"Are you out of your mind? Why would you volunteer to swallow those bugs to test the prescription on yourself? Even if you're trying to woo the girl, surely there should be some limits?"

Zhenghuan's deputy and best friend, Mingshen, had arrived in Zhuiya at daybreak, and was not at all pleased with the news he had received. He stared at Zhenghuan incredulously, not quite believing what he just heard.

The Shadow Lord leaned across the table and smacked Mingshen across the head. "Stop spouting nonsense," he chided. "I'm not doing this because of her." Not only because of her anyway.

"Then get someone else to do it. There's a whole city of infected people, why can't you test the prescription on one of them?"

"Because we don't know whether or not the prescription will work, and even if it does, what the side effects might be. We cannot use the innocent city folk as dispensable tools to test something that we're not confident of."

Mingshen groaned, banging his forehead against the table. "So you're going to be the dispensable one? The king will be livid when he finds out," he said. "You're saying that you don't know whether it'll work, and that there might be severe side effects, so please, I'm begging you, get someone else to do it. This kingdom cannot do without the Shadow Lord."

Zhenghuan shook his head. "We do have a few willing volunteers, but I will still be the first to test the remedy. That is the quickest way to instil trust in it. The last thing we want is for there to be a riot within the city because the people think that we're feeding them poison to kill them sooner," he said.

Even with the seven days of borrowed time, tensions were still high within Zhuiya and already several scuffles had broken out around the city gates. Things had only settled when it was publicly announced that the Shadow Lord would personally test the gu-du remedy, before anything was administered to the people.

"And what if it fails? What if it really doesn't work?"

"Then there is no hope for Zhuiya. If that happens, I want you to evacuate all the healthy people from the city and place them in quarantine. I've already instructed the men to start setting up the quarantine camp two miles north of the city." Zhenghuan stared soberly across the table at Mingshen. "And then I want you to lock Zhuiya from the outside."

Mingshen's jaw dropped. "Everyone left behind will die—including you."

"If this fails, then everyone infected is dead anyway. When that moment comes, our priority is to stop the gu-du from spreading beyond Zhuiya. Containment is the only way."

Yes, it was cruel, because it meant that all hope had been discarded and they were no longer going to try to save those infected, but such was the harsh reality of life. This was already the best that he could do.

He smiled and got up from his seat, patting Mingshen on the shoulder as he moved past and walked over to the window. "But it's too premature to worry about all that. We still have some time. I believe Zi-ning will be able to produce a remedy that works," he said.

"I'm afraid I don't share the same trust in her abilities," Mingshen replied drily. "I suppose this is what they mean when they say love clouds your judgement."

Zhenghuan turned and shot his friend a disdainful glare, but he did not deny anything. Mingshen was not altogether wrong. While the people of Zhuiya might be left with no other options if the remedy failed, he—Du Zhenghuan—did have a choice now. He did not have to be here. His instructions were to escort Zi-ning and the imperial physicians to the city, and after that, he was free to continue on his way to Anyang to reunite with his adopted father and the Du family army. It was his choice to do otherwise.

He couldn't leave her here to face this on her own.

"You said that the message came from the tribes?" Zhenghuan asked, directing the conversation back to the original reason why Mingshen had come in the first place.

The information network run by Mingshen under the guise of his flourishing jewellery business had recently retrieved a message, purportedly containing correspondence between the mysterious Eagle Warrior of the southern tribes and his collaborator within Duan. Mingshen had immediately set off to deliver the message to Zhenghuan in Anyang, only to discover upon reaching Anyang that Zhenghuan had yet to arrive there at all. Making an educated guess, Mingshen had then rode all the way here to Zhuiya, and the message in question lay in a small rolled-up length of parchment that he was now flipping between his fingers.

"So it seems. It's in a code that's traditionally used by the Xifeng people, and we all know who the chief advisor of the Eagle Warrior is," Mingshen replied.

The Xifeng people were a small tribe of the southern fringes that were close to extinction, having suffered heavily from bloody civil strife between the different tribes one generation ago, before the rise of the Eagle Warrior unified these warring tribes under one banner. Grateful to the Eagle Warrior for his intervention, the survivors of Xifeng pledged their loyalty to him, and their highest-ranking shaman, a cunning figure known as Sunbaye, became the Eagle Warrior's chief advisor and most trusted underling.

The decoded message was simple. There were only a few measly characters on the sheet: seven days.

Seven days for what?

It seemed too coincidental that the message contained the exact number of days that Zi-ning had bartered with the people of Zhuiya. The only explanation was that someone from Duan was trying to convey this deadline to the southern tribes, so that they could plan their next move. There were spies within the city. Traitors who were colluding with their enemies.

