Blossoming Path

Gu Bei’s face went pale, his eyes darting around, desperately searching for a way out. “It was just… you know… a slip of the tongue,” he stammered, the words spilling out clumsily. “We’ve all been drinking, and sometimes you say things you don’t mean…”

I stepped closer, letting the threat hang between us. My eyes never left his. “Save it,” I said, my voice cold. “I already know what happened. And unless you’d like to spend the next fifteen minutes struggling to breathe, I suggest you start talking.”

I pulled out the vials from my sleeve, holding it up in the moonlight. The liquid inside was a sickly, pale yellow, catching the light with an eerie gleam.

“Do you feel it yet? The shaky breathing? The rapid beating of your heart?” I raised an eyebrow, watching as realization dawned on their faces. “In a few more minutes, that’ll be the least of your problems. Soon, the spasms will start. Your lungs will burn, nausea will take over, and then the vomiting… and the blood. It’ll be excruciating. A slow, painful death.”

One of them clutched his stomach, breathing heavily, while another stammered.

"You… poisoned us? When?"

A flash of panic crossed their faces. They looked at each other, half-believing, half-doubting. Watching them quake under my words, I felt a faint, bitter satisfaction. But it left a sour taste in my mouth.

But the memory of my garden; ruined, trampled underfoot, all for control, for someone else’s gain, reignited the anger within me.

Elder Ming's warning of the Jianghu was right; righteousness could only go so far. Sometimes, you had to fight fire with fire.