Feng Jiu had barely stepped out of the Ninth Prince’s manor when a figure approached her head-on.
Though the person’s appearance was unremarkable, Feng Jiu recognized the mark on his shoulder without hesitation and moved to meet him.
“My lord.” The visitor inclined toward her and leaned in, dropping his voice. “Something has happened at the Nanmen manor.”
Nanmen Ye had fallen ill. The Nanmen manor was now in an uproar, and various factions had begun to stir, each waiting to seize power the moment Nanmen Ye stepped down.
On the surface, it appeared that with Nanmen Ye out of the picture, the eldest son — General Nanmen Ding, father of Nanmen Xu — held the greatest authority.
But in truth, the second and third masters each commanded their own military forces. Individually, neither could match Nanmen Ding — but if the two were to join forces?
Nanmen Ding lived in fear of exactly this: his two younger brothers uniting against him. If that happened, standing alone, he would find it no easy matter to suppress them entirely.
As for Nanmen Ding’s sons — each one held the title of heir, personally bestowed by Emperor Qiwen. Apart from Nanmen Xu, the other heirs each held a portion of authority in their own right. If the sons stood united behind their father, Nanmen Ding’s position would be secure — but if even one of them sided with a second or third uncle, then who would ultimately hold the reins of the Nanmen clan was truly impossible to say.
Furthermore, what was happening on Nanmen Rong’s side remained unknown. Nanmen Rong had once been Empress — the military forces under her command surpassed even those of Nanmen Ding.
Yet for the past two days, no word had come from Nanmen Rong. With Nanmen Ye having fallen ill, her silence was conspicuous.
In short, the Nanmen manor was in chaos. Everyone was vying for power, and no one knew what the future held — nor which person to align with in order to be on the right side of things.
“Understood. Keep watching. Report back to me the moment anything develops.” Feng Jiu listened, then dismissed him with a wave.
“Yes!” The spy bowed and departed at once.
Feng Jiu looked up at the sky. Today, it seemed, she would not be returning to rest.
She changed direction — clearly not heading back toward the Hall of Heavenly Secrets. This direction led to the imperial palace.
“Are you truly going to involve yourself in the matter between the Nanmen clan and Emperor Qiwen?” The person behind her had not made any effort to conceal his presence, so Feng Jiu had sensed him the moment he emerged.
“Your Highness — was there something further you wished to instruct me in?” Feng Jiu turned and inclined toward him, her manner polite and distant.
This girl always had a way of sealing his heart completely shut.
He let out a soft sound of displeasure. “Emperor Qiwen is a man of wolfish ambition. Involve yourself in this, and in the end you will be nothing more than a piece used for his purposes.”
“If His Majesty has need of Feng Jiu, does Your Highness truly think Feng Jiu has any choice in the matter?”
Beneath all of heaven, there is none who stands outside the Emperor’s reach. When the Emperor wishes to make use of you, is there any possibility of refusal?
“What if this lord gave you a choice?” She ought to know that he never made promises he could not keep. The only question was whether she was willing to rely on him.
But Feng Jiu raised her head and met his gaze, and with a faint smile said, “What difference is there between Your Highness and His Majesty, from Feng Jiu’s perspective? If Feng Jiu refuses to be used by His Majesty, how is she to know that staying beside Your Highness, she would not be used by Your Highness as well?”
“This lord would never use you!” Was she saying this to provoke him deliberately?
“That, Feng Jiu would not dare presume to judge. However, Your Highness — the path Feng Jiu walks is at least a path of her own choosing. Please do not obstruct her, and do not interfere.”
Zhan Qingcheng thought that if his health were any worse, she would send him coughing up blood and collapsing on the spot.
“You compare this lord to common others!” He stepped forward.
Feng Jiu immediately sensed a wave of dangerous energy bearing down on her and hurriedly retreated two steps. This man truly could not be pushed too far.
But she genuinely had not intended to provoke him. After giving Leng Yue a thorough beating earlier, her mood was decent enough — she had no desire to irritate him.
She simply had urgent matters to attend to and no patience for entanglement with him right now.
Besides, since she was nominally “allied” with Emperor Qiwen, she could not afford to be seen keeping close company with the Ninth Prince. Emperor Qiwen had eyes everywhere — someone could discover them together at any moment.
His nightly visits to her at the Hall of Heavenly Secrets were beyond her control, but at least that was within the hall, unlikely to be seen by outsiders.
But right now, she had left through the Ninth Prince’s manor’s rear gate, and the Ninth Prince himself was at her side. If her luck was poor, someone might truly spot them.
“Your Highness, Feng Jiu means nothing untoward by this. It is only that Feng Jiu is about to enter the palace — and Your Highness should understand that if someone with ill intentions were to see Feng Jiu in Your Highness’s company, it would cause trouble for her as well.”
She retreated another two steps, trying to put distance between them.
Zhan Qingcheng narrowed his eyes, displeasure evident. “This lord has said before — whatever the matter, as long as you speak—”
“Your Highness, Feng Jiu only wishes to handle her own affairs. Does Your Highness intend for Feng Jiu to spend her entire life sheltering behind Your Highness, never to have a life of her own?”
He saw nothing wrong with that. She would stand behind him; he would keep her safe. Was that not how a lifetime should be spent?
Feng Jiu drew a quiet breath. It was clear that without saying something pointed, this man would simply not listen.
She lowered her voice and said coolly, “As for why the Empress Dowager took poison last night — Your Highness knows better than Feng Jiu does. Your Highness cannot even manage his own affairs. How do you propose to keep others safe?”
It would undoubtedly wound his pride — his towering, unassailable pride. But she was in a hurry to leave and had no other recourse.
Feng Jiu kept her expression unreadable and continued, “Your Highness — if you truly wish for Feng Jiu to willingly stand behind you, perhaps Your Highness ought to first resolve his own affairs.”
“You don’t trust this lord?” She was questioning his capability.
“One could put it that way.” Feng Jiu’s words were blunt and unsparing. “Feng Jiu does not believe that standing behind Your Highness guarantees safety. Your Highness — Feng Jiu has pressing matters. She will take her leave.”
She knew Ninth Imperial Uncle’s temperament well. Now that she had said things this harshly, he would certainly not continue to press her.
And so she left without difficulty.
She slipped down a narrow side path, disappearing from Zhan Qingcheng’s line of sight, then lightly pushed off the ground and leapt upward, racing swiftly in the direction of the imperial palace.
Along the way, she detected no one following her.
Ninth Imperial Uncle had been nearby just moments ago. With his level of ability, if anyone had been watching, he would surely have sensed it.
This time, it seemed she had not been spotted by Emperor Qiwen’s informants.
Such things could not afford a single misstep. One unexpected complication could bring everything crashing down.
Reaching the great tree outside the palace gates, Feng Jiu drew out a prepared slip of paper and a specially made brush, dashed down a few quick characters, and dropped it into the hollow of the tree.
As always, she applied the seal — confirmed it was intact — collected her things, and quickly departed the small grove, heading for the palace.
Fearful of being seen, she had kept her words especially brief. She could only hope Nanmen Xu would understand.