Xue Gu sheltered Consort Lian while Feng Jiu’er brought up the rear, the three of them making their way out of the palace together. Yet just as they were nearly clear of the palace gates, something stirred inexplicably in Jiu’er’s heart, and she came to a stop atop the high wall.

Xue Gu led Consort Lian on ahead, but Feng Jiu’er turned back to gaze at the dim, heavy sky in the distance, her breathing suddenly thrown into disarray.

Why this fluttering sensation in her chest? And why did that flutter make her head begin to ache with a dull, creeping pain?

Why was it that she kept feeling, somewhere not far off in the direction of King Muhe’s sleeping chambers, there was something she could not bring herself to leave behind?

No — not something. It was… a feeling. A breath. A presence.

Whatever could it be…

“Young Master.” Ahead of her, Xue Gu called out in a low, steady voice.

The sound carried with it a deep, well-cultivated inner force that reached Feng Jiu’er’s ears with ease. Only then did Jiu’er let out a slow breath and quicken her steps to catch up.

“I’m sorry, I was just… just…” She let it go. There was truly no way to explain it — only that all at once she had sensed it, a breath achingly familiar, hovering so very close to her.

But in the blink of an eye, that presence had drifted away toward King Muhe’s sleeping chambers.

The fluttering in her chest had not yet stilled, yet seeing the pallor that had come over Consort Lian’s face — white as a sheet — Jiu’er dared not linger. She immediately joined Xue Gu in escorting Consort Lian out of the palace.

When they returned to the courtyard house, Xing Zizhou and Tasang Nan had already come back.

Seeing the two of them return with a visibly pregnant woman in tow, everyone was taken aback.

“This is Consort Lian,” Feng Jiu’er said by way of introduction, though the name seemed unfamiliar to those present.

Jiu’er explained, “She is the consort the rumors say had an illicit relationship with the Second Prince — the one whose alleged involvement led to the Second Prince’s confinement.”

“I… the Second Prince and I are completely innocent of any wrongdoing…” Consort Lian immediately moved to explain herself.

Jiu’er raised a hand to stop her, and Xiao Yingtao stepped over to take Consort Lian’s arm, saying gently, “Young Master believes you, and so do we. Come inside and rest first — your color doesn’t look well at all.”

“She will likely go into labor within the next few days. Xiao Yingtao, first thing tomorrow morning, go and find out about the midwives in the area — we may need to bring one back and have her on standby.”

“She is King Muhe’s consort. Will she not remain in the palace to await the birth?” Qiao Mu asked, her brow furrowed.

The lot of them were already hiding here under enough suspicion as it was. Adding a heavily pregnant woman to their number would make it that much easier to expose their whereabouts.

Even so, Jiu’er must have had her reasons for doing this, so Qiao Mu merely felt a flicker of doubt but raised no real objection.

Jiu’er said, “When we went tonight, we arrived just as the First Prince’s people were attempting to harm Consort Lian. Had we been a single step later, she would likely no longer be alive.”

No more needed to be said — that alone was sufficient, and everyone understood well enough.

If Consort Lian remained in the palace, she would certainly come to no good end. To leave her behind would have been to watch her die without lifting a finger.

Xiao Yingtao gave a nod and guided Consort Lian inside. Feng Jiu’er turned her gaze to Xing Zizhou and Tasang Nan.

“Let us speak inside,” said Xing Zizhou.

Qiao Mu volunteered, “I’ll go see what Consort Lian might be lacking.”

“Very well.” Jiu’er dipped her head, then glanced back at Xue Gu. “Xue Gu, go and rest for now. I’ll call for you if anything comes up.”

“Mm.” Xue Gu never objected to Feng Jiu’er’s instructions anyway. She had no need to deliberate with the others — whatever Jiu’er asked of her, she simply did.

At times Jiu’er wondered why Xue Gu followed her every word so implicitly, this manner of living together feeling as though it had long since become natural — as if they had been accustomed to it for a very, very long time.

Yet at other times, she noticed that when Xue Gu looked at her, it was as though she were looking through her at someone else entirely.

Could it truly be that Xue Gu was once her mother’s subordinate?

Xing Zizhou went into the room first. Feng Jiu’er followed behind, but just before entering the door, she pressed something into Tasang Nan’s hand where he stood keeping watch outside.

“Find a way to keep watch on this person tonight — find out who he goes to meet. He is still unconscious in Consort Lian’s sleeping chambers as we speak; by my estimate, he should come around in about half an hour.”

If she said half an hour, it would be precisely half an hour, without any doubt.

But Tasang Nan hesitated slightly. “Please allow Qiao Mu to accompany me.”

The imperial palace was not a place he could move through freely — his lightness technique was not yet skilled enough for that.

“That is exactly what I had in mind.” A glint of quiet amusement passed through Feng Jiu’er’s eyes. She had not expected Tasang Nan to be this careful in his thinking — nor that he would be free of any desire to claim sole credit, let alone attempt something beyond his abilities.

Except for that one time when he had sought revenge — that truly had been a case of being overcome by hatred and rage.

“Go and tell Qiao Mu. She will know what to do.”

“Understood.” Tasang Nan took the scrap of fabric Feng Jiu’er had torn from the eunuch and turned to leave.

Feng Jiu’er stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind her. Xing Zizhou spoke at once: “The Second Prince has placed someone within the First Prince’s residence — a man who has served there for over a decade by the name of Yang Tao.”

“As for the Second Prince’s own household, he once had a trusted aide, but when the Second Prince fell from favor, that subordinate was implicated as well, and has been exiled to the borderlands — somewhere within the ranks of the soldiers.”

“There is also someone positioned close to the King himself… however, the Second Prince did not say explicitly who this person is. He likely feared our correspondence might be intercepted — and if so, that person’s life would be in grave danger.”

Jiu’er gave a nod. This person was clearly the key — if they could identify him, it would lend enormous weight to their plans.

“It seems we must meet with the Second Prince in person.” Certain things truly could not be spoken carelessly through letters — a single wrong word could cost countless lives.

Xing Zizhou nodded. Only face to face could they speak without restraint, though for now there was still no clear way to arrange such a meeting.

Something seemed to occur to him just then. He reached into his coat and drew out an object, presenting it to Feng Jiu’er with both hands.

“Jiu’er, this token — it is time to return it to its rightful owner.”

The Ninth Imperial Uncle’s command token!

Jiu’er received it and held it in her palm — heavy and solid, as though the Ninth Imperial Uncle himself were standing right beside her.

The flutter she had felt in her heart that evening surged back to the tip of her heart all at once. Looking down at the token, she felt her heart tremble terribly.

Xing Zizhou was just about to say something when a faint sound of movement came from outside.

“My people have arrived,” Xing Zizhou said. “Let me go see what the situation is.”

Seeing Jiu’er nod, he stepped quickly out through the door.

Jiu’er’s gaze remained fixed on the token in her hand. Only when she heard Xing Zizhou’s hurried footsteps returning did she finally tuck it away.

Xing Zizhou pushed the door open and entered, his expression carrying a complicated weight.

“What is it?”

“King Muhe…” Xing Zizhou drew a deep breath before continuing: “King Muhe was attacked tonight. His life hangs by a thread!”

Tonight… an assassination attempt?

Jiu’er’s heart gave a sudden lurch. On instinct, her hand rose to press against the place where her heart lay beating.

Tonight. King Muhe. The sleeping chambers. That presence — achingly, impossibly familiar…

With a start, she turned and moved toward the door.

…Ninth Imperial Uncle — is that you? Can it truly be you?