Chapter Nineteen: A Meal That Can Be Deadly

When the matter of the bookstore was finally settled, Zhen Qian was in exceptionally high spirits. He prepared a pot of hotpot for himself, humming a little tune as he nursed a cup of wine, dipping a slice of lamb into the boiling broth and savoring it with relish.

"My lord, what is this?" one of the girls asked.

"Hotpot! Freshly cooked spicy hotpot. You should try it too!" Having already perfected boiled fish, Zhen Qian was not about to forgo hotpot, even if the spice wasn’t quite authentic and he had to make do for now.

As soon as Xiao Zhu ate a piece of lamb, she was overwhelmed by the spiciness, gulping down water as she exclaimed, "It's so spicy!"

Xiao Mei also found it intolerably hot, unable to fathom Zhen Qian’s fondness for such flavors. "My lord, this is way too spicy!"

Zhen Qian smacked his forehead, realizing he’d grown used to spicy food, but the two girls hadn’t. "I forgot! Tomorrow I’ll have Uncle Wang prepare a divided pot, so you don’t have to eat the spicy side anymore."

Though their mouths were burning, the girls couldn’t stop eating; the more they ate, the more flavorsome it became. "But it’s quite a unique taste. After a while, it’s not so spicy!"

Zhen Qian laughed heartily. It wasn’t that the food had ceased to be spicy—it was just that their mouths had gone numb. He remembered the first time he’d tried spicy food; nostalgia welled up, and he found himself yearning for the true flavors of heat.

"Master! I’ve found out the news," Wang You called from the doorway. Smelling the delicious aroma in the room, he swallowed hard before entering.

"Come in, have something to eat first. Then tell me everything slowly," Zhen Qian invited.

"This is how it happened..." Wang You, reluctant to put down his chopsticks after several bites, mumbled as he recounted the news he’d gathered at the county office. "This Song Yi, who’s a distant relative of Song Yi, really has had a stroke of bad luck. He opened a small restaurant, and unexpectedly, someone died after eating there. The county court has sentenced him, and he’s just waiting for execution come autumn! This will be the first execution in Zhen Ding in many years, and his entire family is to be exiled as well!"

"What… what did you just say? The tenth year of Tianbao?" Zhen Qian’s wine cup fell from his hand with a sharp crack, his body struck as if by lightning. Dizziness and shortness of breath overtook him.

"My lord, don’t scare me!" Xiao Zhu cried out in alarm—this was the first time she’d seen Zhen Qian so agitated since his memory loss, and she feared his old illness might have returned.

Xiao Mei was equally frightened. "My lord, what’s wrong?"

"It’s nothing," Zhen Qian forced himself to remain calm, though his hands trembled uncontrollably. How could his luck be so wretched? Was fate toying with him?

He tried to reassure them, but his words rang hollow. His mind was in turmoil, unable to compose himself.

"Nothing at all. Wang You, did you just say the tenth year of Tianbao?"

"Yes! What’s so strange about the tenth year of Tianbao?" Wang You was startled by Zhen Qian’s reaction, unable to fathom his sudden distress.

"Leave me be for a moment. We’ll discuss Song Yi’s matter tomorrow." Zhen Qian tried to stand, but his body shook even more violently. Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei hurried to support him to his bed, while Wang You, reluctant to leave the delicious food behind, shuffled out of the room.

---

Zhen Qian stared blankly at the two girls at his side, overcome by a sense of bitterness at his fate. Just when he thought he could settle into a peaceful life, such a calamity befell him.

He wanted nothing more than to bang his head against the wall. How could he have been so careless as to forget to ask what year it was? He’d only known he was in the Tang Dynasty, never considering the looming disaster of the An-Shi Rebellion—a pivotal turning point from prosperity to decline for the Tang, known to every Chinese person. Yet he, with all his supposed foresight, had forgotten. Dreaming of becoming a wealthy man now seemed the height of folly.

The two girls clung to him tightly, terrified he might lose his mind again. After a long while, seeing the dullness in his eyes, Xiao Zhu’s voice trembled, "My lord, please don’t frighten me like that."

Seeing their tears, Zhen Qian snapped out of his daze. What was he doing? Would despair solve anything?

"No!"

A cry rose in his heart: "Never! I’ve failed once already—there’s no way I’ll fail again. So what if An Lushan rebels? Knowing the course of history, can I not outwit a mere usurper? Ha! This is a tremendous crisis, but also an opportunity for my own rebirth!"

