Qing Ye fixed her gaze on Zhan Qingcheng, and for the first moment, found that she too could not find her voice.

She was a woman past thirty, and had never believed that any man in the world could cause her mind to waver. This was the first time — and would likely be the last.

Such exceptional beauty as this ought to exist only in the heavens above. And this young man’s complexion was a little pale, clearly marked by injury — which made him, somehow, all the more pitiable to the eye.

But Qing Ye was not Qing Zhi, and her years showed in how she held herself.

No matter how captivating the Ninth Prince was, she was still able to regard him with composure. To her, he was simply a young person.

The curtain was suddenly lifted by a wind that came from nowhere, and the woman within the palanquin caught a full and clear view of Zhan Qingcheng’s features.

She curved her thin lips into a slight smile. Those deep, dark eyes, in the night breeze, carried a shadowed luster that no one could quite see through.

“You are truly a beauty without equal — and yet you do not resemble either of your parents at all.”

Zhan Qingcheng’s grip tightened imperceptibly. Never had anyone spoken of his parents before him — parents, as in a father and mother, not an emperor-father and empress-mother.

Moreover, he could plainly sense that this woman’s words carried a deeper meaning. Just how much did she know?

Long Feiyan curved her lips, yet the smile was cold as frost. “If I remember correctly, you should still have two younger brothers. Are they still alive today?”

Yu Jingfeng was so startled he nearly lunged forward, wanting to tear the gauze veil from this woman’s face and see clearly who she was.

How did she know these things? What, exactly, was she after?

Throughout it all, Zhan Qingcheng’s face remained cold and still, not a ripple disturbing its surface. His lips, as calm as ever, breathed out a chill of absolute cold — after a single instant of surprise, he had already returned to perfect composure.

“His child has surpassed even him. Remarkable. Truly remarkable.”

The moment Long Feiyan’s words fell, a wind stirred, and a white-clad figure blurred into motion. That aura — cold and vast as an open sea — swept in an instant to surround Zhan Qingcheng on all sides.

Yu Jingfeng did not even have time to react before the force of her inner energy flung him through the air, and he nearly crashed into a tree not far away.

Her target was not him — this surge of inner energy was directed squarely at the prince — and yet it had sent him flying without the slightest ability to resist.

Even Qing Ye and Qing Zhi, stationed beside the palanquin, felt the crushing pressure of their mistress’s immense inner power. Qing Ye stumbled back several steps before barely managing to steady herself.

Qing Zhi’s cultivation was not as deep as Qing Ye’s — by the time Long Feiyan left the palanquin, she had already been thrown back with a thud against a large tree nearby.

Faced with such overwhelming inner power, from beginning to end, only Zhan Qingcheng remained completely unmoved, watching with calm composure as that white figure closed in on him in an instant.

With a thunderous impact, the air around them seemed to be sealed shut. Yu Jingfeng, who had barely managed to steady his breath, immediately sat cross-legged on the ground and circulated his power to resist the force.

Qing Ye gripped the palanquin and fought to keep herself and it from being swept away.

Qing Zhi, already seated on the ground before the great tree, could only channel her own inner energy alongside the resistance of the tree at her back to barely withstand the residual shockwave of the two powers clashing.

When masters come to blows, the contest is often at its most direct — they do not compare technique, only inner power. Straightforward. Unambiguous. Who wins and who loses is plain to see.

And yet this time, it seemed neither had come away with an advantage.

When the surge of energy passed, Zhan Qingcheng stood where he had stood from the beginning — not a single step back.

Long Feiyan had only returned to her seat within the palanquin, where she sat with composed and unhurried elegance.

The wind stilled. The curtain of the palanquin fell, partially obscuring the view between them.

Qing Ye steadied her breath, looked at Yu Jingfeng, who was still sitting on the ground, and said with cool detachment: “If you do not wish to make a needless sacrifice, call your brothers back. The next time I find them following us, I will kill them — one by one, two by two.”

Her foot touched lightly against the ground, and again with one hand she raised the palanquin, lifting both herself and it into the air. Moving at an unhurried pace, she drifted away toward the distance.

Qing Zhi, still seated beneath the tree, rose to her feet, gathered her breath, and stepped out to follow.

The three of them moved without haste — slowly and at ease — as though not the least bit concerned that anyone behind them might give chase. It was as though they were taking a leisurely stroll through town, stopping to take in the scenery around them.

The only difference from ordinary strollers was that they moved through mid-air, their steps so light they left not the faintest trace of dust.

Yu Jingfeng finally managed to pick himself up from the ground, walked to stand beside Zhan Qingcheng, and lifted his gaze toward the three figures growing smaller in the distance, his heart shaken to its core.

They moved without haste — not because their lightness technique was lacking. Quite the contrary: this manner of lightness technique was beyond what any ordinary person could achieve.

Why did an ordinary person need to dart and fly through the air? Because if they did not move swiftly, their inner energy would exhaust itself quickly — and when their energy could no longer sustain the weight that lifted them from the ground, they would fall from the sky.

The slower one walked in the air, the more extraordinary the lightness technique.

And these were merely two attendants who accompanied her — and yet they could already move like this. Just how unfathomable was the woman within the palanquin? It was almost beyond the imagination.

If the prince were not as formidable as he was, it was likely that even he would have found it difficult to escape from these three.

As for those brothers who had been sent to keep watch — if these three had truly wished to deal with them, it would have been simple as breathing.

They had come to deliver a warning, with no apparent malice — most likely they had simply grown weary of being followed.

At the very least, they had no present intention of moving against his people.

But if the warning was truly why they had come, Yu Jingfeng could not convince himself of that. It felt far more as though they had made a point of coming to take a look at the prince — and in the same visit, test the extent of his martial skill.

Yes — that must certainly be it.

“Your Highness, how did she know…” Yu Jingfeng’s words were not yet finished when his expression changed completely. “Your Highness — you are injured!”

Zhan Qingcheng let out a soft sound of contempt, then turned abruptly and walked back in the direction of the Hall of Heavenly Secrets.

“Your Highness, what are you… doing?” Yu Jingfeng wanted to follow, but found himself simply unable to move at any speed.

The inner injury from the veiled woman’s power had not yet settled — even his breathing had not fully calmed. To give chase was far easier said than done.

But had the prince not just left the Hall of Heavenly Secrets? Why was he going back now?

“Your Highness, wait for me — I cannot walk quickly.”

What a miserable state of affairs. He had never been so wretched in front of the prince before. But this time, the inner injury was truly real.

Not only did the prince fail to stop, he seemed, if anything, to be walking out of spite — faster and faster with every step.

Yu Jingfeng gave up on catching up, though he was deeply worried. “Your Highness, you are still injured. Your Highness, please walk a little slower.”

Moving that quickly with injuries like this could easily cause the inner energy to reverse — turning one injury into two.

Why did the prince have absolutely no care for his own well-being?

Though Yu Jingfeng was anxious, he truly could not keep up. The moment he quickened his steps, a rush of blood surged from his chest, nearly bringing a mouthful of blood to his lips.

That veiled woman was truly formidable. He could not see clearly the details of the two of them exchanging blows, and had no idea who had truly gotten the better of the other.

But to think there existed in this world someone more powerful than the prince… Yu Jingfeng’s heart went cold, a flicker of unease passing over him.

This woman was not only powerful — she knew far too much. As things stood now, she was clearly an adversary, not an ally.

If she were to stand against the prince in the future, she would be no easy opponent to deal with.