Feng Qingcang did not immediately grant Feng Li’s request. He only stared at him with cold eyes.

Feng Li met his gaze steadily, his face earnest: “Imperial Elder Brother, whatever you ask of me, I will do. I only ask to be allowed to stay at her side — to protect her for the rest of her life.”

“Whatever is asked of you — and you would be willing?” Feng Qingcang finally smiled again.

Feng Li gave a slight nod, and said in his hoarse voice: “Yes.”

“Very well.”

Feng Qingcang turned away, his back now toward him: “These past few days, several individuals of unknown origin have slipped into the capital. Every man We sent out has either returned gravely wounded or come back empty-handed.”

Feng Li immediately replied: “Does Imperial Elder Brother want these people dead, or does he want me to capture them and bring them back?”

“They are unlikely to be good people. Kill them.” Feng Qingcang waved his hand. The flowing sleeves of his robe seemed as though they were still right before one’s eyes — yet in the blink of an eye, he had vanished without a trace.

He was gone at last.

Feng Li gave a light cough. What came up with it was nothing but bright crimson blood.

A sharp pain stabbed through his heart gate. He stepped back half a pace and leaned against the palace wall, and only after great difficulty did he manage to steady his breath a little.

He did not know how long passed. Then he drew a long breath. Suddenly, he pressed the tip of his foot against the ground and leaped up onto the high wall.

In an instant, that tall, slender silhouette had vanished entirely into the morning mist.

“Your Majesty, the Night Prince is gravely wounded in his current state. He may not necessarily be a match for those people.”

The woman standing behind Feng Qingcang watched the retreating figure of Feng Li, her voice quiet and low.

“Sending him in such a condition, Your Majesty — it is little different from sending him to his death.”

“Is that so?” Feng Qingcang gave a cold laugh. “Ha. The late Emperor always said that Feng Li was his most outstanding son — that no one in the entire Feng Clan could match his potential in martial cultivation.”

Whenever he recalled the late Emperor’s praise of Feng Li, the light in Feng Qingcang’s eyes grew ever colder and more forbidding.

“Since Feng Li is said to be so formidable — then let him go and test that for himself. What is wrong with that?”

“Your Majesty,” the woman said again, “since the Night Prince is formidable, would it not be better to keep him alive so that he may continue to serve you in the future?”

“Hmm?” Feng Qingcang raised an eyebrow and suddenly turned to fix his gaze upon her. “Han Ying — since when do you concern yourself with the lives and deaths of others? Why do you take such particular interest in Feng Li alone?”

Han Ying made no attempt to deflect, and spoke plainly: “This subordinate has admired the Night Prince for many years. Your Majesty is not unaware of this.”

“How forthright of you.” Feng Qingcang showed no anger — instead, a faint smile appeared. “You want him?”

“Every moment of every day.”

“But I fear he will not give you what you wish for.”

Han Ying said nothing. If the Night Prince could be easily won over by her, how would it have come to this — that even now, after all this time, she could not so much as draw near to him?

“Your Majesty, this subordinate does indeed admire the Night Prince — yet I also know that to Your Majesty, the Night Prince is an exceptionally useful instrument of killing.”

“Your Majesty, he has already agreed not to speak of it — and he will never reveal his identity as the father of Princess Jiu’er. Your Majesty would do well to keep him at your side rather than waste such exceptional talent.”

“Rest assured — he will return.”

Feng Qingcang’s understanding of Feng Li may not have been deep in many respects, but on this one point, he was utterly certain.

“He values his daughter above all else in this world. If he wants to see his daughter, he will keep himself alive.”

And so, no matter how gravely he was wounded, he would return without fail.

Feng Li was not going to die.

Feng Qingcang leaped down from the eaves, landing lightly upon the ground.

At the moment he stepped into the Princess’s courtyard, Han Ying quietly withdrew and swiftly melted away into the early morning light.

After Feng Jiu’er had returned, she had collapsed into sleep the moment she lay down.

