“Ah, ah—” Yanu stared at Feng Junzhuo, shaking his head desperately.

Feng Jiu’er could see clearly enough what Yanu meant—he had never meant to offend the Noble Consort at all.

But Yanu was mute. He couldn’t get out a single word.

The moment Feng Junzhuo saw the state Yanu was in—his face already twisted in pain, with blood smeared across it—he found the sight unbearable.

He waved a hand and said irritably, “Take him away.”

As for how badly he’d be beaten once dragged off, Feng Junzhuo no longer cared. The man had offended the Noble Consort; even if he were beaten to death, there’d be nothing worth pitying.

“Ah, ah ah—” Yanu was full of grievance, yet utterly helpless. He glanced once more at Feng Junzhuo, and the impatience on the man’s face extinguished whatever hope remained. He could only swallow his suffering as he had always done, hanging his head in despair as the servants began to drag him off.

“Master Feng, this servant’s face has been ruined, and now he’s offended the Noble Consort besides. Keeping him in Feng Manor serves no purpose.”

Just as the servants were about to haul Yanu away, Feng Jiu’er suddenly stepped forward. She gave Feng Junzhuo a smile and said, “This face of his would be perfect for testing a new medicine I’ve refined. I wonder, Master Feng, would you be willing to part with him and give this servant to me?”

“Of course—if Master Feng agrees, I’ll waive all fees for the Old Master’s future treatments. What do you say?”

“You… you want this servant?” Feng Junzhuo looked startled. Yanu was so hideous—what use could she possibly have for him?

Feng Jiu’er walked up to Yanu and suddenly reached out, taking hold of his chin.

She hadn’t realized it until she touched him—lifting his chin like this, she suddenly noticed just how tall Yanu was. By her estimate, he was nearly six foot three.

Yanu didn’t resist her touch at all, letting her tilt his chin up as she pleased.

Feng Jiu’er studied the scars on his face and said with a smile, “This face is quite the challenge for someone like me. I want to try—see if I can really heal him.”

“Sir, his face has been ruined for many years now. I’m afraid—”

“All the more reason to look forward to it!” Feng Jiu’er let go of Yanu’s chin and turned back to Feng Junzhuo, her face bright with excitement. “Master Feng, would you part with him or not?”

“This…” Feng Junzhuo still found the whole thing rather absurd—after all, in his eyes, this servant wasn’t worth a single coin. But if Master Jiu truly wanted him, there was no harm in it.

Miracle healers like him sought out difficult cases all the time; there was nothing strange about that.

Without challenges, how could one improve? And if he could truly cure someone whose face had been ruined for this long, then the name of the miracle healer Feng Jiu would surely ring even louder throughout the imperial city.

It was all in pursuit of future fame and fortune in the end—and that, Feng Junzhuo understood perfectly well.

He said, “If you truly want him, sir—”

“Absolutely not!” A woman’s voice suddenly cut into their conversation.

Yu Niang, now the wife of Master Feng, arrived just then, surrounded by a cluster of maidservants.

Decked out in gold and silver, her entourage put even Feng Junzhuo’s own retinue to shame.

She walked up to them without even bothering to bow to Feng Junzhuo, and said, “This man has offended the Noble Consort—how could anyone else simply take him away? Someone, drag him off and beat him to death!”

At this point, Feng Jiu’er understood completely—this was indeed a trap set by Feng Qingyin, meant to test her.

Yu Niang was watching her now too, with a strange, knowing smile, clearly intending to beat Yanu to death right in front of her, just to see whether she would intervene.

But for Feng Jiu’er as she was now, there was no need to lift a finger at all.

She said calmly, “I want this servant. If Master Feng won’t part with him, then… perhaps you’d reconsider for the sake of His Majesty?”

She raised her hand. In it was a token, gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight.

His Majesty’s token!

This time, not only was Feng Junzhuo startled—even Yu Niang was thoroughly shaken.

To see the token was as good as seeing His Majesty himself! In an instant, everyone present dropped to their knees, hastily bowing.

Yu Niang too was flustered, never having imagined that Feng Jiu held something so formidable.

There was no longer any question of waiting to see whether she’d act.

When someone held the Emperor’s own token, what need was there to lift a hand? Who would dare disobey?

Feng Jiu’er put the token away and walked up to Yanu, gently taking his hand. “From now on, follow me. Will you?” she said softly.

She no longer feared whatever test Feng Qingyin had set for her. Given her current relationship with Emperor Qiwen, even if he genuinely suspected she was Feng Jiu’er, he wouldn’t dare move against her for now.

And behind her stood someone of unknown identity but evidently formidable power—the masked lady.

As long as the masked lady’s legs still needed her treatment, her own days would remain secure.

Yanu looked at her, and his eyes suddenly grew hot.

After a long moment, he nodded solemnly.

Feng Jiu’er turned back to Feng Junzhuo. Feng Junzhuo hurriedly said, “I’ll have his deed of servitude sent to Tianji Hall at once.”

…

It had been nearly half a year since master and servant had last been alone together.

The moment they stepped through the door, Yanu suddenly seized hold of Feng Jiu’s hand, gripping it tightly, saying nothing at all—only staring intently at her face.

Of course, he couldn’t say a word either way. But that look in his eyes, that overwhelmed expression, told Feng Jiu everything she needed to know: he had recognized her the very first instant he saw her.

Her disguise really wasn’t bad at all—but what was meant to be seen through, would always be seen through.

Feng Jiu’er let out a soft sigh, had him sit down, and began tending to his wounds.

There wasn’t much bleeding, in truth, but the marks left by the rod across his body were rather severe. If they hadn’t intervened, more of that beating would surely have caused internal injury.

Fortunately, they hadn’t hit him too viciously—mostly just flesh wounds.

“While I was away, did they keep beating you like this?”

Yanu shook his head. Seeing Feng Jiu’er about to remove his robe, he flushed and showed some reluctance.

Feng Jiu’er laughed. “Look at me—right now I’m a man.”

Yanu still shook his head, but let her undress him all the same.

There were indeed old wounds on his body, though not many—these past months, no one had really beaten him regularly. Today’s incident had simply been bad luck, running into Feng Qingyin.

But now that Feng Qingyin had taken notice of him, no matter how he tried to keep out of sight, that woman likely wouldn’t let him live an easy life from now on.

After rubbing medicinal wine into the bruises along his back, Feng Jiu’er personally helped him back into his robe. Then she took hold of his hand, her fingertips settling on the pulse point of his wrist.

Yanu looked somewhat surprised and tried to pull back, but Feng Jiu said, “There’s poison that’s been in your body all along. I suspect your voice and your face were both ruined because of this toxin. Let me try—let’s see if I can clear it out of you completely.”