Feng Jiu’er returned to the carriage. Ye Luosha came out, and from a distance, watched the figure moving busily about near the carriage — her expression heavy with loss.

Elder Shi walked over and could not help sighing: “The Young Palace Master can no longer do without Feng Jiu’er now.”

Ye Luosha said nothing, but how could she not understand what Elder Shi meant?

Di Wu Ya was now in Phoenix City, having returned to his army — he was safe and unharmed.

And now Mu Mu had woken up as well. Everything seemed to be moving toward something brighter, step by step.

The road ahead might still be long, but as long as the two brothers were together, Ye Luosha believed there was nothing those two could not accomplish.

Yet with Feng Jiu’er standing between the two brothers — could they truly be at ease with one another, without a shadow of conflict?

“Palace Mistress, at our current pace, it should take no more than five or six days from here to reach the great Phoenix City.”

Elder Shi’s words struck an oddly wistful note. Ordinarily, one would be eager to reach Phoenix City sooner and reunite with the Ninth Prince.

Yet the way he said it now seemed to suggest he had no particular wish to arrive so quickly.

Ye Luosha said nothing. She understood Elder Shi’s meaning better than anyone.

Two groups joining forces was naturally a good thing. But once they met, how would Mu Mu and Di Wu Ya manage to be around each other?

Feng Jiu’er would still be caught between both of them. Unless one of them was willing to step away on his own, this situation would spiral out of control.

But given how things currently stood — asking Mu Mu to leave Feng Jiu’er would likely mean he would leave everyone here entirely.

Yet back at the Heifeng Cliff stronghold in the imperial capital, when the Ninth Prince had departed, everyone had seen it plainly: the Ninth Prince had made up his mind about Feng Jiu’er, fully intent on having her.

Whoever dared take Feng Jiu’er from beside the Ninth Prince would find it absolutely impossible.

When the time came — one woman, two men. What then?

“Senior, are you not setting out yet?” Not far off, Leng Yue was pushing Emperor Ji’s wheelchair toward them.

Today’s Leng Yue was remarkably different — almost unprecedented. Her manner toward Ye Luosha and Elder Shi carried a measure of deference and gentleness.

In the past, she had been gentle only toward Emperor Ji. Toward everyone else, her attitude had always carried a touch of arrogance.

“The two of you — are you thinking about Feng Jiu’er?”

“Yue’er!” Emperor Ji’s expression darkened. He was particularly disinclined to hear Leng Yue bring up anything related to Feng Jiu’er now, because he knew perfectly well that anything that came out of Leng Yue’s mouth concerning Feng Jiu’er would never be a single kind word.

Leng Yue pouted, full of grievance: “Adoptive Father, are you now taking Feng Jiu’er’s side as well? Can’t even others say a word about her?”

Emperor Ji said nothing. There was little point in quarreling with a young girl like this. Leng Yue was in love with Di Wu Ya, so of course she bore hostility toward Feng Jiu’er — that was perfectly natural. The rivalry and jealousy between young women was something he had no way to stop. As long as Leng Yue didn’t go too far, he had no wish to get entangled in such petty matters.

All that mattered right now was the larger picture — first reach Phoenix City, join forces with Di Wu Ya’s army, and deal with the rest from there.

As it happened, Ye Luosha, noticing that Leng Yue seemed to have something she wanted to say, could not help but ask: “Something regarding Feng Jiu’er? What is it?”

Since Feng Jiu’er had been staying close to Mu Mu this whole time, anything related to Feng Jiu’er was naturally related to Mu Mu as well. And anything that touched on Mu Mu, Ye Luosha would of course pay attention to.

Leng Yue pressed her lips together again, casting a somewhat resentful glance at Emperor Ji — as though Emperor Ji also knew what she was about to say.

“Adoptive Father won’t let me say it.” She pouted with that air of grievance, even as she said the words — but it was plainly obvious she wanted to say it, and was only waiting for a reason to do so.

Ye Luosha sensed something was not quite simple about this. Her expression cooled: “Your adoptive father is a stubborn old man. He may not allow you to say it — I’m telling you that you can.”

Emperor Ji shot her a glare. All these years, and she still had to compete with him in everything, had to get the better of him in any situation, no matter what it was — still so driven to win.

They hadn’t seen each other in twenty years, and she still wanted to behave exactly as she had before?

Elder Shi was equally at a loss for words at this. The Palace Mistress had enjoyed trading barbs with Emperor Ji — who had been known in those days as Prince Yi — ever since her younger years, and that was nothing new within the imperial Di clan.

The two of them had, after all, something of a shared history. They had once trained together under the same master, and neither had ever been willing to admit being inferior to the other — Ye Luosha especially.

In any case, twenty years had passed. They were considerably more composed than before, but some tempers were simply in the bone, and had never changed.

“It’s nothing but idle gossip.” Emperor Ji had no wish to stir up complications. He gestured for Leng Yue to push him away.

But Leng Yue had no intention of letting this go. She would not pass up any opportunity that might be used to cast Feng Jiu’er in a poor light.

“It’s not idle gossip. I saw it with my own eyes — Nanmen Xu had his arms around Feng Jiu’er. Adoptive Father, you’re acting as though it’s nothing — how can you be so unconcerned?”

Emperor Ji glanced at her with a hint of impatience: “Perhaps you simply saw it wrong.”

“There is absolutely no way I saw it wrong!” Leng Yue declared with absolute certainty.

Ye Luosha’s composure broke: “What did you say? Nanmen Xu had his arms around Feng Jiu’er? Which Nanmen Xu?”

She was not a court official and was not familiar with court affairs. As for Nanmen Xu — the name seemed to ring a faint bell, but she had no strong impression of him.

“He’s the man who arranged our route out of the imperial capital. Ye Luosha Senior, the water route we took to leave the capital — it was Nanmen Xu who arranged all of it.”

Ye Luosha said nothing. If that was the case, then Nanmen Xu had done all of them a considerable service.

Taking the water route out had meant there was no need to pass through those towering city walls, and Mu Mu had been afforded the most restful journey possible — it had truly been a fortunate arrangement for them.

Only… why had he wrapped his arms around Feng Jiu’er?

Looking at Leng Yue now, she did not appear to be making this up.

Leng Yue had clearly read her uncertainty. She continued: “Nanmen Xu was Feng Jiu’er’s former betrothed…”

“Feng Jiu’er actually had a betrothed!” This was entirely unexpected — Ye Luosha had always assumed Feng Jiu’er had only the Ninth Prince as the man in her life.

“Yes. The match was decreed by the current Emperor himself. The two of them also spent a period of time together at the Academy, and by all accounts they were constantly in each other’s company. Who knows how far things went between them.”

“Yue’er — things you did not witness yourself, you are not to speak of carelessly.” Emperor Ji’s expression darkened.

What was all this about constantly being together — that was entirely her own imaginings. Speaking that way carelessly was enough to ruin a young woman’s reputation.

Jiu’er was Di Wu Ya’s person — he had accepted that completely. Words like these could not be allowed out of her mouth. Not only would they damage Feng Jiu’er’s name, they would also reflect poorly on Di Wu Ya.

Anything that reflected poorly on Di Wu Ya — Emperor Ji wanted nothing to do with it.

Leng Yue pouted: “I knew it — Adoptive Father, you do nothing but shield Feng Jiu’er. But was I telling a lie? Isn’t Nanmen Xu Feng Jiu’er’s former betrothed?”

“All of that is in the past.” Emperor Ji said with resignation. It was past — why keep bringing it up?

Di Wu Ya himself did not mind. As outsiders, they had even less standing to mind.