The palace maids had been startled awake, having no idea at all from where the Princess had returned.

The Princess offered no explanation, and fell into a deep slumber in the blink of an eye — so the maids did not dare to disturb her.

Now, seeing the Emperor arrive, every one of them was so frightened they scrambled to kneel in welcome: “We pay our respects to Your Majesty.”

Feng Qingcang waved his hand, dismissing the maids, and walked in alone.

A’Jiu was still asleep. In her dream, she seemed to sense a chain of iron that bound her tightly, locking her fast.

She was not panicked — only exerting every last ounce of her strength in a desperate struggle to break free.

Yet for reasons she could not understand, the harder she struggled, the tighter the chain bound her — until at last it was so tight that she could not breathe at all.

“Ha—!” When A’Jiu woke, she was gasping for breath, her entire body drenched in cold sweat.

Seeing Feng Qingcang standing at the bedside, she did not for a moment remember who this person was.

She bolted upright and scrambled back toward the inner side of the bed, her eyes filled with wariness.

Feng Qingcang’s brow furrowed slightly. A shadow of something dark and unreadable passed across his eyes in that instant — but then, in the very next moment, his face became once again a warm and gentle smile.

“A’Jiu — why do you look at your Imperial Father with eyes like that?”

“Imperial… Father?”

Feng Jiu’er steadied herself, and at last remembered who the strikingly beautiful white-robed man before her was.

She let out a breath and hurriedly said: “Forgive me, Imperial Father. I had a nightmare just now and had not yet gathered my senses when I woke.”

Feng Qingcang seemed to always be particularly indulgent with her. He smiled: “Never mind. What sort of nightmare was it? Tell Imperial Father about it.”

“It was nothing much — only that… it felt as though someone had bound me with iron chains.”

A’Jiu raised her hand and wiped at the corner of her forehead — and found her entire hand’s back slick with cold sweat.

That dream just now had been truly terrifying. It had felt exactly as though someone had truly imprisoned her, as though she was on the verge of suffocation.

“Why do you look so weary? Did you sneak out the door last night?”

Those words gave A’Jiu such a fright she very nearly confessed on the spot.

“Imperial Father, I…”

“Imperial Father was only teasing you. Look how nervous you are.”

As Feng Qingcang turned away, the smile at the corner of his lips vanished in an instant.

Looking at the palace maids kneeling outside, he said in an even tone: “Attend to the Princess and help her dress.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After the two junior maids knelt and waited for him to depart, they scrambled inside in a flurry.

“Your Highness, the Emperor wishes to dine with you this morning — this is an honor beyond measure! Your Highness, please make haste and prepare to go.”

“Understood.” How tiresome it was to be born into the imperial family — having breakfast with one’s own father had become a mark of imperial favor!

In truth, Feng Jiu’er genuinely disliked this feeling. Eating with one’s father — or even with one’s elder brothers — ought to be the most ordinary thing in the world.

Yet inside this palace, it had become something impossible.

If only Fourth Imperial Uncle could join them as well, that would be even more delightful.

Fourth Imperial Uncle…

That cold yet gentle figure. That man who was not one for words, yet who still made such an effort to keep up a conversation with her… Fourth Imperial Uncle — yes, she missed him so much!

They had only parted such a little while ago, and already she wanted to go and find him. What was she to do?

He rarely spoke, and was always so quiet — yet for some reason, she was drawn to be near him above all others.

That feeling of warmth and closeness was something that even Imperial Father could not give her.

Alas — if only she could live at Fourth Imperial Uncle’s Night Prince Manor, how wonderful that would be.

No palace maids or eunuchs underfoot. No endless rules and regulations. Free and unfettered — that was the life she wanted.

Just as she stepped out the door, Yanu came hurrying over. Seeing that A’Jiu was safe and unharmed, he finally settled his heart.

Dismissing the palace maids, Yanu led her to the front courtyard to dine with the Emperor.

Along the way, he lowered his voice and asked quietly: “Your Highness, where did you go last night? Why were you… not in your room?”