Chapter Sixty: Four Elixirs of Immortality, the Evil Path of Flower Gathering

He must come up with a way to make the portly Prefect seek his help, find out where the old Daoist is, and force him to reveal the effects of his alchemical pills.

"Gentlemen, continue investigating the secrets of Prince Ying's residence, and at the same time, ascertain the strength of the city’s four Decisive Guard garrisons. I will head to the Prefect’s manor to probe further."

"The Decisive Guard?" The group was surprised, unable to understand why this case involved the garrison troops.

"Understood."

"Very well, I take my leave." Han Chong nodded, concealed himself, and hurried back to the Prefect’s manor.

...

"Ah, Doctor Han, you’re back! The master was looking for you yesterday," the emaciated steward greeted Han Chong eagerly.

"Oh? Steward, is someone ill?"

"Of course! The master’s heart trouble flared up again yesterday—he couldn’t eat or sleep, was in agony, and urged me a dozen times to fetch you. Please come quickly."

"Hmm, very well. I was delayed by matters at home yesterday and could not return."

So fortune favors the prepared—the portly Prefect’s constitution was truly poor; illness struck him like a mountain.

When Han Chong reached the master bedroom, he saw the Prefect with furrowed brows and an ashen face, clutching his chest with one hand and dragging a pipe with the other, pacing anxiously around the room like a rat without a burrow.

"Master, Doctor Han is here."

"Please, come quickly!" The Prefect, upon hearing Han Chong’s arrival, threw aside his pipe and hurried to the door, grasping Han Chong’s hands with a hint of pleading.

"Doctor Han, you’ve finally returned! My heart trouble struck again last night—I was awake all night, and today the pain has been constant. I fear I have only a few days left."

"My deepest apologies. Urgent matters at home kept me away yesterday, and I let you wait too long."

Han Chong accompanied him to the couch and took his pulse.

Yet, judging by the pulse, there was no sign of abnormality—truly strange.

Han Chong’s brows gradually knit tighter, his expression grew grave as he stared silently at the Prefect, frightening him nearly out of his wits.

"Doctor Han, what is it? Please, don’t scare me!" The Prefect, seeing Han Chong’s expression, felt a chill as though sentenced to death.

Han Chong still remained silent, shook his head, and sighed. Then, with both hands shimmering with white light, he pressed lightly over the Prefect’s chest and abdomen.

A wave of coolness swept through him, and the Prefect was so relieved he nearly groaned, feeling his heart trouble ease considerably.

Yet, seeing Han Chong’s demeanor—looking as though he was beyond saving—the Prefect felt no joy at all.

"Doctor Han, please speak—do I still have hope?"

"To be honest, Prefect, you should begin preparing your final affairs. Though I can manage your symptoms with medical skill, the illness has penetrated to your inner organs—there is no remedy."

"What!" The Prefect’s face went pale, frozen in place, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Yesterday, I searched all my medical books at home. Prefect, you must have ingested something extraordinary to contract this strange illness.

By my deduction, if we do not quickly identify what you swallowed, you may have only three to five days—at most seven or eight—before your organs are wracked and you perish."

"Oh, what am I to do? Doctor Han, save me! If you can preserve my life, I will gift you a hundred acres of prime land and a thousand taels of gold!

Houses, concubines, official rank—whatever you desire, I will grant it!" The Prefect clung to Han Chong’s hands, afraid he might sprout wings and fly away.

"Doctor Han, come with me." As if making a decision, the Prefect bit his lip, stomped his foot, and drew Han Chong toward an inner chamber, closing the door behind them.

"Prefect, is there something else you wish to confide?" Han Chong asked with feigned curiosity.

"At this point, I shall not conceal the truth from you. I swallowed four immortal pills, which brought on this strange illness."

"What, immortal pills? Four of them! Why take so many?"

"Sigh, it’s a long story. There was a rumor that Prince Ying brought back a Daoist from a mountain temple to refine longevity pills.

But before the Daoist finished the pills, Prince Ying died.

Later, the prince’s orphaned daughter suddenly suffered heart trouble. All the famous doctors in the city were summoned, but none could cure her. She died that very night.

Yet I was fortunate to witness the legendary Daoist appear, and afterwards, I secretly brought him to my manor.

He exuded an immortal aura, and from his robes produced a jade bottle, from which he poured out a pill—large as a longan, pure white as jade, radiating a soft glow.

He said this pill was called Turtle Immortal Elixir, refined from thousand-year-old turtle meat and dozens of hundred-year herbs. Swallowing one would extend one’s life by fifty years. Alas, Prince Ying never tasted it, so he gave me one."

I suspected nothing, gifted him a hundred taels of gold, and swallowed the pill immediately. It was truly miraculous—melted upon entering, filled my body with unspeakable vigor, and I could last ten times in a night without fatigue!"

At this point, the Prefect fell silent.

"Tch!" Han Chong was astonished—he had not expected such a potent elixir to exist.

It was clear the Prefect coveted the remaining three pills, and likely used some trickery to obtain them all and swallow them.

"Prefect, with your heart trouble unresolved, did you not question the Daoist about the cause?"

"I wanted to ask, but the Daoist escaped from my manor’s dungeon—broke the shackles and vanished without a trace."

Han Chong’s mouth twitched. The Prefect had truly been bamboozled and was pitifully unlucky.

"Did the Daoist have any distinguishing features? Did you not search the whole city for him?"

"I searched, but found nothing. However, I have a close friend—a Daoist called Divine Owl.

He told me the Daoist was called Wandering Immortal, famed for trickery and deception, notorious for his lasciviousness—a notorious flower thief."

"Ah, I see. At this juncture, we must secretly apprehend him to resolve the poisonous pills." Han Chong’s expression darkened.

"Oh, Doctor Han, you are truly my savior! If you rescue me, I will worship you like a deity, burn incense daily, and pray for your ascension to immortality!"

"Heh, Prefect, you are too kind."

Han Chong sneered inwardly. His only goal was to uncover the Daoist’s alchemical schemes, not to save such a greedy and lustful official—better he dies and moves on.

"Please instruct the provincial office to investigate any recent flower thefts, and bring the case files here. I can use them to track and apprehend the culprit."

"Yes, yes, I will have the files sent at once. Doctor Han, please wait here."

The Prefect hurried out in a panic.