BDSMST -Chapter 86 The Conspiracy Behind the Plague

Wang Jimin’s decision to join them was, for Jiang Suisui, like adding wings to a tiger.

This highly respected elder physician of Yong’an County not only brought professional medical skill and decades of clinical experience, but more importantly, his change in attitude was like a massive stone thrown into a still lake, stirring enormous waves throughout the county.

If even Physician Wang held “Peaceful Safety Decoction” in such high regard and personally went to the quarantine zone to “study,” how could it possibly be false?

For a time, the reputation of Woniu Village and Jiang Suisui reached an unprecedented height.

When the county magistrate heard the news, he could no longer sit still. He sent large quantities of grain and medicinal herbs, claiming it was to “support the Marquis’s wife in her righteous endeavor.” In truth, he merely wished to claim a share of the overwhelming credit.

Jiang Suisui accepted everything without hesitation. Resources were exactly what she needed now.

As the quarantine zone gradually fell into smooth operation, Jiang Suisui was finally able to divert part of her attention to a more important matter—investigating the source of the plague.

Was it a natural disaster… or a man-made calamity?

That question had lingered in her mind from the very beginning.

Through carrier pigeons, she issued new instructions to Gu Yan: while tending to the patients, carefully investigate the refugees’ places of origin in Qinghe County—especially looking for common factors among the first group who fell ill.

Gu Yan’s investigative ability was far beyond that of an ordinary man.

Before long, from the terrified and shaken refugees, he pieced together a crucial clue.

The earliest outbreak in Qinghe County had not occurred in the county seat, but in a remote downstream village called Xiaohe Village.

And before falling ill, the villagers of Xiaohe Village had one thing in common: they had all drunk water from the small river at the entrance of the village.

“Xiaohe Village was built along the river. The villagers have drunk from it for generations. Why did problems arise only this time?” Gu Yan wrote in his letter to Jiang Suisui. “I suspect someone tampered with the river water.”

To verify his suspicion, Gu Yan made a bold decision.

He temporarily entrusted the quarantine zone to the now fully convinced Wang Jimin and Xie Zi’an. Then, together with Wei Ziqian, he disguised himself as a fur trader and traveled against the flow of refugees, infiltrating Qinghe County—which had already become a land of death.

The reality in Qinghe County was even more tragic than the rumors.

The streets were deserted. Every household had its doors tightly shut, marked with horrifying crosses painted in lime. The air was thick with the rotting stench of death mixed with medicinal herbs.

Avoiding patrolling constables along the way, Gu Yan and Wei Ziqian made their way to Xiaohe Village, marked on their map.

The village had become a ghost town.

What they saw upon entering was a vision of hell on earth. Decayed corpses lay by the roadside. Inside the houses, bodies were strewn everywhere—entire families had died neatly together within their homes.

Wei Ziqian was still young; he had never witnessed such devastation. He immediately ran aside and vomited violently.

Gu Yan’s expression was equally grim. He had seen battlefields littered with corpses before, yet what lay before him now struck him with a different kind of chill—one that seeped into the soul.

War killed with reason. But what crime had these innocent villagers committed?

Suppressing the rage rising in his chest, he began to investigate carefully.

He went to the small river at the village entrance. The water appeared clear, showing no obvious abnormalities. He tested it with a silver needle—there was no discoloration.

“Brother Gu… could we be mistaken? Maybe this really is just a natural disaster…” Wei Ziqian said, pale-faced.

Gu Yan said nothing. He crouched down, his sharp gaze scanning every inch of the riverbank.

Suddenly, his eyes fixed on a seemingly ordinary patch of reeds by the shore.

The soil there bore signs of having been disturbed.

He stepped forward, parted the reeds, and discovered a half-rotten burlap sack buried deep in the damp earth.

Using the sheath of his sword, he lifted it open. A foul, piercing stench burst forth.

Inside the sack were blackened, moldy animal entrails and chunks of rotting meat. Mixed among the filth was a black, powdery substance.

Gu Yan took out a clean cloth and carefully wrapped some of the powder. Then he filled a waterskin with river water.

“Let’s go.”

Gu Yan did not linger. He immediately took Wei Ziqian and left that ill-omened place.

On the journey back to Woniu Village, Gu Yan did not say a single word.

