Feng Jiu’er no longer had any thought for anything else. She nestled in her man’s embrace with no intention of ever leaving it.
No matter how dazzling the world outside might be, it could not compare to the warmth of his arms.
Mu Mu had slipped away from the stage at some point, vanishing without a trace.
Ye Luosha had been so incensed by Zhan Qingcheng’s actions that the color drained from her face. Had Emperor Ji not pulled her back, she would have stepped forward to stop him.
Yet both Emperor Ji and Ye Luosha knew full well that when Zhan Qingcheng had made up his mind to do something, they would have no chance of stopping him.
After the commotion settled, the crowd of common folk gradually quieted down.
Before long, the area below the stage had returned to calm, and those with seats settled back into their places.
“I have one more matter to announce.” Emperor Ji’s voice was powerful and full, ringing out just as clearly. “I wonder whether everyone still remembers the Di Family of former times?”
Since the matter was already settled, he had no intention of voicing any opinion on Zhan Qingcheng’s wedding announcement.
The moment Emperor Ji’s voice fell, a fresh wave of noise rose from the crowd below.
Though the Di Imperial Dynasty had passed so many years ago, the common folk were still the same common folk. How could they ever forget?
Hearing Emperor Ji say this, everyone’s gaze quickly returned to Zhan Qingcheng.
“That is correct.” Emperor Ji glanced at Zhan Qingcheng, and his resonant voice rang out again.
“The Ninth Prince who stands before you now is none other than Crown Prince Di Wu Ya of our Di Imperial House.”
“As for Mu’er, General Mu…” When Emperor Ji turned his head to look for him, Mu Mu was already nowhere to be seen.
He lightly furrowed his brow, withdrew his gaze, and continued looking out at the crowd below the stage.
“General Mu is Second Imperial Prince Di Fei Mu of the former Di Imperial House. And I am Di Ji, younger brother to the former dynasty’s Emperor Di Dingtian.”
“So the Ninth Prince was the Crown Prince of the former dynasty.”
“Our Ninth Prince is actually the Crown Prince of the old dynasty — a descendant of the Di Family.”
“Who would have thought that after that great battle, two princes of the Di Family had survived? Truly, who would have thought?”
The common folk swung from joy to sorrow, then back again to tears of overwhelming joy, their emotions tangled and complex.
No one had imagined that so many years later, members of the Di Family would appear once more — and that person was none other than the Ninth Prince whom everyone loved and admired.
After a wave of great commotion, the scene gradually quieted.
Emperor Ji looked out at the crowd and let out a soft sigh. “That our Di Family can stand here today with a foothold of our own has not come easily.”
“In those days, the Zhan Family used the most despicable of means to annihilate our Di Family and seize our throne. Truly unforgivable!”
Emperor Ji struck the armrest of his wheelchair with a hard thud, his emotions surging with extraordinary intensity.
“Since Heaven has seen fit to leave our Di Family one last path of survival, we cannot simply let the matter rest!”
Emperor Ji’s brow tightened, and his voice grew several shades louder.
“Today, I hereby announce the restoration of the Di Imperial Dynasty’s rule, the restoration of Crown Prince Wu Ya’s rightful status, and the selection of an auspicious date for his ascension to the throne. Phoenix City is designated as the provisional capital.”
“In those days, when Zhan Bufan passed away from illness, he left behind an imperial edict commanding that the throne be passed to Wu Ya. It was Emperor Qiwen’s greed for the throne that led him to suppress and conceal this matter.”
Emperor Ji was not unaware of Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze, but he paid it no mind, speaking every word to its finish.
“The imperial edict left behind by Zhan Bufan remains in the hands of the current Dowager Consort Ning. We are not rebels — we are merely reclaiming everything that rightfully belongs to our Di Family.”
Emperor Ji’s words stirred a tide of discussion.
Only Feng Jiu’er, nestled in Zhan Qingcheng’s arms, could perceive that the moment Emperor Ji mentioned the imperial edict, Ninth Imperial Uncle’s aura shifted instantly.
By saying this, Emperor Ji was clearly placing Dowager Consort Ning in a position of danger. Why would he do such a thing?