"What happened to the messenger?" Zhenghuan asked.

"Dead. Killed himself when he was intercepted, so we couldn't get any information from him. Seemed to be from the southern tribes though, judging from the totem tattoo he had on his left arm. At least we intercepted the message, so they won't be receiving this bit of information."

Zhenghuan stared out of the window, pondering over the latest development. Then he said, "The spies who are working for the southern tribes will no doubt try to sabotage our attempts to rescue the city within these seven days. I want you to lead a group of men and try to locate the source of the gu-du and get rid of it. Even if Zi-ning's prescription works, we still need to remove the threat from its source, else there'll be a resurgence in no time. Start with the city's water sources and food supplies. Also, there's one more thing I'm going to do." He walked back to Mingshen and bent over, whispering his plan into his friend's ear.

#

Zi-ning stared down at the clear, golden liquid in the bowl, anxiety creating storm waves inside her. After five failed attempts at brewing the River Immortal's prescription, she had finally succeeded. At long last, the colour, texture and fragrance of the medicine was exactly as what was recorded in the manual.

There was only one day left before the seven days elapsed. If this bowl of medicine did not work, then she would have failed.

And Zhenghuan would die.

She carefully transferred the bowl to a wooden tray and carried it to Zhenghuan's room. Before she reached the door, she heard loud hacking coughs coming from within.

Zhenghuan had ingested the gu-du early this morning, once she sent word that the brewing of the medicine had finally worked. When she pushed open the door and entered the room, the first thing she saw was his pallid demeanour, that could not be concealed even with the silver mask he still wore across his face. He was sitting on the bed, clutching on to the wooden bedframe as he retched into a bronze basin that was being held by Zhang Mingshen. Her heart clenched. The gu-du had taken effect far quicker than she had expected.

When he saw her enter, he wiped his mouth with a clean cloth and greeted her with a smile. "You're here," he said, beckoning for her to bring the medicine over. "I haven't been sick in a long while, so I'd forgotten how terrible it feels to be this ill. I'm quite looking forward to a speedy recovery."

Besides Zhenghuan and Mingshen, the mayor of Zhuiya and three imperial physicians were also in the room. The physicians exchanged nervous glances as they watched Zi-ning approach.

She placed the wooden tray down on the bedside table, and Zhenghuan immediately reached out for the bowl.

"Wait," Zi-ning said, placing her hand over Zhenghuan's arm. The innocuous bowl of golden liquid shimmered playfully, as if daring her to go through with this. She looked directly into Zhenghuan's eyes, fear and apprehension gnawing away inside her mind.

Sensing her hesitation, Zhenghuan's smile broadened. He removed her hand from his arm, patting it gently. "It'll be fine. I trust you, so I need you to trust me too," he said. Picking up the bowl, he raised it to his lips and drank all the medicine in one gulp.

Silence washed across the entire room as everyone waited for the medicine to take effect. All eyes were on Zhenghuan, who had simply leaned back against his pillow and shut his eyes calmly, as if he weren't teetering on the edge of life and death.

One of the imperial physicians stepped forward impatiently, placing his fingers against Zhenghuan's risk to study his pulse.

"How is it?" Mingshen asked.

"The Shadow Lord's pulse is stabilising! The medicine works!" the physician exclaimed.

Everyone cheered—except Zi-ning. Things were far from over. The goal of the prescription was to help infected individuals purge the gu-du from their bodies, so until Zhenghuan expelled the poison, the battle had only just begun.

Suddenly, as if in response to her doubts, Zhenghuan keeled over, clutching his abdomen in seeming anguish. Then, a torrent of vomit came issuing from his lips and into the bronze basin. Like Ru-an, tiny worms were wriggling in the excrement. Zi-ning quickly squeezed past the imperial physician and took Zhenghuan's pulse herself, relief setting in when she could no longer detect any traces of the worms inside him.

It worked.

Her heart settled a little. The medicine worked. The people of Zhuiya were going to be okay. Zhenghuan was going to be okay.

"What's going on? Is this supposed to happen?" Mingshen demanded.

"Yes, yes," she replied. "We need all the poison to be expelled. If it has, then the medicine has done its job." They would still need to monitor Zhenghuan's condition for a few days to determine whether or not there were any side effects, but for now, it looked like he would recover. Turning to the imperial physicians, she said, "We can begin brewing the medicine for the people, starting with the few who have volunteered to try the prescription. We must hurry."

The physicians nodded, rushing out of the room to carry out their tasks.

Wiping the sweat off her brow, Zi-ning glanced back towards Zhenghuan—just in time to see him throw out a mouthful of blood.