With this realization, he stood up, the gloom in his heart dissipating. He had never admitted defeat before, and he wouldn’t now.

His sudden shift in demeanor left the girls even more bewildered. Their concern turned to panic. "Quick, fetch the physician! The master has gone mad again!"

"I’m not mad! No need for a doctor—let’s drink!" Zhen Qian downed a cup of wine with gusto, the knot in his chest undone. He hadn’t yet devised a plan, but there was time. He smiled with new patience, drank a few more cups, and reassured the girls, "I gave you both a fright just now. Don’t worry, I’m fine."

The girls, of course, found it hard to believe. What normal person would veer between extremes like this? Their fear only deepened as they wondered how they’d survive if he truly lost his mind.

Zhen Qian quickly sought to calm them. "Really, I’m fine. Look at me—I’m perfectly well."

"But just now…" Xiao Mei ventured timidly.

Zhen Qian’s mind worked rapidly, cycling through explanations. "I just had an out-of-body experience—my spirit soared through the heavens, but you two girls pulled me back before I could greet the immortals!"

Xiao Zhu regarded him with suspicion, scanning his face for any sign of truth. "You really scared us. We thought you’d…"

"Nonsense! I’m perfectly alright," Zhen Qian replied with a composed air.

"Will this happen again, my lord?" Xiao Mei asked in a small voice.

"Who can say? But don’t worry—I’ll be fine. It’s your concern that worries me more," Zhen Qian said, pulling the two girls into his embrace. Holding them brought him a sudden peace. He realized he’d been overthinking things; after all, he was but an observer of history. Even if he was now part of it, that didn’t mean he was helpless.

Just as he was comforting the girls, Wang Qun and the others burst in, alarmed by Wang You’s tale of another episode. Zhen Qian could only laugh at the ruination of his once dignified image.

The next day, Wang You hovered anxiously at the door, hesitant to enter.

"Get in here and repeat the details of Song Yi’s case!"

---

Wang You was speechless—wasn’t this another attack? Still, he retold the story of Song Yi’s imprisonment, this time careful not to mention the tenth year of Tianbao, for fear of another episode.

If Zhen Qian knew what Wang You was thinking, he might have strangled him on the spot.

But Zhen Qian’s mind was now wholly preoccupied with Song Yi’s case. Ignoring Wang You’s uncertain glances, he pondered for a moment before asking, "So, the victim ate at Song Yi’s restaurant and died of vomiting and diarrhea after returning home—is that correct?"

"Yes. Song Yi admitted as much."

"Then why were the friends who dined with the victim unaffected?"

"I have no idea," Wang You replied, shaking his head.

"And do you know what dishes they ate at the restaurant?"

"I don’t," Wang You admitted.

"Then what are you sitting here for? Go find out!" Zhen Qian kicked him. How could he not know such crucial details? What kind of informant was he?

Muttering his discontent, Wang You reluctantly left. He was, after all, the personal attendant of the legitimate eldest son of the Zhen family’s second branch—when had he become a mere errand boy for gossip?

"My lord, why are you so invested in this lawsuit?" Xiao Zhu wondered, not understanding Zhen Qian’s sudden concern for Song Yi’s case. Song Yi had only asked for help in seeing this distant relative one last time in prison—not expecting anyone to save him.

"To save a life is a greater deed than building a seven-story pagoda," Zhen Qian replied lightly.

But his mind was elsewhere. After hearing that Song Yi had opened a restaurant, a thought struck him: if he could save Song Yi, who would then be deeply grateful, wouldn’t Song Yi make an excellent manager for his own future inn?

Satisfied that her master was doing a good deed, Xiao Zhu smiled with joy.

This time, Wang You was gone a long while, not returning until after midday, looking exhausted. "Master, I’ve found out everything and even had someone copy out the case files and confessions—it cost quite a bit!"

"You’ll be compensated," Zhen Qian replied with a laugh, taking the files and reading them carefully. After a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Since you sought out the county’s coroner, you must also have inquired about how Magistrate Wen judged the case. If the friends who ate with the victim were unharmed, why was Song Yi still convicted? Wasn’t there any objection?"

Having been reprimanded once, Wang You had learned his lesson. This time, he’d tracked down the constables and coroner, and even had the case files copied for Zhen Qian. Now he understood the whole affair. "The Song family did raise such objections, but lacked any evidence. The plaintiff’s family insisted the victim had been poisoned at Song Yi’s restaurant, so Magistrate Wen found Song Yi guilty."