“If I do not go today, tomorrow I still must face it. How long can I keep running?”

The color in Nanmen Xu’s face had already improved — he simply did not want to worry Feng Jiu.

In a measured tone, he said: “I am only going back to look in on things. At most, I will be scolded a few times for not caring about family matters.”

“I doubt it is quite so simple, coming to call for you at a moment like this.” Feng Jiu was not so optimistic.

Ninth Prince had only returned to the imperial city the day before. Now, every faction within the city was stirring — some quietly consolidating their strength to stand against him, others seeking to curry his favor.

The Nanmen Clan, having once been the chief perpetrators of harm against Ninth Prince, could not possibly be forgiven — not even with three kneelings and nine prostrations. Their only path was to resist. Seeking favor was not an option.

Being summoned back at a time like this was almost certainly connected to the matter of dealing with Ninth Prince.

“Just play the fool — act as though you know nothing, understand nothing. Say that you are nothing more than a hired hand earning a modest wage. Above all, do not let them think you have any value to exploit.”

Feng Jiu offered these parting words of advice as Nanmen Xu turned to leave.

A faint smile rose to the corners of Nanmen Xu’s eyes, and at last he gave a nod and walked away.

With Jiu’er’s counsel to guide him, what was there to fear? Since the day he had chosen to serve her, he had decided he would no longer fear what others called a path of blades and fire. Otherwise, half a year ago, he would not have offended his own grandfather for her sake.

The people of the Nanmen Clan were waiting just outside. But as Nanmen Xu was nearly at the exit, he abruptly left his attendant behind and turned back.

Feng Jiu had just stepped out from inside — and very nearly walked straight into him.

“What is it? Were you not just on your way back?” She took half a step back and steadied herself.

Nanmen Xu had been walking with too much urgency and had very nearly collided with Feng Jiu as she came out. Once she regained her footing, he took a sudden step forward and gripped her by the arm.

A tall and handsome young man on one side; a slender, graceful young figure on the other. The two of them standing together made for a scene that set the imagination wandering.

Feng Jiu was somewhat taken aback. Nanmen Xu was truly not someone who wore his emotions openly — moments of agitation were rare for him. Yet to be this agitated right now — what was the cause?

She, of course, entertained no thoughts of any sort between men and women. Without those feelings, without that inclination, any scene naturally appeared clear and uncomplicated.

“What are you doing?” Feng Jiu looked down at the large hand gripping her arm. “Do not give people something to laugh about.”

Two grown men clutching and tugging at each other — what sort of spectacle was that? If someone were to see them, word would spread and they would once again have to contend with no shortage of gossip.

“Given the position we are both in right now, we are just waiting to be struck no matter what we do.” Nanmen Xu drew in a deep breath — he who had always been accustomed to a stillness as calm as quiet water. Yet in this moment, something surged through him, like long-suppressed ardor finally straining against its confines.

“Jiu’er, we cannot keep letting ourselves be struck. If we do, we will never be able to stand tall.”

Feng Jiu said nothing, only watched him in quiet silence.

Nanmen Xu’s fingers tightened slightly, and he spoke with a low, steady force: “Since there is no escaping it, then find a way to strike back — Jiu’er, you are the one who taught me this!”

“You…”

“You need say nothing. I only ask that you believe in me. I promise I will not let you remain in a position where you are forever taking blows. Give me time — I know I can do this.”

Nanmen Xu released her, turned, and walked away.

Feng Jiu let out a slow breath and finally walked through the doorway. By the time she looked up again, that tall, slender figure had already moved far away — and after passing beneath the arching gateway, vanished entirely from sight.

Her feelings were complicated. She could not quite name the sensation. She only stood there at the entrance, watching the archway — for how long, she did not know — before at last turning and walking away.

In the rear courtyard, Qiao Mu was still directing everyone in organizing the medicinal herbs.

Many of the herbs that had just been delivered needed to be sun-dried for half a day before they could be moved into the medicine storehouse. All of that work fell to Qiao Mu and Xiao Yingtao to oversee.

Feng Jiu walked through the rear courtyard on a quick inspection, then personally carried the midday meal over to Feng Yinan.

Feng Yinan was not in his room — which was a little surprising. He generally had little inclination to go out.

For a young man who had lost the use of both legs, it was natural to feel some reluctance at being seen by others. He had only recently managed to rebuild his confidence, and had reached a point where he no longer minded so much being in people’s sight.

But taking the initiative to go out — that was still something he rarely did.

“Where has Yinan gone?” Feng Jiu, carrying the midday meal, stepped out of the room and asked a passing attendant.

“Young Master Nan is in the rear courtyard practicing his steps.” The attendant answered respectfully.

“Practicing his steps? Who is watching over him?”

“No one is watching. Young Master Nan would not allow anyone to follow.”

“I understand. You may go.” Feng Jiu dismissed the attendant and carried the midday meal toward the rear courtyard pavilion.

She set the meal down on the stone table in the pavilion, then immediately went to search for Feng Yinan.

Feng Yinan was behind a cluster of flowering shrubs. His wheelchair sat quietly at a distance. He himself was holding two crutches, making laborious, effortful strides forward.

Judging by the distance between him and the wheelchair, it was clear he had been walking for a very long time.

Feng Jiu lightened her footsteps and moved silently to a spot not far behind him.

Feng Yinan was fully absorbed in his effort, unaware of anyone approaching from behind, and continued to move forward one step at a time.

His gait was unsteady — he had virtually no strength in his legs. Every ounce of support came entirely from his arms. The effort of having come this far must have been absolutely exhausting. On such a cool day, his clothes were completely soaked through with sweat.

His dark hair was thoroughly drenched. His face and forehead were covered in perspiration; large drops of sweat fell one after another, a testament to the effort he was exerting in this very moment.

Feng Jiu followed behind him in silence and simply watched — for at least the duration it takes two incense sticks to burn.

Until, at last, one of Feng Yinan’s crutches suddenly slipped. He lurched, nearly tumbling to the ground — and only then did Feng Jiu stride quickly forward and catch him.

“Young Master?” Feng Yinan looked up in startled surprise. Then, taking in his own bedraggled state, he immediately grew uncomfortable: “Young Master, I was not doing this on purpose… I only wanted to…”

“You only wanted to, because today your legs seemed to have just the faintest trace of sensation — so you decided to come out here and try on your own?”

Feng Jiu steadied him and helped him sit on the edge of a nearby flower bed, then took out a cloth and wiped the sweat from his face.

Feng Yinan was momentarily stunned. Feng Jiu smiled and said: “The medicine I have been using for you — I have some expectation of the effects it might bring. But your recovery is going even better than I imagined.”

She looked down at his legs. The fabric of his trousers was soaked with sweat; one could well imagine what he had endured just now.

“It looks as though — in less than a month — you may genuinely be able to set aside both of these crutches.”

“Less than a month?” Even the night before, Feng Yinan had not quite dared to allow himself too much hope. But today — today, he truly saw hope.

He exhaled in a labored breath — from exhaustion, and from emotion.

“Yes. In less than a month, you will certainly recover. Do you believe me?”

“Of course I believe you!” Feng Yinan was so overcome that even his breathing grew unsteady: “In this entire world, the person I trust most is you, Young Master!”

If Young Master said less than a month — then it would be less than a month.

He believed. Whatever Young Master said — he believed.