Wen Zhuyi looked at the three sticks of signal incense in the burner, her gaze immensely complicated. "What was mixed into these candles and incense should be Emperor-Sleeping Grass? They say that once burned, Emperor-Sleeping Grass has neither color nor scent, neither form nor substance. The five senses cannot detect it, nor can Divine Sense perceive it. Even an Eternity God would have their mind clouded and Spiritual Sense dulled after a single breath.
"Legend has it that in ancient times, a celestial emperor was ambushed by the Lord of Ten Thousand Deceptions using Emperor-Sleeping Grass and perished. That is why this grass is called Emperor-Sleeping. It should have vanished from the Mortal Realm, yet I have had the good fortune to see it. Changsun Ruoli, oh, Changsun Ruoli, just how have I, Wen Zhuyi, wronged you, that you would go so far as to collude with outsiders to plot against me?"
Her voice held disappointment, bewilderment, heartache, self-mockery, desolation, and sorrow.
Changsun Ruoli trembled. Her face turned deathly pale, and she knelt in alarm. "Royal Mother, why would you say such a thing? I do not know whether Emperor-Sleeping Grass was mixed into those candles and incense, but none of those things came from my hands."
The three sticks of signal incense she had burned had all been taken from the incense table in the Quiet Chamber.
"You still call me Royal Mother?"
Wen Zhuyi's voice dripped with sarcasm. "The incense in the Perfume Pouch you used today is Dragon-Blood Incense, a kind you have never used before. Its properties are fierce, and it can slightly confuse a person's five senses and Spiritual Sense. Dragon-Blood Incense poses no threat to Martial Cultivators, but nothing could be better for concealing Emperor-Sleeping Grass."
Changsun Ruoli wanted to explain, but Wen Zhuyi