Yanu had cooked a porridge — a very thin one.

After Feng Jiu’er had changed into a fresh set of clothes, she had Mu Mu support Feng Yinan upright, and she personally fed him the porridge spoon by spoon.

Feng Yinan’s consciousness at this point was still hazy and adrift. Though he had pulled through, he could only manage brief moments of clarity.

After each brief awakening, he would slip back into a state of semi-consciousness.

Feng Jiu’er tended to him until he had finished the porridge. Afterward, Mu Mu stayed by Feng Yinan’s side and sent Jiu’er back to her room to rest.

In truth, he knew that even back in her room, Feng Jiu’er might not be able to sleep.

But her nerves had been strung taut all day. Though she had appeared calm while applying the needles, Mu Mu had watched the entire process from beginning to end — the sweat Feng Jiu’er had shed today likely exceeded what she had shed throughout an entire previous year.

She had been tense the whole time, deeply and utterly tense, yet she had not dared to say so, could not say so — not a single word could be uttered.

This girl — she could accomplish what others could not. Today, once again, she had shown him what that meant.

How… could he ever forget?

Jiu’er returned to her room and, as Mu Mu had predicted, after bathing and changing her clothes, she sat by the window, eyes fixed on the book in her hands, yet unable to take in a single word.

Yanu brought her something to eat. Feng Jiu’er only managed a couple of bites before setting it aside.

Yanu looked at her this way, his heart aching for her. Not long after clearing away the evening meal, he brought her another bowl of porridge.

“Yanu, I am not hungry. I have already eaten.” Jiu’er finally noticed that Yanu had been keeping himself busy for her sake all this time. “I truly am not hungry.”

Yet Yanu nudged the bowl closer to her and called out to her softly a few times.

Though it was nothing but simple, uniform sounds, Feng Jiu’er understood — he was urging her to eat.

Feng Jiu’er looked at Yanu, and she did not know how long she sat staring at him. Then, gradually, her eyes began to redden.

“He is a kind person. His heart is full of righteous fire, yet ever since he came to follow me, he has not had a single day of peace.”

She knew, in truth, that what had happened to Yinan could not have been caused by anything Yinan himself had done. Yinan’s injuries were certainly because of her, because of the Heavenly Mechanism Hall.

She simply had not yet worked out why someone targeting the Heavenly Mechanism Hall would take revenge on Feng Yinan.

This time it was absolutely not Cold Moon. If Cold Moon had gotten in, it would have been impossible for everyone to remain completely unaware.

Either this person’s martial arts were extraordinarily powerful to an incomprehensible degree, or there was a spy within their Heavenly Mechanism Hall right now.

Why was it a spy again!

The death of Shan Yi Dao felt as though it had been only yesterday. Every scene of his dying moment remained etched in Feng Jiu’er’s memory with perfect clarity.

She was not weak. She simply did not want to face it — because once the truth was uncovered, that person… would likely meet the same fate as Shan Yi Dao.

She also did not want to suspect the people around her. They had faced life and death together for so long. They would never treat Feng Yinan in such a cruel way. They absolutely would not.

Could it have been an outsider who broke in?

Yanu did not know how to comfort her either, let alone the fact that he could not speak at all.

He could only gently pat her on the shoulder, offering her some small measure of comfort.

Feng Jiu’er closed her eyes, and the tears she had held back for so long finally slid down from the corners of her eyes.

She did not know how much time had passed. She raised the back of her hand to wipe the corners of her eyes, then reached out and picked up the bowl from the side table.

The entire bowl of porridge was finished in just a few moments, not a drop left.

“Hmm…” Yanu looked at her, a flicker of puzzlement in his eyes. Was she going out again tonight?

Feng Jiu’er nodded. “Tonight, barring any unexpected circumstances, I will be going out. Go and assist Mu Mu — whatever he needs, prepare it for him.”

Yanu nodded. He never inquired into her affairs, just as he always had.

Later that night, at the stroke of midnight, someone came hurrying over and summoned Feng Jiu’er into the palace.

When Feng Jiu’er arrived at Liyuan, Long Feiyan was already drenched in cold sweat from the pain.

“My Lady, hold on. Tonight, your legs will be able to walk again.”

“You said… what?” Long Feiyan gasped for breath, fixing her gaze on Feng Jiu’er. Sweat beads slid down from her forehead and soaked the gauze covering her face, nearly driving her to tear it off.

Feng Jiu’er gave a firm nod. “That is right. Tonight, as long as My Lady can hold on.”

She took out her silver needles and looked at her. “I am about to apply the needles now, and it is not to lessen your pain. On the contrary, I am going to fully open up your meridians — you will feel even greater pain than you do now.”

“Doctor Feng Jiu, our mistress, she…” Qing Zhi looked at Long Feiyan, her face filled with concern.

Long Feiyan paid no attention to her. She only fixed her gaze on the silver needles in Feng Jiu’er’s hands, and after a moment, gave a nod.

Feng Jiu’er hesitated no further. The needles descended, and Long Feiyan’s face instantly drained of all color, utterly bloodless.

Qing Zhi and Qing Ye stood guard to one side, their hearts clenched tight, unable to relax.

It must truly be agonizing, for otherwise, given their mistress’s strength of will, how could she be unable to bear it?

Such pain would have sent an ordinary person falling unconscious long ago.

The agony persisted for approximately another hour. The deep furrow that had gripped Long Feiyan’s brow gradually began to ease.

Qing Ye, standing guard beside her and wiping away her sweat from time to time, noticed at this moment that the sweat on their mistress’s brow had visibly lessened.

“Mistress, how do you feel now?” Qing Zhi had noticed this as well and asked anxiously.

Long Feiyan said nothing, only nodded.

Did that mean the pain had truly passed?

Qing Zhi snapped her head up to look at Feng Jiu’er, barely containing her excitement. “Doctor, our mistress’s legs now… how are they now?”

Previously their mistress had indeed been able to stand, but still could not walk. Just now Feng Jiu had said that by tonight their mistress would be able to walk — so now, with the pain easing, did that mean it was truly possible?

Feng Jiu’er raised her hand to wipe the sweat from her brow, then stepped back several paces and looked at the veiled lady sitting in her wheelchair. “Perhaps My Lady may wish to try.”

Qing Ye and Qing Zhi immediately turned their eyes to Long Feiyan, so overcome with excitement that they could barely find words. “Mistress…”

Long Feiyan’s expression remained impassive as ever, yet her palms had curled into tight fists.

At last, her hands dropped to the armrests of the wheelchair, and she braced herself to stand.

Qing Ye and Qing Zhi immediately moved to support her, but a single cool glance from her sent them stumbling back in a hurry, not daring to approach.

Feng Jiu’er went to sit down to one side, watching with composed calm.

Though this veiled lady had been confined to her wheelchair for many years due to her injury, her subordinates still held her in such deep reverence. With just one glance, she commanded a presence as vast and boundless as the ocean.

Feng Jiu’er suddenly thought of the commanders on a battlefield.

Though she did not know herself why her mind turned to a battlefield swept by wind and sand, seeing the veiled lady’s domineering gaze, it was as if she could picture her seated high atop a horse, wielding a spear with a might that shook the four seas.

This veiled lady bore not the slightest trace of the coquettish allure one might expect of a harem consort. On the contrary, she exuded an upright and natural majesty — a towering, earth-spanning presence that compelled one to look up at her involuntarily.

Could it truly be that she was no consort of the inner palace at all, but rather a great figure of the imperial court?

In all these years in the kingdom of Bei Mu, aside from Long Feiyan who had fallen in battle on the front lines long ago, was there any other formidable female general to speak of?