Chapter Two: Princess Zhaohe (1)

When Di Jiang returned to the shop, she saw that Wen Yao had just seen off a customer. The man was impeccably dressed, clearly not an ordinary servant.

Sure enough, as soon as he walked away, Wen Yao eagerly approached Di Jiang, whispering conspiratorially into her ear, “Didn’t I say it? Something’s bound to happen at Lord Rui’an’s estate!”

“Who was that?” Di Jiang asked.

“The steward of Lord Rui’an’s estate. He invited me to the mansion to treat Princess Zhaohe, but I told him you weren’t here and postponed it until tomorrow.”

“Hmm, I see.” Di Jiang placed the jar of wine on the table and said, “A treat for you both—drink sparingly. We have serious work to do tomorrow.”

Seeing the untouched fruit wine return, Wen Yao’s eyes immediately lit up with excitement. At this moment, nothing else mattered; her mind was consumed by thoughts of the wine.

“Thank you, boss!” Wen Yao picked up the wine jar and hurried into the inner room, leaving Shu Xiang alone in the corner, quietly organizing medicinal herbs. Fortunately, Shu Xiang wasn’t fond of alcohol and didn’t even glance up.

“It’s so cold these winter days—I’m incredibly sleepy,” Di Jiang yawned. Seeing that there wouldn’t be much business today, she decided to go back to bed. Unexpectedly, she slept soundly without dreaming and didn’t wake up until noon the next day. If Wen Yao hadn’t come to call her, she might have slept through the afternoon.

“Boss, I did some digging yesterday. I heard that Princess Zhaohe, Wu Jingyi, is quite unruly. Lately, she’s been acting even worse, causing chaos in the mansion and leading to the deaths of several people!”

“Oh?” Di Jiang raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Princess Zhaohe and Lord Rui’an are full siblings, born of the same mother. Not long ago, General Long Ming broke off their engagement. Since then, Wu Jingyi has been staying at Lord Rui’an’s residence. It seems her heartache has made her ill. The old steward says imperial physicians from the palace have already examined her, and nearly all the doctors in Taiping Prefecture have been consulted, yet no one can figure out what’s wrong.”

Di Jiang thought for a moment and said, “It’s likely something unclean—a spirit or curse. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have sought us out.”

“Let’s go take a look.”

“Alright.”

Wen Yao slung the medicine bag over her shoulder, and together with Di Jiang, they walked through the eastern and western markets. After half a day’s journey, they finally reached the end of the bustling district and saw the red walls and green tiles of Lord Rui’an’s mansion. Following the perimeter wall, they walked for quite some time before reaching the main gate. This residence had been bestowed upon Lord Rui’an by the late emperor and was built with utmost luxury—it was like a miniature version of Daming Palace.

The structure of the Wu Mansion followed the traditional layout of imperial gardens, strictly adhering to rigid hierarchical rules. Above the main entrance hung a prominently displayed plaque inscribed with “Wu Mansion.” The six gates were arranged accordingly: the central gate was reserved for Lord Rui’an and officials of equal or higher rank, while the side gates allowed entry for lower-ranking officials. The smallest outermost gates were designated for servants.

As for Di Jiang and Wen Yao, they could only bypass the main gate and enter through a smaller side door used for guests of commoners and servants—the same entrance used by night-soil collectors.

Two armed guards stood beside the small gate. The older guard, recognizing them, asked first, “Are you Doctor Di from Jian Su Medical Clinic?”

Di Jiang nodded.

“The steward informed us. Please come in.” The guard stepped aside and led them inside.

“Thank you.”

Following the guard, Di Jiang and Wen Yao realized that the Wu Mansion was built alongside Jinghe Lake. The eastern section housed the front palace, while the rear garden surrounded the lake, forming a ring of quadrangle courtyards that embraced the water. In the center of the lake stood a man-made island adorned with pavilions and lush trees, connected to the mainland by four white jade bridges facing north, south, east, and west. This design created layered and deep vistas. The craftsmen had ingeniously combined the natural beauty of the lake with the artificial elegance of the garden.

Wen Yao’s eyes widened further, almost popping out of their sockets. She seemed overwhelmed by the extravagance of the mansion and couldn’t contain her excitement, gripping Di Jiang’s arm tightly and whispering, “Boss, isn’t the Wu Mansion far too luxurious?”

The guard walking ahead kept glancing back at Wen Yao, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

Though Di Jiang also found the garden breathtaking, she thought it would be embarrassing to react like Wen Yao. So, she merely coughed lightly, nodded, and remained silent.

“The eastern wing, where Princess Zhaohe is temporarily residing, is just ahead,” the guard informed them.

“Thank you, young man.”

The three of them continued onward, passing through a long corridor until they arrived at a two-story building by the lakeside. However, no sooner had they reached the foot of the stairs than a loud crash erupted from the second floor, accompanied by a woman’s sharp scream. The sound startled Di Jiang and Wen Yao into stopping in their tracks.

“Get out! I’m perfectly fine! I don’t need your diagnosis—get out of my sight!”

“Don’t worry, Doctor Di. It’s nothing serious,” the guard reassured them with a calm smile, continuing to lead them forward.

Almost immediately afterward, hurried footsteps echoed from upstairs. Di Jiang and Wen Yao hesitated to approach further. Soon, three elderly men came stumbling down the stairs, followed by several apprentice herbalists carrying medicine bags.

“It seems what the steward said about seeking renowned physicians wasn’t exaggerated. In such a short time, including myself, there are already four doctors here.” Di Jiang forced a faint smile, trying to ease the tense atmosphere.

