“The fact that he has lost all his martial arts is undeniable. Regardless of anything else, given who he is now, even if he truly harbors malicious intentions, he no longer has the ability to act on them.”

Moreover, during this period, Feng Jiu’er had frequently discussed the ways of governing a nation with Tuoba Keyan, and she had come to discover that Tuoba Keyan was, in truth, a remarkably kind person. He carried the welfare of the people in his heart and possessed such keen wisdom that, if she were being candid, compared to the Second Prince she had encountered in the Muhe Kingdom, this First Prince was far better suited to rule as the sovereign of a nation.

Of course, that was on the condition that he had not recalled the tragic death of his imperial concubine mother, had not allowed those memories to seize control of his thoughts, and had not let hatred cloud his innately good and virtuous mind.

“Everyone, please stop regarding him with such suspicion. If a person is suspected for long enough, even one who is good by nature will eventually be driven to become a villain.”

Feng Jiu’er’s words made Xiao Yingtao’s cheeks flush red. In the end, she simply shrugged, unfazed: “Fine, I just won’t mention him anymore.”

But as for befriending Tuoba Keyan — that was absolutely impossible. The scars he had left on her body were still there. Could she simply forget them?

“Alright, tonight is a happy occasion — why speak of such things?” Qiao Mu raised her cup toward everyone. “Zǐzhōu isn’t here, Xiao Yingtao — you’ll have to drink his share too.”

Ever since Nanmen Xu had returned to the Nanmen Manor, Xing Zizhou had completely taken over his duties. For a solid month, he had been traveling between various places and rarely came back to gather with everyone.

Xiao Yingtao shot Qiao Mu a look and muttered, “His share — what does that have to do with me?”

“Please. After everything that’s happened, what’s there left to deny? I saw it with my own eyes — Zizhou spent the night in your room, and didn’t come out until nearly dawn.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. He was just keeping me company playing chess. We didn’t do anything!” Xiao Yingtao’s face instantly turned crimson, the color spreading from her neck all the way up to her ears.

Feng Jiu’er burst out laughing. “So you’re saying — there really was an overnight stay?”

“I — I —” Xiao Yingtao, being a young woman after all, though she knew no one meant any harm, was still so flustered she wanted to sink into the floor.

“Drink, drink.” Feng Yinan was all smiles as well. Everyone was in high spirits that night, and no one took the teasing to heart.

“Young Master, Xiao Yingtao, Qiao — thank you all for taking care of me during this time. I, Feng Yinan, have no way to repay you. In this lifetime, I vow to follow each of you to the death!”

He raised his bottle and drank it down himself.

“Young Master, his leg has only just healed — will drinking so much be a problem?” Qiao Mu was a little worried.

“It’s fine. His leg was not a new injury. A little drink won’t hurt, as long as his stomach holds up.” Feng Jiu’er raised her cup as well and drained it in one go.

She wasn’t much of a drinker and rarely touched alcohol in ordinary times, but tonight she was genuinely happy, and before she realized it, she had drunk several cups more than intended.

Feng Yinan was another matter entirely — he was never one to keep his feelings hidden. Feng Jiu’er had said he could drink, so naturally he was going to take full advantage and drink to his heart’s content.

Deep into the night, the rear courtyard was lively and bustling. All the servants who were not on duty gathered in the courtyard eating and drinking.

Before long, Feng Yinan’s tolerance gave out. Qiao Mu helped him back to rest. Feng Jiu’er also rose to her feet, swaying slightly as she made her way back to her room.

Yanu had been on medication throughout and did not drink that night. He didn’t seem to care much for drinking in any case — the whole evening, he simply helped grill meat for Feng Jiu’er and the others.

Seeing that Feng Jiu’er was leaving, he quickly set down what he was holding and moved to support her.

Feng Jiu’er gave him a gentle push and shook her head. Her eyes, usually clear and bright, were now noticeably clouded with drink. “No need… to help. I’m perfectly… perfectly clear-headed.”

Yanu couldn’t possibly set his mind at ease. He walked beside her the whole way, ready to catch her should she trip or stumble.

The rear courtyard of Tianji Hall was not particularly large, but the path back was still a short stretch. The evening breeze drifted in, and the cool air helped dissipate some of Feng Jiu’er’s intoxication.

She looked up and caught sight of Yanu’s tall, slender silhouette. His face was currently wrapped in bandages, making for a rather comical appearance, yet that figure of his was unmistakably striking.

“You must have been quite the handsome man originally.” Feng Jiu’er giggled softly and grabbed hold of his sleeve. “When exactly did the disfigurement happen — really, you can’t remember at all?”

Yanu shook his head. His eyes remained calm and undisturbed. He still moved to steady her.

Feng Jiu’er let out a long sigh. She gazed at the two shadows stretched long across the ground by the moonlight, and a trace of loneliness that was difficult to perceive flickered across the depths of her eyes.

“Yes… life is just that helpless sometimes. You don’t even know why you were disfigured, or when.”

She was certain that the scars on his face were connected to the poison in his body — but as for when that poison had been administered, Yanu himself had absolutely no knowledge of it.

It was much like her own situation. Feng Jiu’er had no idea when poison had begun to be introduced into this body she now inhabited, bit by bit.

Of course, there was a reason for her ignorance — she had, after all, transmigrated into this world. Her memories of this place had a gap of nearly ten full years.

Those fragmented, scattered memories belonged to the original Feng Jiu’er. And yet, she always felt — somehow — that she truly was Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er rubbed her head. Whenever she started thinking about the “original Feng Jiu’er” or the “true Feng Jiu’er,” her mind would descend into a complete muddle.

“Yanu, how many years have you been by my side?” The question had never had a definitive answer. It seemed she had not dared to ask it casually in the past, for fear of arousing suspicion in others.

After all, she was a transmigrator — not the true Feng Jiu’er.

When she had first arrived, she had felt a vague sense of guilt, afraid that someone might see through her and discover she was an imposter standing in for the original.

But now, having long since grown accustomed to things, such worries no longer frightened her. She even felt, on some level, that she simply was the true Feng Jiu’er.

Yanu considered for a moment, then reached out and gestured.

“More than ten years?” So he had been at her side ever since Feng Jiu’er was burned in that great fire all those years ago?

Ten years — such a long time. And yet Feng Jiu’er’s clearest memories of him spanned less than a year.

But even that stretch of less than a year felt as though they had known each other for over a decade.

The moment she stepped back into her room, the effect of the alcohol began to creep up on her again. She leaned against the table and watched Yanu making up her bed, a warmth settling quietly in the depths of her eyes.

Some people… had not appeared in a very long time.

She understood — if he hadn’t appeared, there would always be a reason for it.

She no longer had to be like she used to be, insisting on knowing the answer to everything. Some things simply did not need to be pursued to their very end.

“Yanu…” The moment she sank back onto the bed, she turned to look at him, her eyes blinking slowly. “Go rest. I’m not drunk. I just want to sleep.”

Yanu nodded, pulled the blanket over her, blew out the candle, and quietly left.

Feng Jiu’er lay staring into some unnamed corner of the darkness, her gaze still and sunken.

Her mind was calm — yet a quiet unease lingered.

It had been nearly a month now. Where on earth had he gone?