But Wei Ziqian could clearly sense it—the icy killing intent radiating from him was a hundred times stronger than when he had faced the assassins sent by the Marquis of Anyuan.

As soon as they returned to the estate, Gu Yan handed the retrieved items to Jiang Suisui and Xie Zi’an.

Xie Zi’an placed the black powder under a lamp and examined it carefully. He lifted it to his nose to smell it, and his expression changed drastically.

“This is powdered ‘Rot-Intestine Grass’!” he exclaimed. “It’s extremely poisonous, usually found only in the miasmic regions of the southern frontier. Taken in small amounts, it causes violent vomiting and diarrhea. In larger quantities, it leads to intestinal rupture and certain death!”

“Even more vicious,” Xie Zi’an’s voice trembled, “is that its toxicity dissipates upon contact with water—but it does not disappear. Instead, it lies dormant in the water. Those who drink it will feel nothing at first, but the poison slowly accumulates in the body. Once they eat raw meat or rich foods, the toxin is instantly triggered. At that point, its potency is more than ten times stronger than if ingested directly!”

“That explains why the villagers of Xiaohe Village fell ill in a concentrated outbreak, while later infections were relatively milder!” Jiang Suisui instantly connected all the pieces. “Because only the villagers of Xiaohe Village drank the most toxic ‘mother water’!”

What had been thought a natural disaster was now proven beyond doubt to be man-made.

And not merely man-made—but a carefully planned, deliberate massacre without discrimination.

“Who? Who would use such a heartless method to slaughter an entire village?” Jiang Suisui felt her hands and feet turn cold.

Gu Yan’s gaze fell upon the map. His finger traced from Xiaohe Village upward, across Qinghe County, until it stopped at a point along the border between Qinghe County and the northern frontier.

—Wolf Fang Valley.

The source of that small river lay near Wolf Fang Valley.

And three years ago, one of the so-called pieces of “evidence” accusing Xie Zi’an’s father of colluding with the enemy had been that he had “secretly met” with Northern Mang spies in that very area.

An invisible thread now tied together the old case from three years ago and the present plague.

“They weren’t trying to slaughter the village,” Gu Yan said, his voice colder than ice. “They were trying to cover something up. By creating a plague large enough to cause chaos great enough to draw everyone’s attention elsewhere.”

“Cover up what?”

“I suspect,” Gu Yan looked at Xie Zi’an, “it has to do with the batch of military grain your father was responsible for back then.”

Xie Zi’an’s entire body shook.

Gu Yan continued, “Three years ago, those three hundred thousand dan of military grain were said to have been burned. But we’ve always suspected it was embezzled and sold to Northern Mang instead. Yet such a massive quantity of grain—how could it have been transported beyond the border without anyone noticing? I’ve checked. In those years, none of the northern border passes recorded any shipment of that scale.”

“Unless…” Jiang Suisui picked up his thought, “they didn’t go through the border passes at all—but used the waterway.”

Her eyes met Gu Yan’s in the air. Both saw in the other’s gaze the same dreadful answer, ready to be spoken.

“They hid the grain near Wolf Fang Valley, then used that small river to transport it out in batches!”

And Xiaohe Village—the village that had lived by the river for generations—its villagers would have known every unusual movement on that waterway. They had very likely discovered the grain transports by accident, seen something they were never meant to see.

So they had to die.

To conceal a colossal crime of treason, an entire village—men, women, and children—had been erased as expendable sacrifices.

And this plague was merely a greater fire set to cover up that massacre.

The study fell into a deathly silence.

After a long while, Jiang Suisui finally found her voice. She looked at Gu Yan and asked, word by word, “The Marquis of Anyuan?”

Gu Yan shook his head—then nodded.

“The Marquis of Anyuan is only the one floating on the surface. To lay out such a vast scheme, the forces behind him are likely…”

He did not finish the sentence, but all three understood. The waters of this matter ran far deeper than they had imagined.

Gu Yan carefully wrapped up the packet of Rot-Intestine Grass powder once more. In his eyes was a resolve fiercer than ever before.

“No matter who stands behind this, I will drag them out. For the unjust souls of Xiaohe Village—and for the more than ten thousand brothers who died on the battlefield.”

He knew that the time had come to tighten the net.