The retreating doctors noticed Wen Yao’s medicine box and recognized her as a fellow practitioner. Without saying much, they merely exchanged sympathetic looks before hastily sidestepping around Di Jiang and Wen Yao. Behind them, Steward Liu Changqing waved his hand, holding three money pouches, shouting loudly: “Doctor Zhao, Doctor Qian, Doctor Sun—your consultation fees!”

The three doctors acted as though they hadn’t heard him, fleeing for their lives. Di Jiang and Wen Yao exchanged bewildered glances, finding the situation strange.

What exactly was up there that had frightened them so much they’d abandoned their payment?

As the last doctor passed near Di Jiang, she noticed a gaping wound the size of a bowl on his head, blood gushing out profusely.

“With so much blood loss, will he die?” Wen Yao furrowed her brow.

Di Jiang shook her head, unsure. But seeing how swiftly the doctor moved despite his injury suggested that his terror far outweighed the physical pain.

“Madam Di, this way please.” The guard gestured toward the second floor, showing no intention of accompanying them.

“Aren’t you coming with us?”

The guard firmly shook his head. “I cannot and dare not enter the princess’s chambers.”

“Alright…” After Di Jiang finished speaking, she nudged Wen Yao forward, letting her take the lead.

At this moment, Steward Liu stood at the top of the stairs and bowed to them. “I hope the two esteemed doctors can do their utmost to treat Princess Zhaohe. Lord Rui’an will surely reward you handsomely.”

“Of course! We’ll definitely cure the princess. Leave everything to us!” Wen Yao declared confidently.

Steward Liu gave a perfunctory smile, his expression indifferent. “Thank you very much.”

Clearly, he had repeated these words countless times, but none of the previous doctors had managed to cure the princess. Thus, he didn’t hold much regard for female doctors like Di Jiang and Wen Yao.

Di Jiang noticed his insincerity but chose not to argue, following Wen Yao upstairs instead.

Upon reaching the second floor, the scene before them was one of utter chaos. The door to the princess’s chamber was wide open, revealing both inside and outside littered with debris—broken teapots, shards of glass, fragments of porcelain and ceramics—all smashed beyond recognition.

How desperate must the princess have been to destroy all these precious treasures?

Di Jiang felt a pang of pity looking at the scattered valuables. She nudged Wen Yao, who then strode boldly into the room. Di Jiang followed cautiously, wary of anything that might suddenly fly out and strike her head like it had the other doctors’. Once inside, they saw that everything breakable had already been shattered; only harmless items remained. They finally relaxed slightly.

“Who are you?”

A chilling female voice came from ahead, drawing Di Jiang’s attention to its source.

“Are you Princess Zhaohe?” Di Jiang’s eyes widened as she took in the figure sitting by the window—disheveled hair, glaring eyes, dressed like a madwoman. Any random shrew plucked off the street would look more presentable than her. Both Di Jiang and Wen Yao were stunned.

Moreover, Princess Zhaohe’s body was enveloped in thick black mist, coiling tightly around her like a cocoon, obscuring any trace of imperial aura. Di Jiang knew those black threads were ghostly energy from the underworld, laden with deep resentment that tormented her until she resembled a wraith, emaciated and lifeless. Death was inevitable unless something changed.

“Who are you?” Wu Jingyi sneered coldly, repeating her question.

Wen Yao snapped out of her daze and decided not to beat around the bush. “We’re doctors from Jian Su Medical Clinic.”

“Doctors?” Upon hearing they were physicians, Wu Jingyi went berserk, screaming, “I’m not sick! Why does my brother keep insisting I am?! I’m not ill!! Get out of my sight!!!”

Di Jiang gasped inwardly. If this wasn’t illness, what was?

Unable to tolerate it any longer, Wen Yao cut straight to the point. “You’re right—you’re not sick. How could a dead person be sick?”

“What… What nonsense are you spouting?” Wu Jingyi paled visibly.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Wen Yao remained composed, exuding more confidence than Di Jiang herself.

“You!” Wu Jingyi seethed with anger, searching for something to throw at them. Finding nothing left intact, she could only point her trembling fingers at them, yelling, “Get out! I don’t want to hear your nonsense! Leave!”

“We’ll leave if you wish, but the next visitors won’t be doctors. You know how much Lord Rui’an cares for you. Once he exhausts all options and still can’t cure you, the next ones won’t be ordinary people.”

After Wen Yao spoke, Wu Jingyi suddenly fell silent. Standing motionless, she responded coldly, “If they’re not ordinary people, who could they be?”

“Taoist priests.” As soon as Wen Yao finished, Wu Jingyi burst into laughter—a wild, derisive laugh.

“Taoist priests? I’m not afraid of even Lord Yama himself. Do you think I’d fear those fraudulent charlatans?”

“Some may be frauds, but others are genuine. You’ll meet them eventually.”

“Hmph, let them come then.” Wu Jingyi feigned indifference, but her previously aggressive demeanor had vanished, replaced by an ashen pallor paler than death itself.

“My name is Wen Yao, the attending physician at Jian Su Medical Clinic. This is our proprietor.” Wen Yao stepped aside, pushing Di Jiang forward to face Wu Jingyi.

Di Jiang broke her silence, offering a friendly smile to Wu Jingyi. “My name is Di Jiang, and I’m also a doctor.” Pausing briefly, she added, “I don’t treat humans—I treat ghosts.”