The gentle rhythmic drip of water from a leaky eave punctuated the oppressive silence of the Azure Crane Palace's dilapidated tea room. It was an otherwise unremarkable evening, the air thick with the scent of simmering herbs from the kitchen and the distant calls of night birds. Tang Liu, propped once more in his usual chair, watched Xiao Qi approach with a small tray bearing his evening tea. Her steps were light, almost imperceptible, but tonight, they held a subtle, anxious tremor that Tang Liu's heightened senses immediately picked up.
The porcelain cup, delicate and translucent, was placed carefully on the low table beside him. A thin wisp of steam curled upwards, carrying the familiar aroma of soothing nightshade and ginseng, but beneath it, Tang Liu's Primordial Physique, exquisitely attuned to impurities and foreign energies, detected a discordant note. A faint, almost imperceptible metallic tang, like rust mixed with a sickly sweetness – the exact same scent he had detected in the 'wedding toast' poison that had obliterated the original prince's soul.
Xiao Qi's hands, as she offered the cup, were visibly trembling, betraying her practiced composure. Her gaze darted, avoiding his eyes, fixing instead on a distant corner of the room. Her mouth was a thin, tight line, and a single bead of sweat traced a path down her temple despite the cool evening air. She was terrified.
Tang Liu's heart remained a stone, his external expression a placid mask of gentle gratitude. He understood. She was being pressured, probably threatened, to finish the job that the initial poisoning had only half-completed. The Nihilist Faction, he suspected, or perhaps the Regent's men, eager to remove the last vestige of the Emperor's direct line.
He reached out a hand, his movements slow and deliberate, faking the effort of a cripple. His fingers brushed against the warm porcelain of the cup. He could feel the residual spiritual energy within the tea, a carefully crafted calming agent meant to lull him into a false sense of security, masking the insidious poison beneath. The poison itself was designed to seep slowly, painfully, into the spiritual pathways of a weakened body, culminating in a silent, irreversible shutdown of all vital functions. It was a refined, cruel death, meant to appear natural.
"Thank you, Xiao Qi," he murmured, his voice soft, almost affectionate. "You are truly diligent." He lifted the cup to his lips, making a show of inhaling its soothing aroma. Xiao Qi's breath hitched, her eyes wide with a desperate, silent plea, or perhaps, a horrified anticipation.
He paused, the cup almost touching his lips, his gaze fixed on a small, potted jade orchid that sat on a nearby sill. Its leaves, a vibrant green, seemed particularly lush tonight. "Xiao Qi," he said, his voice betraying no hint of suspicion, "this orchid… it seems to wither. It needs more care. Perhaps it is thirsty." He gestured vaguely towards the plant.
Xiao Qi, startled by the unexpected diversion, could only stammer, "Your… Your Highness?"
"Take my tea," Tang Liu continued, his gentle smile unwavering, "and water the plant with it. Perhaps the spiritual energies within the brew will do it some good. It would be a waste, would it not, for such a fine brew to go unappreciated?" He extended the cup back towards her, his eyes warm, inviting.
Terror, stark and absolute, flashed across Xiao Qi's face. Her eyes darted from the cup, to the orchid, to Tang Liu's unwavering, unnervingly gentle gaze. She understood the unspoken threat, the chilling implication. He knew.
With trembling hands, she took the cup. Her fingers brushed his, and he felt the frantic pulse in her wrist. She stammered a quiet "Yes, Your Highness," her voice barely a whisper. She shuffled towards the orchid, her movements stiff, almost mechanical. Her hand shook so violently that some of the tea sloshed over the rim, spilling onto her pristine white sleeve.
With a deep, shuddering breath, she poured the tea into the orchid's pot. The liquid soaked into the soil, and for a moment, nothing happened. Xiao Qi let out a small, desperate whimper of hope.
Then, with a sickening crackling sound, the jade orchid withered. Its vibrant green leaves curled in on themselves, turned black, and crumbled to ash within seconds. The pot itself, a sturdy ceramic, developed a spiderweb of cracks, and a faint, acrid smoke curled upwards, filling the air with a faint, sweet-metallic stench.
Xiao Qi gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with unadulterated horror. She stumbled backward, tripping over her own feet, collapsing onto the floor in a heap of white linen, tears streaming down her face.
Tang Liu observed the scene with a detached, clinical eye. The poison was potent, undoubtedly, but his Primordial Physique had detected it long before it reached his lips. He let out a soft sigh, a sound of gentle concern. "Oh dear," he murmured, his voice still laced with feigned compassion. "It seems my tea was too strong for the poor plant. Perhaps it needs more sunlight. You may go, Xiao Qi. See to it that no more 'strong tea' is served to me."
Xiao Qi scrambled to her feet, bowing frantically, her body shaking uncontrollably. "Yes, Your Highness! At once! Forgive this servant's clumsiness!" She fled the room as if pursued by demons, her footsteps echoing frantically down the corridor.
Silence returned, save for the incessant drip of the leaky eave. Tang Liu picked up the scroll of poetry, his expression thoughtful. He now had definitive proof that the attempts on his life were ongoing, systematic. And Xiao Qi, though compromised, was a valuable asset. She was a known quantity, a frightened pawn, easily manipulated. She would continue to serve him, continue to relay information, albeit tainted, to her handlers. And in doing so, she would unknowingly serve his own ends, feeding his enemies the crumbs of misinformation he chose to provide. The gilded cage of the Azure Crane Palace was also his fortress, his laboratory of intrigue.