Watching the man she longed for with all her heart fix his gaze on another woman, she froze completely. Hidden away nearby, Feng Qingyin stomped her foot in fury.

“Miss, I didn’t expect Feng Jiu’er would actually dare to come.”

Linglong, standing guard beside Feng Qingyin, said in a low voice.

Feng Qingyin took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping briefly over that figure standing on the tent not far away.

“I’ll make sure she comes here alive, and leaves here dead.”

With a cold huff, Feng Qingyin turned and walked off in another direction.

Seeing her again, Zhan Yuheng looked at Feng Jiu’er, and for a moment, he truly lost himself.

His Jiu’er had come back—he had known this for a long time already. But why, why was she unwilling to give him another chance?

“Your Highness, there’s a matter I need to discuss with you.”

Feng Jiu’er lowered her eyes, looking at that tall figure standing amid the crowd, and spoke.

“Come down.”

Zhan Yuheng’s brows furrowed slightly. He turned and walked toward the tent.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at Jian Yi, then tapped her toes lightly on the bamboo pole, landing steadily in front of the tent.

Zhan Yuheng had only taken two steps forward before he turned back around.

The instant he turned, Feng Jiu’er, like an agile bird, landed not far from him.

“Your Highness.”

Fearing the newcomer might harm the Crown Prince, the guards immediately rushed forward.

“It’s fine.”

Zhan Yuheng waved his hand and turned around again.

Feng Jiu’er didn’t ask further, and simply followed along.

In an instant, inside an extremely luxurious tent, only Feng Jiu’er and Zhan Yuheng remained.

Zhan Yuheng sat before the desk, looking at the woman standing not far away.

“Showing up in this manner—your nerve really is too bold.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced around, sat down at a small low table nearby, picked up some chopsticks, grabbed a pastry from the table, and popped it straight into her mouth.

“A Crown Prince really is a Crown Prince—even your wartime rations are this good. I haven’t had such delicious pastries in a long while.”

Not satisfied with just the pastries, Feng Jiu’er also picked up the teacup and teapot beside her, pouring herself a cup of fragrant tea.

Lifting the teacup, she brought it to her nose for a light sniff, then took a sip with a satisfied expression.

Zhan Yuheng sat before the desk, a military treatise still in hand, but his gaze never left Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er made no attempt at restraint, drinking tea and eating pastries, only setting down her chopsticks once her stomach was reasonably full.

After drinking half a cup more of tea, she raised her eyes to meet Zhan Yuheng’s gaze.

“Sorry about that.”

Scratching her head, Feng Jiu’er set down the cup, stood up, her expression turning a bit more serious.

“The thing is, over these three days and three nights I’ve barely eaten anything. Seeing something delicious, I just couldn’t help myself for a moment.”

It wasn’t that Zhan Yuheng hadn’t noticed—this girl had grown visibly thinner—but he had no idea in what capacity he could express concern for a general in the middle of a war against him.

Staring at Feng Jiu’er without blinking, Zhan Yuheng suddenly set down the military treatise, stood up, and walked toward her.

Feng Jiu’er watched him, blinking, feeling somewhat awkward.

Didn’t he already have Feng Qingyin?

Surely he wasn’t still unable to let go of her?

Thinking she was simply overanalyzing things, the girl didn’t expect that, in the blink of an eye, the man was already standing right in front of her.

Zhan Yuheng reached out his hand, wanting to touch Feng Jiu’er’s face.

Feng Jiu’er stepped back sharply, coughed lightly, then raised her eyes to meet Zhan Yuheng’s gaze.

“Your Highness.”

“Call me Heng-gege.”

Zhan Yuheng’s voice suddenly turned much deeper.

Feng Jiu’er’s crescent brows knitted, and she moved away from Zhan Yuheng, putting a long distance between them.

“Your Highness, this time I’ve come unannounced because, in truth, I wanted to discuss with you the matter of peace negotiations.”

Feng Jiu’er’s voice rang out from behind Zhan Yuheng.

Zhan Yuheng did not turn around, and Feng Jiu’er couldn’t clearly tell what state he was in at that moment.

All she knew was that, right now, she had to keep enough distance from him.

Zhan Yuheng didn’t turn around, and didn’t speak either, standing motionless in the same posture as before.

The tent fell silent for a good while before Zhan Yuheng’s voice rose again: “As long as you’re willing, I will never let you suffer again.”

“And as for the matter between you and the Ninth Imperial Uncle, I can let it go too.”

Turning to look at Feng Jiu’er, Zhan Yuheng let out a soft sigh, his expression instantly turning gentle.

“Jiu’er, come back with me, won’t you? I’ll give you any life you could ever imagine.”

This side of Zhan Yuheng was truly something Feng Jiu’er hadn’t expected.

But whether in the past or now, she knew very clearly: between her and him, there would never again be any possibility.

“Your Highness, the reason I came today is that I want to negotiate peace.”

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together and asked softly.

“You must know very well that if this war continues, it won’t be good for anyone—isn’t that so?”

“Jiu’er, do you really not need to consider—” “No, I don’t.”

Feng Jiu’er hardened her heart and cut off Zhan Yuheng’s words.

Since there was no possibility, any hint of hesitation would only be crueler to him.

“If Your Highness has no intention whatsoever of making peace, then just treat this visit as if I never came at all.”

Pressing her lips together lightly, Feng Jiu’er gave Zhan Yuheng a cupped-hand salute.

“Jiu’er thanks Your Highness for the pastries and tea. I’ll take my leave now.”

For the sake of her brothers, she could fight to the death—but selling her body or charm was out of the question, wasn’t it?

If the Ninth Imperial Uncle ever found out, it would be a wonder if he didn’t skin her alive. “Say whatever you came to say clearly before you leave.”

Watching the figure turning away, Zhan Yuheng’s thick brows furrowed slightly, and he turned and walked back to the desk.

Feng Jiu’er took a deep breath and slowly turned back around.

By the time she turned, Zhan Yuheng had already sat back down before the desk, the military treatise in hand.

Coughing lightly, Feng Jiu’er said with a serious expression, “Your Highness, for this war, I hope we can negotiate peace.”

“Come here.”

Zhan Yuheng’s deep voice rang out.

Feng Jiu’er looked at the one who had spoken, blinking.

At this distance, could he really not hear her?

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

From beginning to end, Zhan Yuheng never raised his eyes, appearing to be absorbed in reading.

Feng Jiu’er had no choice but to step closer.

About five steps from the desk, Feng Jiu’er stopped.

She couldn’t be sure whether she was a match for him, nor could she fathom his intentions—better not to get too close.

Sensing the girl’s guardedness, Zhan Yuheng’s mood grew heavy.

Feng Jiu’er paid it no more mind, raising both hands in a cupped salute.

“Your Highness, for this battle, I hope we can make peace.”

“Reason.”

Not only did Zhan Yuheng not raise his eyes, he even turned the military treatise to the next page.

Feng Jiu’er glanced up briefly, lowered her hands, straightened her back, and looked at Zhan Yuheng.

“The Ninth Prince never harbored any intent to rebel—Your Highness knows this too, doesn’t he?”

“This is all a misunderstanding. Why did the Emperor not give the Ninth Prince a chance to explain before sending troops to attack?”

“Your Highness has always been merciful, treating the people as your own children. But now that war has broken out, soldiers are dying and being wounded.”

“Even the common people within the city now find themselves in dire straits. Has Your Highness never thought of negotiating peace, of putting an end to this war?”