If one were to count all the overstepping deeds the Nanmeng clan had committed at court, three days and three nights wouldn’t be enough.

Setting other things aside, just take the heirs-apparent in the Nanmeng manor.

The title of heir-apparent was originally hereditary—only one person per generation could hold it. But the Nanmeng clan, when it came down to it, was not a princely household at all, and shouldn’t have had an heir-apparent in the first place.

An heir-apparent was the heir of a prince; even in a prince’s household, there could be at most one.

Yet the Nanmeng clan not only had an heir-apparent, but every single son had to be personally granted the title of heir-apparent by the Emperor—all just to flaunt to the world how the Nanmeng manor was different from everyone else.

This was absolutely something unheard of throughout history.

Nanmeng Rong had always called Emperor Qiwen a spineless emperor, and not without reason—how was Emperor Qiwen’s tolerance of the Nanmeng clan any different from being a puppet emperor?

This Duke, Nanmeng Ye, simply got whatever he wanted, which was why Emperor Qiwen feared that one day, once Nanmeng Ye had enough of everything and grew bored, he would come for his throne.

Now that there was a chance to uproot the Nanmeng clan entirely, he was more excited and thrilled than anyone.

“Nanmeng Xu…” The name seemed familiar from somewhere. Emperor Qiwen pressed his lips together, pondering for a moment.

The Chief Eunuch reminded him, “Has Your Majesty forgotten? Back when Consort Rong was still Empress, in order to stop the Crown Prince from being with the Ninth Miss of the Feng family, she had Your Majesty bestow the Ninth Miss upon Heir Xu of the Nanmeng clan.”

“This Heir Xu is Nanmeng Xu—a person who has had no standing in the Nanmeng clan since childhood and holds no power whatsoever.”

“So it was him.” Emperor Qiwen finally remembered—no wonder the name Nanmeng Xu had felt so familiar.

“The person they were willing to marry off to Feng Jiu’er must have been the junior member Nanmeng Rong disdained most. It seems this Nanmeng Xu truly is an unimportant presence within the Nanmeng clan.”

“This old servant has also heard that Nanmeng Xu is frequently bullied by his brothers within the manor. Even the Duke and General Nanmeng never think much of him. Last time, when Feng Jiu’er publicly called off the engagement, the Duke even beat Nanmeng Xu severely.”

“Is that so?” In that case, Nanmeng Xu must hate his Nanmeng family members to the bone.

Exactly, this was precisely the kind of person he needed! Someone who hated his Nanmeng family bitterly, yet had no real ability!

The Chief Eunuch nodded and said with a smile, “Absolutely true. This matter became a laughingstock for a while—quite a few people in the palace were spreading the story.”

Emperor Qiwen nodded, then suddenly smiled. “Good. Tomorrow, have someone quietly bring Nanmeng Xu into the palace. I want to see him myself!”

“Yes, this old servant obeys!”

When Feng Jiu went out, she sensed that someone must be following her.

Although the presence was very faint—faint enough to be almost indistinguishable from the sound of the wind—there was still a trace of it.

That person wasn’t the Ninth Imperial Uncle; if it were him, she likely wouldn’t sense even the slightest trace.

She originally had some matters to contact someone about, but with someone following her constantly, communicating was completely impossible. She frowned and switched to another path.

The presence behind her vanished silently the moment she turned onto another path.

Feng Jiu was somewhat surprised. She looked back—lush green trees lined both sides of the road, casting dappled shadows under the moonlight.

The wind blew past, the branches and leaves swaying gently, the drifting sound as calm as water—that faint, almost imperceptible presence had truly disappeared.

Why had the person following her vanished without a trace?

Did they feel she was no longer worth tailing, or had someone intercepted them?

But she was certain she hadn’t arranged for anyone to cover her tonight. These past few times entering the palace, she hadn’t even told her own people—only Aunt Xue knew.

Who exactly was secretly helping her?

Feng Jiu still didn’t dare to be careless. She walked some distance along this road and still found no one following her. After that, she turned onto yet another small path.

Eventually, she made her way back to that patch of woods. Only after confirming no one was watching did she remove the seal on the tree trunk and retrieve, from beneath the bark, a note she had been expecting.

Nanmeng Xu’s letter contained just a few simple words, with no context given—but Feng Jiu understood it perfectly.

This fellow really was clever; his rapport with her seemed almost natural. Before coming tonight, she had left him a note—just two words: “hand injury.”

He had actually managed, in a single night, to make Nanmeng Ye’s wrist “injured”!

The Chief Eunuch had seen that Nanmeng Ye’s hand was injured—genuinely injured—but it wasn’t the same cut Feng Jiu had previously inflicted on the assassin.

The assassin was Master Lanyue of the First Manor Under Heaven—how could that possibly be Nanmeng Ye?

But now, constrained by the power of the Nanmeng clan, Emperor Qiwen certainly wouldn’t dare to actually bring Nanmeng Ye in for a thorough investigation.

And with Nanmeng Ye’s hand conveniently injured—witnessed firsthand by the Chief Eunuch—once reported back, what reason would Emperor Qiwen have left to doubt?

Either way, whether he doubted it or not, his determination to swallow up all of the Nanmeng clan’s military power wouldn’t change.

Now, this had simply given him a perfect reason that he must get rid of the Nanmeng clan.

Feng Jiu destroyed the note, took out the specially-made pen she carried with her, and wrote a single character on paper: “Mediocre.”

She tossed it into the hollow of the tree, then resealed the bark.

This time, she once again carefully surveyed her surroundings, and only after confirming there truly was no one following did she smile faintly and step away.

Whoever it was secretly helping her, she was grateful to that person—if not for their existence, this character “Mediocre” might not have made it safely into Nanmeng Xu’s hands.

The plan was proceeding step by step. Whether the Nanmeng clan’s fortune would truly come to an end—they would just have to wait and see.

However, that masked Madam in the palace was likely a formidable figure to deal with as well.

Whether Nanmeng Xu could get past her was still uncertain…

“What is your relationship with Feng Jiu?” Jian Yi stared at the man standing before him.

Dressed entirely in black that blended into the night, the man wore a half-mask over his face, covering most of it.

Though his face was indistinct, just from his bearing alone, one could tell he was a stunningly handsome man.

The moment the man had made his move earlier, Jian Yi had already realized—this was Di Wu Ya, the leader of the Tianzun Sect, a figure whose true identity remained unknown to this day and who struck fear into everyone in the martial world.

Di Wu Ya had actually been secretly protecting Feng Jiu—what exactly was his relationship with her?

At that moment, Di Wu Ya’s gaze also fell on Jian Yi. He raised his long fingers, the tip of his sword pointed straight at Jian Yi’s face.

Though separated by distance, the sword energy seemed to bear down on his opponent in an instant.

“In the martial world, I’ve only ever seen one person who could draw a sword this fast.”

Di Wu Ya’s expression was as cold as frost, his sharp gaze like a blade, scattering cold light.

“You’re Jueyan, Beimu’s number one assassin. Who made you willingly become his lapdog?”