Feng Jiu’er was well aware of the depth of Ninth Imperial Uncle’s feelings toward Dowager Consort Ning. Had he known Emperor Ji would say this, he would certainly have objected.
Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together and lifted her gaze to the man holding her close.
Zhan Qingcheng’s eyes had swept over Emperor Ji only briefly before he withdrew his gaze.
Lowering his eyes to the woman in his arms, he reached out with his large hand and gently tousled her hair.
“Go spend a little time with Xiao Yingtao and the others. Don’t come back too late.”
Feng Jiu’er could see the flicker of distress in Zhan Qingcheng’s eyes — yet now that Emperor Ji had spoken, even Ninth Imperial Uncle himself could not change it, let alone her.
“Mm.” She blinked, then nodded. “Don’t work too late yourself.”
It seemed the common folk harbored no less love for Ninth Imperial Uncle simply because of the change in his identity.
Shortly after Emperor Ji finished speaking, every last person in the crowd knelt in respect, greeting the man they considered the most worthy Crown Prince.
That Ninth Imperial Uncle had earned such deep faith from the common folk made Feng Jiu’er glad for him — yet she understood clearly that her man was not feeling well inside right now.
Could it be that Emperor Ji and Ye Luosha were willing to wager Dowager Consort Ning’s life as a bargaining chip just to compel Ninth Imperial Uncle to head north?
Did they even know what Dowager Consort Ning meant to Ninth Imperial Uncle?
After Zhan Qingcheng escorted Feng Jiu’er down from the stage, he left.
The lantern festival officially commenced. With two pieces of wonderful news arriving at once, the smiles on the faces of the common folk grew even brighter.
Feng Jiu’er, however, had no heart for any of it. Her gaze lingered on the direction in which Zhan Qingcheng had departed.
“Hey, Jiu’er.” Xiao Yingtao reached out and waved a hand in front of her face. “The Ninth Prince — no, the Crown Prince — has already left. You’re still looking?”
“If you miss him that dearly, you might as well go straight back and stay by his side day and night.” Qiao Mu threw Feng Jiu’er a sidelong glance, turned, and walked away.
“The man I’ve adored is about to be married. My heart is heavy. I want to drink.”
“Please! You’ve just gone too long without a drink and the craving is acting up, isn’t it?” Xiao Yingtao hooked her arm through Feng Jiu’er’s and marched forward, shooting a glare at Qiao Mu’s retreating back.
“That’s none of your business. It’s not like me wanting a drink is hurting you.” Qiao Mu did not look back, and replied with a cool, indifferent tone.
“Jiu’er, congratulations!” Zhao Xiaoxiao came forward from behind and fell in at Feng Jiu’er’s other side.
Her darling handsome man was still in Jiu’er’s hands, so she had little choice but to follow along.
“Thank you.” Feng Jiu’er looked at Zhao Xiaoxiao and gave a nod.
“We’re all so happy today — where should we go to celebrate?” Zhao Xiaoxiao’s voice rang out again.
Her gaze drifted toward Jian Yi, and her smile grew all the more cheerful.
As long as Jian Yi was wherever she was going, she was willing to go anywhere at all.
“Where to celebrate?” Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips lightly together and replied, “I haven’t quite decided.”
If she could, she wanted to go back and see how things were.
Knowing Ninth Imperial Uncle’s temperament, he was bound to be in an absolute rage when he got back. How could she possibly be in the mood to go out?
“I’d like to go out on the lake. Jiu’er, what do you think?” Xiao Yingtao suggested.
“Boating on the lake — I’d like that too.” Zhao Xiaoxiao’s cheerful voice chimed in.
Feng Jiu’er slowed her steps, then continued walking forward.
“That, I…”
Jian Yi turned his head and glanced at the young woman pushing his wheelchair, then cut in gently, “My heart doesn’t feel well. Come back and take a look at it for me.”
“Jian Yi, your heart doesn’t feel well?” Zhao Xiaoxiao looked at Jian Yi, so agitated she very nearly seized his arm.
But she still didn’t dare, or rather it seemed she shouldn’t.
Feng Jiu’er stopped in her tracks, met Jian Yi’s gaze, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Jian Yi took her small hand and pressed it over his own heart.
“Here. It doesn’t feel well.”