Chapter 84: Sudden Poisonous Scheme

That afternoon, Jiang Mingyu sat alone in the county magistrate’s office.

Sunlight streaming through the window lattice cast a drowsy haze over the room.

Jiang Mingyu wore a pale blue official robe, slowly chewing a shriveled corn bun, his face betraying unmistakable exhaustion.

Since Tukesulu went to train troops and the new cook was sent to assist the city defense camp, Jiang Mingyu had not eaten a proper meal in days.

At first, he thought a quick bite would suffice, but after several days, he felt his body weaken and his spirit decline sharply.

After much deliberation, Jiang Mingyu decided that even if he had no money left, he must hire a cook.

Otherwise, before recruiting enough soldiers, he—the temporary acting commander and imperial envoy—might starve to death.

He called the guard stationed at the door: “Go into the city at once and bring back a cook. I can’t take this anymore.”

These guards had been sent by Tukesulu ten days ago, after the Bamboo Pole Man and the Mustached Man failed to assassinate Jiang Mingyu.

The guard promptly replied, braved the snowstorm outside, and hurried out of the magistrate’s office.

Just as he waited anxiously for the cook’s arrival, a guard at the gate rushed in: “My lord, the Inspector has sent someone.”

Jiang Mingyu’s eyes lit up with joy. He set down the corn bun, straightened his robe, suppressed his excitement, and spoke with dignified composure: “Bring him in at once.”

In walked a middle-aged scholar dressed in dark blue robes, a string of jade pendants hanging at his waist.

He was about forty, tall and slender, with streaks of gray at his temples and a few loose strands of beard, his manner refined and courteous—clearly the bearing of a learned man.

He bowed deeply to Jiang Mingyu and got straight to the point: “I have been sent by Inspector Wang to inform you: the Inspector has persuaded the Inspectors of Wangyun and Gaoyang prefectures to sign a contract for one million jin of coal. Here is the first installment: forty thousand taels in gold. Please accept it, Lord Jiang.”

Jing Xingwang added respectfully: “Inspector Wang went to great lengths to persuade the two prefectural Inspectors. Lord Jiang must act swiftly.”

Jiang Mingyu, both delighted and grateful, smiled broadly, revealing a row of white teeth, his eyes nearly closed with joy.

Jiang Mingyu exclaimed, “Good. Tell Inspector Wang I shall act at once.”

He pulled out ten thousand taels without hesitation and handed them to Jing Xingwang: “A small token of appreciation for Inspector Wang—nothing worthy of his efforts.”

Jing Xingwang accepted the money with both hands, bowing respectfully. Jiang Mingyu then produced a stack of five-thousand-tael silver notes: “Jing Shiyeh, you’ve traveled far—consider this my gift for tea.”

Jing Xingwang had not expected any extra payment; now he was stunned with delight. “Oh no, Lord Jiang, you flatter me too much—why go to such expense...”

Yet his hands swiftly slipped the notes into his wide sleeves, as if fearing Jiang Mingyu might change his mind.

Jiang Mingyu smiled calmly and spoke slowly: “I know you are Inspector Wang’s trusted confidant. Should any favorable opportunities arise, I hope you will speak well of me to him—I shall be forever grateful.”

Jing Xingwang beamed, wrinkles around his eyes deepening: “Lord Jiang is truly wise, with boundless prospects. I shall surely convey your goodwill!”

Watching Jing Xingwang depart, Jiang Mingyu privately sighed—he still felt a pang at parting with so many taels.

But having lived two lives, he understood: this money had to be spent.

You cannot catch a wolf without sacrificing a child. He must win Wang Zhe to his side to stand against Prince Qi.

Maintaining good relations with Wang Zhe for now was the most advantageous course.

Aligning with Wang Zhe brought him nothing but benefits—at least for now.

As Jiang Mingyu drifted in thought, his stomach growled loudly. He tucked away the silver notes and gave a bitter smile: “Thinking of all this is still too far off.”

He chuckled bitterly at himself—caught in the web of power struggles, he had nearly forgotten the basic sensation of hunger.

“Right now, the most important thing is to fill my belly.”

Just as Jiang Mingyu could no longer endure the gnawing emptiness in his stomach, the guard he had sent to hire a cook finally returned.

Behind the guard walked a tall, burly man wearing a coarse cotton padded jacket, stained with grease and missing several buttons, reeking of stewed meat—clearly someone who spent his days in the kitchen.

The guard bowed respectfully to Jiang Mingyu: “My lord, this is the cook we brought from the city. His name is... what was it again?”

The man spoke in a low, trembling voice: “My lord, I am Che Hongda.”

The name seemed unfitting for his imposing frame, but his thick beard, gray temples, and nervous posture revealed a quiet, inarticulate man, especially intimidated by authority.

Starving, Jiang Mingyu had no interest in his background. He waved impatiently: “Enough. Get to the kitchen and cook something. I’m about to faint from hunger!”

Che Hongda nodded frantically, carefully lifting several bags of fresh ingredients, frowning as if afraid of offending this new official, and hurried out with the guard.

Just as the steaming dishes were placed before him and Jiang Mingyu was about to dig in, a faint squeaking came from the corner.

He turned and saw a gaunt rat peering at the food, its eyes wide with hunger.

Jiang Mingyu first laughed, then felt pity. He gestured: “You look just as starved as I am. Come, we’ve met by fate—here, have a piece of fatty meat. Catch it.”

He pinched a small piece of fragrant braised pork and tossed it before the rat.

The rat, clearly starving, seized the meat without fear and devoured it greedily, letting out contented squeaks.

Then it lifted its head, big watery eyes fixed on Jiang Mingyu, hoping for more.

Jiang Mingyu shook his head helplessly: “Little one, this won’t do. I’ve given you something—I haven’t even eaten yet...”

Before he finished speaking, the rat suddenly convulsed violently, foam oozing from its mouth, then tinged red with blood. It emitted a weak whimper, curled into a ball, twitched a few times, and lay still.

Jiang Mingyu turned pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He instinctively dropped his chopsticks and shouted: “Someone! The food is poisoned! Get help!”

The arriving guards saw the rat’s death and instantly understood: someone had deliberately poisoned the meal. He barked: “Someone dared to assassinate my lord! Go to the kitchen and seize Che Hongda!”

An hour later, the guard who had gone to capture Che Hongda rushed in, panting and drenched in sweat: “My lord, we searched every corner of the magistrate’s office. Che Hongda is gone.”

Jiang Mingyu frowned, his gaze icy: “Didn’t you say you met him on the street?”

The guard trembled under his stare: “Y-yes, I met him on the street.”

Jiang Mingyu’s face darkened, his eyes sharp as lightning: “I have never met him before. This is no coincidence. Your ‘chance encounter’ was part of his plan all along.”

The guard’s legs shook as he whispered: “What do you mean, my lord?”

Jiang Mingyu sneered, his voice chilling: “I mean he waited for the perfect moment to poison the food. You were merely pawns in his scheme—exactly what he wanted.”

“Send word to Murong Yunhai: search every inch of the city. Find Che Hongda and bring him to justice!”

The guard bowed frantically and fled as if escaping death itself.

Jiang Mingyu knew the mastermind was almost certainly Huang Chaoran. He clenched his fist and growled: “Huang Chaoran, you think you can outwit me? If I catch that cook, I’ll raze your Huang family to the ground without mercy!”