Fang was a rail thin man, tall but frail looking, in his fifties. His hair was graying and his clothes fit loosely. Like many doctors Lian had met, he looked to be in need of medical advice himself.

"Yes, that's right," he brought his spectacles to his face, taking a long look at Lian himself. "One cup of goat's milk before bed."

"With some additives lately, correct?"

"Hm-hm," he nodded, dropping the glasses and taking a long, slow walk around his office – a simple affair similar to Yao's but with the implements of a physician's office on a long table behind his desk – to approach Lian. "That's right."

"And what additives in particular?"

Fang stopped a few feet away from Lian and repeated his survey of her physiognomy without the aid of glasses. "Why do you need to know?"

"I'm trying to understand what happened last night. Every detail could be important, including just how incapacitated Madam Jingyi may have been. If she wasn't able to fight off her attackers, it could impact how far away they could take her."

"Ah," Fang admitted, seeing the logic of the request. "Well, she couldn't have been too badly knocked out. Poor girl has had trouble falling asleep for almost a year now. All I give her is a small mixture: Zen Ruan herb, a bit of crystallized Gaozu, and some powdered flaxseed."

Lian considered. "That's only two ingredients short of Sleeping Mu, isn't it?"

Fang turned back to continue his long turn round his desk, considering as he walked. "Yes, I suppose so. But I would never give the young lady such a strong sleeping agent. It's quite poisonous if given too often."

"...Has she shown any tolerance to your mixture?"

"No," Fang said, as if surprised himself. "In fact it's retained its utility very well. I can attest to that myself."

"You're taking it too?" Lian asked, pre-empting her question of how he could have stayed asleep despite the maelstrom in the room above him.

"Yes. As I've gotten older I find it harder to sleep. It worked so well on Lady Jinyi," he eased himself into the chair behind his desk, "I've started taking it too. Knocks me out quite soundly."

"So you didn't hear anything last night?"

The older man shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I woke before sunrise, but the first I heard of this was that poor woman screaming."

"Lady Jingyi's servant girl?"

"Yes."

Lian paused a moment, considering all the information for a moment. "So, last night, when you gave the milk with the powder to the servant–"

"Oh I don't give it to the servant," Fang shook his head as if Lian were speaking sheer insanity. "The servant presents the food to the lord or lady, but Master Yao is the food taster for the home. He always takes the mixture from me before it reaches the servant."

The number of doubts Lian had about this entire household only seemed to magnify every few seconds. "A food taster? Isn't that a bit... over the top for a minor Lord like Baodung."

Fang's hackles were instantly raised and he seemed to shed a few years of stiffness as he straightened up in his chair. His voice was defiant. "Lord Baodung is a man of considerable wealth and power in these parts. And he takes the safety and care of his family very seriously. Why, it was only eighty years ago that his great grandfather was poisoned in this very house. The poor man suffered for a week before succumbing."

Lian had a strong suspicion the historical poisoning was nothing more than some bad fish from a polluted local stream, but she didn't want to offend someone with such anachronistic sensibilities as Fang. She brought her hands together and bowed a formal apology. "I'm sorry Master Fang, I meant no disrespect. It's just odd in this day and age for anyone but royalty to employ food tasters."

As she rose to view Fang's acceptance of her apology, she noticed a small painting that sat on the man's desk. Fang waved off her apology and Lian moved a step closer to examine it. The painting appeared to be of Fang, but his hair was thick and black, and his frame was considerably thicker than Fang's current frail disposition.

"Is that your father?" Lian asked, pointing to the painting.

Fang's face took a while to register the question, but when he did the stark gray eyebrows rose up high and Lian witnessed the beginning of a lie. "Um, yes. My father. That was actually him just a few years younger than I am now..." his eyes grew wistful as he dove into the invention. "I'm afraid my own health is not as robust as his was."

"Oh?" Lian prodded, knowing the best way to get to a hint of the truth was to see how a liar shaped their fables.

"Yes. Some sort of stomach cancer I'm afraid. Had it for, oh, the last eight months or so. I can't keep anything down, so I'm afraid I've just started wasting away."

"Nothing you can do about it?"

"Well, I have spoken with several of my colleagues, I mean, corresponded with them, of course. And we seemed to have found a mix of tinctures that help." He paused a moment before needlessly repeating himself. "Yes, the strangest thing. Just can't keep anything down."

"Except the milk mixture of course."

Fang's eyebrows shot up once again and it took him a moment to respond. "Yes, yes, of course. Milk is quite good for balancing out the body's energies though. A warm emulsifier for the body's cooler tendencies, of course. And my body craves the sleep, too, of course. It all works in harmony."

Lian nodded, smiled, and bowed again. "Of course, Master Fang. Thank you for speaking with me. I believe I'll go examine the outside of the building now. If you could speak with Master Yao for me, let him know I'll need to speak to Lord Baodung as soon as possible."

"Oh," Fang's face fell back into truthful uncertainty. "I'm afraid the Lord is quite indisposed, as I'm sure you understand. Such a terrible thing to have happen to such a caring father."

"It is. But I'm afraid I must speak with him. Tell Yao I'll only need a few minutes."

Fang considered it then nodded sagely before slumping entirely into his chair. "I wish you luck then, madam Shuli Go. You must promise to be careful out there."

"Why?"

"There is talk of a five-headed snake on the loose." His voice was nearly as dismissive as Lian's had been when the peasant suggested it earlier that day. Nearly. That slight distance in his voice existed because somewhere in the midst of it was knowledge of something dark and complicated.

"You don't believe those superstitions, do you Master Fang?"

Fang didn't respond, just shook his head slowly, staring straight ahead. Then he righted himself suddenly and lied again. "No. No of course not."

Lian bowed one final time, then returned to the previous subject. "So you're doing better then?"

"Me?" Fang responded abruptly, a small grin flexing the thin muscles under his tight, worn out skin. "Yes, I believe I will be doing better soon. Very soon."

"Good," Lian smiled, content. Content that Fang had just admitted to causing the disappearance of young lady Jingyi.