Jian Yi met Feng Qingyin’s gaze, momentarily stunned, and didn’t respond immediately.

Watching Jian Yi’s reaction, Feng Qingyin grew increasingly agitated, two streams of hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Jian Yi, I know you despise me, don’t you? But do you know how filthy Feng Jiu’er really is?”

“Do you think she rose to her current position without climbing into countless men’s beds?”

Feng Jiu’er’s expression turned sorrowful as she withdrew her slender fingers.

“Jian Yi, she has deceived you. I dare wager you are at the very least her tenth man. And what about me? Everything before was done out of necessity, I—”

“Enough.”

Jian Yi cut Feng Qingyin off. “Jiu’er is not that kind of person.”

“The decision I have made will not change. If you wish to trade a life for a life, take mine — I will not hold a single grudge.”

“Jian Yi.”

Feng Qingyin refused to give up, leaning in closer.

Her loose, flowing robes concealed the slight rounding of her abdomen.

Jian Yi stepped back swiftly. Feng Qingyin lunged forward into empty air, nearly losing her footing.

She steadied herself, bit down hard, then lifted her eyes to gaze at Jian Yi with a pitiful, forlorn look.

“Jian Yi, do you truly have no feelings for me at all—”

“Never have.”

Jian Yi’s cold voice cut in.

Seeing her again had made his own heart perfectly clear.

His feelings toward her had been nothing more than gratitude. Even the thought of taking her away before had only been a wish to treat her well, to not let her down, to give her a good life.

It seemed that beyond those things, there was nothing else.

By comparison, he had lived far more freely and at ease at Jiu’er’s side. Had he truly wished to remain, he would never have left in the first place.

Seeing his resolve was settled, Feng Qingyin stopped pressing.

She lifted her eyes to look at Jian Yi, and amid the teary blur of her face, the corners of her lips curved ever so slightly upward.

“Very well. But I still cannot bring myself to let go. Jian Yi, let me embrace you — just once. Let me hold you properly, one last time.”

Watching the woman draw near, even sensing her killing intent, Jian Yi did not retreat a single step.

This debt had to be repaid regardless. Then let him repay it completely — all at once.

As Feng Qingyin moved close to Jian Yi, she slipped a short dagger from within her sleeve.

Coming to stand before him, she hooked her lips into the faintest curve, gripped the short dagger, and drove it with force straight into the center of his heart.

Jian Yi’s thick brows knitted, and blood immediately surged from the corner of his mouth.

“From this moment on, I owe you nothing.”

Not far away, inside a tent where she had finally reached an agreement with Zhan Yuheng, Feng Jiu’er let out a long, heavy breath of relief.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, on behalf of the people of Yamu City, I thank you.”

“Naturally, I also hope that the next time we meet, it need not be under such circumstances.”

“If, within the agreed time, Ninth Imperial Uncle still fails to give His Majesty a satisfactory answer, the campaign will proceed to its conclusion. You would do well to move quickly.”

Zhan Yuheng sat at the writing table, his customary gentle and refined manner fully restored — as though the loss of composure just moments ago had never happened at all.

“Very well. I understand.”

Feng Jiu’er stepped forward and cupped her hands in a salute.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, Jiu’er takes her leave.”

Zhan Yuheng lifted his eyes for a glance, then waved his hand.

Feng Jiu’er returned the salute and stepped back two paces before turning to leave.

Watching the girl’s light and brisk steps, Zhan Yuheng fell into a brief daze.

Feng Jiu’er left with a cheerful expression, yet she did not find Jian Yi waiting at the agreed spot.

Recalling that while she had been speaking with His Highness the Crown Prince, someone had been eavesdropping just behind the tent not far away, she immediately made her way around to the back.

Leaving the main tent and moving ahead, Feng Jiu’er suddenly knitted her brows.

She immediately quickened her pace, turning into another tent.

A familiar silhouette appeared before her. Feng Jiu’er’s crescent brows drew tightly together as she stepped forward and steadied Jian Yi, whose clothing was soaked through with blood.

“How did this happen?”

Seeing that the wound had struck his heart, Feng Jiu’er was burning with alarm.

Had she only known, she would never have left him alone outside. How could she have forgotten that Feng Qingyin was still lurking around?

With one arm supporting Jian Yi, Feng Jiu’er pressed several acupoints around his heart.

“Don’t let yourself get agitated — otherwise your blood will drain away in no time. Come, I’ll take you back.”

The moment Feng Jiu’er’s words fell, a chilling laugh drifted over.

Feng Qingyin walked over with light, unhurried steps, with only a single palace maid trailing behind her.

“Jiu’er, we meet again.”

Coming to stand before Feng Jiu’er and Jian Yi, Feng Qingyin curved her lips into a cold smile.

“Why aren’t you dead yet? Didn’t you say you would give me back a life in return?”

Her gaze fell on Jian Yi, and the look in Feng Qingyin’s eyes was as though she were watching a dying stray dog.

“Feng Qingyin, how vicious you are. If you want to come after me, come at me directly — why strike at Jian Yi?”

Feng Jiu’er glared at Feng Qingyin and said coldly.

“Ha. It is nothing more than one worthless life — not worth mourning in the least.”

Feng Qingyin waved her hand with casual indifference.

The maid Lingling, who had been following behind her, turned and slipped away in another direction while no one was paying attention.

Given Jian Yi’s condition, Feng Jiu’er had no time to waste here.

She gripped Jian Yi’s arm firmly, intending to take him away.

But Feng Qingyin only smiled all the more wickedly.

“Don’t you want to hear how I saved this fool back in those days?”

“When I think of it, it really is laughable — a fool threw herself headlong into danger to save him, and he actually believed it was me who saved him. Ha.”

Feng Qingyin gazed at the dying man with unbridled contempt.

“Juéyàn, you truly are a fool. Did you think that even knowing your identity, I would still play along with your act?”

“What a pity — you were actually willing to be Feng Jiu’er’s obedient lapdog. When I think of how you used to fawn at my heels, I genuinely feel a little reluctant to let go of that.”

“Ha. A fool paired with an idiot — it does seem rather fitting, come to think of it.”

“Since you are so fond of her, I shall do you both the favor — once you are dead, I will send Feng Jiu’er to keep you company. Rest assured.”

“What did you say?”

Jian Yi’s faint, weakened voice sounded. “Are you saying that the person who saved me back then was Jiu’er?”

“That’s right.”

Feng Qingyin nodded with a look of smug satisfaction. “She nearly broke her leg saving you, and you never knew a thing.”

“Feng Jiu’er, I truly ought to thank you — thank you for being such a fool, for gifting me such a capable little guard dog, while letting the whole matter slip right out of your own memory.”

“Feng Qingyin, stop spouting nonsense here.”

Feng Jiu’er fixed her eyes on the woman before her and let out a cold snort.

“I will make sure Jian Yi’s debt is repaid.”

Just as Feng Jiu’er supported Jian Yi and moved to leave, Feng Qingyin suddenly lunged forward.

“Jiu’er, no — don’t — don’t harm my child, don’t—!”

Jian Yi’s wound was severe, and Feng Jiu’er had no time to think.

To prevent Feng Qingyin from striking Jian Yi again, she thrust out her palm and swept it outward — the force sent the lunging Feng Qingyin crashing to the ground.

What she had not expected: the figure collapsed on the ground revealed a visibly rounded abdomen.

“Ah — my stomach — my child — it hurts — my stomach, it hurts so much—”

Staring down at the fallen woman, Feng Jiu’er’s expression grew darker still.