At this moment, standing beside Feng Qingyin was only the little palace maid Linlong, personally selected and recruited by her from outside the palace.

With no one else present, Feng Qingyin dared to speak to the curtain.

The curtain was lifted, and out stepped a man of tall, slender build and striking features. “Yes. Last night Feng Jiu entered the palace and went to a derelict courtyard.”

“Could it be a courtyard in the Cold Palace?” When she heard “derelict courtyard,” the Cold Palace was the first thing Feng Qingyin thought of.

“It was not in the direction of the Cold Palace.” The man sat down in the chair beside her. In the presence of this Noble Consort of exalted and esteemed standing, he seemed to carry not the slightest trace of deference.

Linlong offered him clear tea, then retreated to Feng Qingyin’s side and stood in quiet attendance.

The man said, “It is a dilapidated courtyard in a remote corner of the western side. Feng Jiu is highly alert — I could not get close for the time being, so I was unable to make out which courtyard it was.”

“A derelict courtyard in a remote western corner?” Feng Qingyin murmured, thinking it over for a moment, yet still unable to work it out.

Though she had familiarized herself with essentially the entire rear palace, those truly remote corners — even if she had noticed them — she had never given a second thought to.

For the moment, she could not determine what place it might be.

Yet one thing could be ascertained: Emperor Qiwen had allowed Feng Jiu into the palace and directed him to such a remote, abandoned courtyard. This meant that courtyard surely held some secret that could not be brought to light.

Feng Jiu was a physician. Emperor Qiwen inviting him into the palace was most likely to treat someone.

Then who on earth was living in that derelict courtyard — someone important enough for Emperor Qiwen to personally call for a physician to see them?

Whoever resided in the rear palace was, in all likelihood, a woman. Could it be that besides Nanmeng Rong, there was another figure of significance hidden in this rear palace, one she had not yet discovered?

But if this person were significant, why would they live in a dilapidated, abandoned courtyard?

Feng Qingyin could not make sense of it. What baffled her most of all was when Emperor Qiwen and Feng Jiu had become connected.

This wretched Feng Jiu — was she, or was she not, Feng Jiu’er?

She had clearly seen his body with her own eyes. And yet now she was uncertain again.

She always felt that in every way, Feng Jiu looked just like Feng Jiu’er — yet he was male in body.

Truly vexing. This feeling — of being certain it was her, yet knowing it couldn’t be — was maddening.

“Jian Yi.” She turned her head to look at the man sitting beside her and suddenly lowered her voice. “Tonight, go and find out what’s there.”

The rear palace was, by its nature, no place for a man. And yet there was precisely such a man who, after Feng Qingyin entered the palace, had remained there all along.

His name was Jian Yi — a name Feng Qingyin had given him.

His true name, as a matter of fact, very few people likely knew.

He had lived within the palace for several months now, and the layout of the rear palace was essentially familiar to him down to its last detail.

The reason he was able to move freely in and out of the rear palace was his peerless lightness technique, combined with the fact that he had never previously encountered a formidable adversary within the palace.

There was also another reason: someone had always been covering for him. No matter whether it was food, clothing, lodging, or travel, everything was arranged for him in advance.

And so he lived within the palace — within Feng Qingyin’s Clear Fragrance Hall — and beyond Feng Qingyin and Linlong, who prepared his meals daily, not another soul knew of it.

So that night, when he left Clear Fragrance Hall and silently slipped into the most remote corner of the western rear palace, no one could detect his movement.

That was how he discovered the place was called Liyuan.

The plaque above was overgrown with creeping vines — if one didn’t look carefully, even the characters were impossible to make out.

He had previously seen Emperor Qiwen and a group with Feng Jiu come here, but because Emperor Qiwen was always accompanied by several concealed experts, and Feng Jiu herself was formidable, he had not dared approach.

Moreover, Jian Yi had never been particularly invested in affairs within the palace to begin with.

Had Feng Qingyin not harbored such an inexplicable obsession with Feng Jiu, he would never have paid such close attention to Feng Jiu’s affairs.

He scaled the high wall and slipped inside, moving through the shadows of the artificial rock gardens in the courtyard. With every step, Jian Yi exercised extraordinary care.

This place exuded a pervasive, uncanny energy. Though he was still within the outer courtyard, it already felt as though he could sense the strange aura emanating from deep within the inner courtyard.

There were experts here — and not just one.

Beyond those experts, a whole contingent of people lay in ambush at various corners throughout the inner courtyard. The defenses were so strict and dense that even the most honored consort’s chambers could not compare to a tenth of what was here.

What manner of person could command such formidable experts as their protection?

A faint stirring of interest arose in Jian Yi — the first time since taking up residence within the palace that he had felt drawn to anyone other than Feng Qingyin.

Parting the curtain of vine leaves, Jian Yi with ease located the silhouettes of over a dozen guards posted throughout the surrounding area.

These sentries concealed themselves exceptionally well. An ordinary martial artist would likely not find their positions at all.

Listening to their breathing patterns — while they couldn’t quite be called peak experts, they were genuinely high-ranking compared to the ordinary Imperial Guards, their martial arts decidedly superior.

But what made Jian Yi most cautious was the room deep within the inner courtyard — and the person inside that room.

No breath whatsoever. Yet with the keen, innate perception of a trained assassin, he knew that within it resided several experts.

Two of them had breathing so faint as to be nearly inaudible — the merest thread of sound. But there seemed to be a third presence, one whose breathing he could detect no trace of at all.

Yet he could feel that person’s existence. Without a doubt that was an expert among experts — and he was uncertain whether he himself could measure up.

He moved ten-odd paces behind the rock garden. The breathing of the two figures inside grew clearer, yet that most crucial third presence — he could still only sense them by instinct, never catching even the faintest real sound of breath.

To conceal one’s presence so completely — it was truly beyond belief.

Jian Yi grew ever more cautious. Knowing that moving closer would bring danger, yet his interest in that supreme expert only grew stronger.

To come away without having seen the true face of one so formidable — that would sit ill with him.

He shifted his footing and, without being detected by any of the hidden sentries, moved behind another rock formation. Closer and closer to the room on that far side.

Strange rocks filled this place — which made his passage convenient. Combined with the cover of nightfall, and despite how rigorously the guards were posted, Jian Yi advanced step by step toward that room.

The room’s light was not bright — a pale amber haze that drew no attention whatsoever from the people stationed outside.

No wonder whoever was here had apparently been hidden for years without ever being discovered.

Of course, with so many experts standing guard, anyone who did discover them would in all likelihood already have been silenced.

Jian Yi continued forward. The distance to the room had narrowed to only a few dozen paces. If he went a little further still — might he be able to leap up onto the roof and look in?

But in the very instant he took another step forward, without warning — a sharp crack — something pierced through the paper windowpane of the room and shot straight outward, hurtling directly at his face.

Jian Yi’s heart lurched. He wrenched himself sideways to dodge.

From inside the room, a figure burst out in a flying leap. In the moonlight, a flash of silver — and a sword’s tip had already arrived before Jian Yi’s face.