shook their heads. Faced with the sudden poisoning of their family’s pillar, they were at a loss.

“Enough speculation for now. Zhang Shen, since you know it’s poisoning, help my father detoxify him first.”

“Yes! Divine doctor, please save my father—money is no object,” Wang’s mother pleaded, desperate not to lose the family’s cornerstone.

At this moment, Zhang Shen’s heart was filled with conflicting emotions. Detoxification was a complex task, not as simple as elementary arithmetic. First, one must know the poison’s ingredients to apply the correct antidote. Otherwise, futile efforts would be the least of their worries; a misstep could worsen the situation.

But seeing the pair of women before him, Zhang Shen steeled himself and agreed.

“All right, I’ll do it as soon as I can.”

“As soon as you can? We need it now!” Wang Ying snapped.

Though Zhang Shen understood her feelings, detoxification inevitably required time. As he pondered how to explain this, Wang’s father coughed weakly from the bed.

Hearing her father awake, Wang Ying hurried to his side. “Dad, how do you feel now?”

Wang’s father opened his eyes and said, “Daughter, what’s wrong with me? My leg feels numb.”

Wang Ying was momentarily stunned, then gently touched her father’s leg.

“Dad, can you feel this?”

“No.”

She told herself it might be because she was too weak, so she touched his leg again.

“Dad, now?”

“Still nothing.”

Though the cruel truth lay before her, she clung to the faint hope that it was all an illusion.

Then she pressed on the swollen, reddened area on his knee.

“Dad, what about now?”

“Daughter, does this mean I’ll never stand again?”

Wang Ying did not answer but turned to Zhang Shen.

“What exactly is happening?”

Zhang Shen, who had witnessed the scene clearly, shrugged.

“The poison has reached the bone; that’s why your uncle feels this way. How the toxin entered his body is a mystery even to me.”

Hearing this, Wang Ying approached her father. “Dad, Zhang Shen says this is temporary. You should recover in a few days. But he says there’s poison inside you—what does that mean?”

“Poison?” Wang’s father was startled. Then he called out, “Could it be from that time...?”

Wang Ying caught the words clearly. Could her father know who poisoned him?

“Dad, do you know who did this to you?”

In truth, Wang’s father was only guessing, but given his condition, he figured it was better to speak up—just in case anything happened to him, someone would know the truth.

“A couple of months ago, late at night, just before closing, a customer came by wanting to try our dumplings. At first, I didn’t pay much attention and told him we had sold out and suggested he come back tomorrow.”

“And then?”

Wang Ying was eager to hear more.

“Well, as he was turning to leave, your mother came out with two bowls of dumplings. They were meant as our own late-night snack. But the man heard this and turned back, saying he wanted to try them too. Though I told him the truth, he didn’t care and pulled out five hundred silver coins, placing them on the table.”

“And then? Did you accept the money?”

Wang’s father continued, “We thought it was almost closing time, so to avoid trouble, I gave him my bowl, but we didn’t take the money. After eating a few dumplings, he kept praising our skill and said he wanted the recipe. I told him it was all made with care—just simple ingredients, no secrets. But he didn’t believe me. Seeing I wouldn’t tell the truth, he said, ‘We’ll see in two months,’ and left.”

“But just this doesn’t prove he poisoned you!” Wang Ying argued.

To her, that man sounded like a greedy businessman at most, with no clear connection to poisoning.