[Poison Timer: 02:00:00]
Jun Ruoshui's chest tightened as he read the system's stark warning: only two hours remained before the toxin ravaging his bloodstream would claim him.
He cast a quick glance at Jiang Xue. The young master's face held only confusion and hurt—not the look of someone complicit in murder. Had Jiang Xue known the wine was tainted, he would have recoiled immediately. Ruoshui's heart sunk at his own recklessness: the system flagged the wine as significant but never explicitly ordered him to drink. He'd ignored the final couplet's warning:
"I offer you a cup of wine—yet drink not the chill of river‑snow." That line should have screamed caution.
Regret was a luxury he couldn't afford. He summoned inner calm and checked his status display: Health Points were steadily declining, but without pain or dizziness. The poison worked in slow phases—he still had precious time.
He inhaled deliberately and outlined his plan:
Every step now carried weight. He must move with precision, alert to every rustle and shadow.
System clues were his guide. So far: Jiang Xue was unaware, the poison came from a third party, and his current quest was clear: Protect Jiang Xue.
Identify the puppeteer. Were the attempt on Jiang Xue's life and the looming threat from the quest tied to a single mastermind? Or did multiple conspirators each have cause to kill him?
His thoughts circled the system's cryptic hint: "One cup, three distinct flavor notes." Layered toxins? Or separate poisons spiked sequentially? If staggered, the victim would endure prolonged suffering. If blended by multiple hands, betrayal ran deeper.
A distant shout cut through the night:
"Third Brother—!""Third Brother—!"
The summons jolted Ruoshui into action. He needed a vantage point—somewhere to observe without being seen, ready to defend when danger struck.
One last look at Jiang Xue: the boy stood by the stone table, twisting his sleeve with wounded innocence. He had watched Ruoshui drink the wine and now studied him with silent accusation. Ruoshui mustered a reassuring smile; color returned to Jiang Xue's cheeks. In that moment, Ruoshui vowed to shoulder the poison rather than see the youth's bright spirit dimmed.
Another voice called:
"Third Brother—your brother‑in‑law awaits!"
A flicker of disgust crossed Jiang Xue's face. The man he loathed most—his brother‑in‑law—had come to torment him again.
Ruoshui stood, dusting off his cloak. In a low, urgent voice he said, "If you wish to hide, follow me."
Startled but trusting, Jiang Xue moved as Ruoshui swept the jade flask and cup into his satchel. Ruoshui bowed: "This wine is too perilous to remain here." Without waiting, he vaulted over the railing and vanished into the shadowed grove.
Within a tangle of bamboo, Ruoshui crouched, finding a concealed perch that overlooked both the pavilion and the riverbank path. He sank into silence, every sense keyed for threat. If Du Yan or worse approached, Ruoshui would strike from the darkness to protect Jiang Xue.
He exhaled slowly. Why seize the wine vessels? First, to deny Jiang Xue another dose. Second, objects carried out often transformed into quest items—he wondered what form these jade relics might take.
Alone again in the pavilion, Jiang Xue tugged at his robes, mind tangled by the wine's disappearance: "That jade flask… its craftsmanship must be priceless." He chastised himself: Focus, not greed.
A sudden recall struck him: "When the stranger arrived, his bamboo staff tapped the stone floor—so clear it felt like something fragile shattered." A chill ran down his spine. Before he could delve further, another call rang out:
"Third Brother!"
He rose reluctantly, smoothed his robes, and stepped out to face his tormentor.
Below, Du Yan swaggered forward. Arms crossed, he beamed with malicious glee.
"There you are! While guests await, you hide by the water's edge—have you forgotten your manners?"
Jiang Xue turned his head, refusing to meet Du Yan's mocking gaze.
Du Yan leaned closer, voice low and teasing: "Miss Han fled on her wedding night—and everyone suspects she came here. So tell me, have you hidden her yourself?"
Shock blazed in Jiang Xue's eyes.
"Impossible," he whispered.
Du Yan chuckled, savoring the moment. "Letters can be forged. I saw Brother Jiang burning papers—perhaps he swapped her letter for a fake. But who else would have such cunning hands?"
Humiliation and rage warred in Jiang Xue's chest. "Be silent!" he snarled.
Du Yan feigned sympathy: "I know you're gentle, Third Brother. But know this: your sister‑in‑law really did flee the Jin estate. My visit was no courtesy call—it was a trap to lure her out."
Jiang Xue's heart pounded. Memories of Han Suwen's resolute letter—her promise to uphold honor—crumbled under Du Yan's accusations. Betrayal cut deeper than any blade.
Hidden in the grove, Ruoshui absorbed every word. The web of intrigue had tightened: forged letters, a vanished bride, a scheming brother‑in‑law—and the poison coursing through Jiang Xue's veins. His mission was clear: he must protect the youth from both the assassin's toxin and the poison of familial betrayal.
He pressed his back against a bamboo stalk, drawing in the cool night air. The clock ticked on, each second drawing him closer to the poison's full effect and whatever calamity awaited.
Ruoshui's eyes narrowed. Protect Jiang Xue—the quest's command echoed. When the moment came, he would step from the shadows and stand between Jiang Xue and every threat, mortal and kin alike.
A silver sliver of moon broke through drifting clouds, illuminating Ruoshui's determined gaze. The true trial had only just begun.