Sunlight pierced through the curtains, cutting a pale yellow gash into the gloom.
Milady lay on her side, staring at the nightstand. The daylight fell upon the protective cover of the small pot of Beauty Fern, illuminating the specks of dust and grime on the glass. The withered, curled yellow leaves looked even more pathetic in the light, as if displaying a slow, scorching death.
The room hadn't been aired out since Yidan died. The foul, heavy air pressed clammily against her face. Several days had passed, yet Milady felt as if she could still smell the thick, sour scent of the purplish-red seaweed on her fingers.
The naive thought that the Clan Leader had discovered a new medicinal herb lingered in her mind for only a single morning.
After returning to a strange port in Haidu by ship, she found a chance to disembark in the early morning. With the purplish-red seaweed in her pocket, she went from one clinic to another, asking every doctor and nurse she could find. She even made a trip to the botanical museum.
At the end of the day, she threw the seaweed into a trash can.
On the morning of the third day, she habitually lifted the cover, intending to give it a little filtered water. Her mother had said to water it while the air was still cool so it wouldn't get sunburned during the day; but she didn't have time to water it in the morning, because she had to hurry to—
That hard, heavy lump of air choking her windpipe suddenly burst from Milady's throat, erupting in a wolf-like howl. The watering can crashed to the floor, splashing like a spray of tears.
Her mother didn't have to hurry anywhere anymore.
From now on, she no longer had a mother.
And it was all because of a clump of wet sand.
No words in the world could describe this insult, this contempt: telling you it was medicine, tricking you into swallowing wet sand, coaxing you into risking your life, and when you finally collapsed, not even bothering to have a doctor come take a look.
Right after Yidan, the Beauty Fern died too.
The storm in her mind raged even more fiercely. She felt as if she were being violently pulled in countless directions, her thoughts numb, with only a single, half-formed idea coming through with absolute clarity.
'...If words couldn't describe it, she would describe it in blood.'
When the doorbell was suddenly struck with a sharp BANG BANG that afternoon, Milady leaped from the bed. Her movements were incredibly swift, and she was already fully dressed in her coat and boots—she suddenly realized she had been waiting for this moment all along.
The visitor was a clerk from the Tower Clan's administrative office.
The administrative office was generally responsible for the clan members' career paths, living arrangements, and other miscellaneous affairs. They were, in a sense, the most well-informed group in the clan. Milady sized him up, her gaze landing on a paper-wrapped package tucked under his arm.
'It's here.'
"My condolences," he said as he walked in, spouting the usual pleasantries. "Sigh, she was such a good person. How could she suddenly fall ill and pass away?"
Milady hadn't told anyone in the clan about the image of the crystallized lungs.
"I also said you should be given a few more days to rest. But you see, this crystal pollution is nasty stuff. For every day it's not cleaned up, another patch grows. Ah, don't blame me," the clerk said, pushing the paper package toward Milady. "But we all have our responsibilities, don't we? Here, this is a month's supply. If it's not enough, just let me know."
With a calmness that surprised even herself, Milady accepted the paper package.
Upon opening it, she was not at all surprised to see a bag of purplish-red powder—the Anti-Crystallization Medicine, a single portion.
She had wondered before why the Clan Leader only distributed the Anti-Crystallization Medicine to clan members instead of mass-producing and selling it. The answer she got was that the Tower family was forbidden from engaging in industries outside of their regulated sectors, which meant they couldn't commercialize the Anti-Crystallization Medicine.
Thinking about it now, it was far more logical that the Clan Leader knew perfectly well that the so-called "Anti-Crystallization Medicine" was actually worthless.
Milady stared at the paper package that had been pushed across the table, her body ramrod straight. When the clerk had uttered a few more bland pleasantries and was finally taking his leave, she suddenly stood up and said, "I want to work at the yard."
He turned his head so abruptly that he forgot he was still walking and nearly lost his footing.
"The yard?" He looked at Milady, unsure if he should say what was on his mind, and asked vaguely, "What yard?"
Seeing his reaction, the last shred of doubt that "the yard" might be unrelated to the Clan Leader vanished from Milady's mind.
"Huai Tuo told me." She gave the name of her cousin from the ship, then lowered her head and said, "I heard him say the pay is much better at the yard."