“Wu Ya.” Emperor Ji stared at Di Wu Ya’s back and struck the armrest of his wheelchair in fury.

“Are you truly going to betray all the years of effort we have poured into you? If I could walk, I would cross over there and break your legs myself!”

Di Wu Ya slowly raised his eyes toward the orange-red sun just cresting the horizon, those deep eyes narrowing to a half-squint.

Then, without leaving a single word behind, he turned and walked away.

Yu Jingfeng saw this and immediately rose to his feet, waving a hand.

One of his men came rushing over and cupped his hands respectfully. “Commander Yu.”

“Dispatch three hundred brothers with exceptional lightness skills to help search for Miss Jiu’er. The moment there is any news, report back at once,” Yu Jingfeng ordered.

“Yes.” The man nodded and accepted his command.

Yu Jingfeng said nothing more and quickly fell into step behind Di Wu Ya.

Xiao Yingtao’s heart was in pieces, her tears flowing like a burst dam — impossible to stop.

Supported by Xing Zizhou, she rose to her feet and looked toward Xue Gu.

“Xue Gu, Jiu’er, she…”

“Zhao Yusheng, what do you think you’re doing?” Nearby, Qiao Mu called out sharply.

“Brother, this cliff is too steep — don’t do anything reckless!” Zhao Xiaoxiao grabbed Zhao Yusheng by the arm as he attempted to descend by way of several hanging vines.

Zhao Yusheng raised his eyes to Qiao Mu. His gaze was hollow and vacant.

“Now that Jiu’er is gone, we must not act rashly!” Qiao Mu warned in a low, firm voice.

She turned and looked into the ravine once more, drawing a deep breath.

“That girl is so greedy — how could she possibly let herself die so easily?”

Qiao Mu had not forgotten: Feng Jiu’er had even planned to sell the wedding gifts others had given her, putting away the silver in order to reclaim every last one of Zhao Yu’s followers.

Someone like her could not possibly give up so easily.

“Qiao Mu, is that really true?” Xiao Yingtao stared at her with wide eyes, desperately hoping for a definitive answer.

“I say she cannot die — she absolutely cannot!” Qiao Mu glanced at Xiao Yingtao, voice low but certain.

“If she were going to die, she would have died the last time.”

Her gaze shifted to Xue Gu as she gave a slight nod. “Letting him leave is absolutely the right choice.”

Xue Gu met Qiao Mu’s gaze and gave a faint nod of her own.

Both women were privately convinced there was something more to this — but what good would it do to say so now? Why speak when it would help no one?

Xiao Yingtao looked between Qiao Mu and Xue Gu, still wanting to say more.

But Qiao Mu had already turned back to Zhao Yusheng: “By the look of things, the Ninth Prince’s march north is inevitable. You are responsible for settling the brothers.”

“Before the Ninth Prince departs, make whatever requests you need of him. Jiu’er’s people — the Ninth Prince will not stand by and do nothing.”

“But do not delay. Bring the brothers somewhere safe as quickly as possible — ideally somewhere even the Ninth Prince and those around him do not know about.”

She looked back into the ravine, and her expression darkened for a moment.

Falling from this height under such pressure — whether that girl could truly still be alive, Qiao Mu honestly did not know.

But morale must not falter. If they fell apart, those who sought to eliminate Feng Jiu’er would seize the advantage without hesitation.

“Xue Gu and I will take people to search for Jiu’er…”

“I…” Zhao Yusheng interrupted Qiao Mu, only to receive a hard glare when she turned around.

“This is settled. Remember — every one of these brothers is Jiu’er’s life. You must protect them all.”

“Phoenix City borders the Black Gorge, and your territory is also in the Black Gorge. Surely something this small is within your ability?”

“Of course I know, and I will do everything I can to keep every brother safe — but Jiu’er, she…” Zhao Yusheng shook himself free of Zhao Xiaoxiao’s hand.

“My arrangements represent Jiu’er’s wishes. Are you refusing to comply?” Qiao Mu studied Zhao Yusheng, her brow faintly furrowed.

“What’s more, there are many people who care for Jiu’er even more than you do.” — Jian Yi, whose life or death was still unknown, being one.

“Don’t worry. As long as Jiu’er…” Qiao Mu paused and drew a deep breath. “Don’t worry. We will find Jiu’er.”

Zhao Yusheng steadied himself and finally nodded.

“All right. You can all rest easy too — before Jiu’er returns, not a single one of our brothers will be missing.”

Only then did Qiao Mu withdraw her gaze from Zhao Yusheng and look toward Xiao Yingtao.

“Xiao Yingtao, hear your orders!”

Xiao Yingtao stepped out of Xing Zizhou’s arms and lightly wiped the corners of her eyes, planting her feet firmly.

Meeting Qiao Mu’s gaze again, her eyes finally steadied.

Xiao Yingtao drew a deep breath and nodded. “Yes.”

“You and Xing Zizhou are to assist Zhao Yusheng and lead the brothers…”

Before Qiao Mu could finish, Xiao Yingtao’s brow creased slightly. “Qiao Mu, I want to…”

“Follow my arrangements. Bring everything that belongs to Jiu’er from the Ninth Prince’s manor — do not leave anything behind.” Qiao Mu’s voice continued without pause.

Xiao Yingtao knew perfectly well what Qiao Mu meant: Jiu’er had said she wanted to sell everything sent by Ye Luosha and convert it into silver, for that was the only way she would feel at ease.

Those two chests of items, once exchanged for silver, would keep the brothers fed for years. If she forgot to take them, Jiu’er would surely scold her to death when she returned.

“Jiu’er returning?” Xiao Yingtao pressed her lips together, a faint smile rising. “Right — Jiu’er will definitely come back.”

“Very well.” She looked up at Qiao Mu and nodded. “I will see every task through.”

Qiao Mu gave a few more instructions. The group atop the cliff split into several separate parties and departed.

Three days later, Di Wu Ya led his forces north with the wounded Di Feimu, driving straight for the imperial capital.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, Ninth Imperial Uncle… no, no — you can’t! This is all your own presumption…”

“Ninth Imperial Uncle… Jiu’er is fine! Ninth… Imperial Uncle…” Feng Jiu’er cried out and sat bolt upright in bed.

She had dreamed a very long, very long dream. Her man had flown into a rage — he truly had.

He gripped the Horizon-Cleaving Blade and cut down enemies on all sides, his eyes holding nothing but killing intent, not a trace of anything else.

Watching those cold, merciless, yet lonely and helpless eyes, Feng Jiu’er had desperately wanted to go to him, to stand at his side.

Slaughter should not have been the whole of his life. His life ought to carry some color — not be nothing but black and white.

Feng Jiu’er reached out a hand, pressed it over her heart, and drew several deep, steadying breaths.

The pain across her body slowly brought her back to full awareness.

Feng Jiu’er looked around at this unfamiliar place, and fragments of memory gradually surfaced in her mind.

She pinched herself hard, then climbed down from the bed.

Lowering her gaze to her own hands, then her legs, then the unfamiliar clothing on her body, Feng Jiu’er’s eyes went wide.

“I didn’t die! I actually came through unscathed.”

Overjoyed, she tried a small hop — and immediately winced.

“Didn’t die, no — but the fall was no small thing.”

Feng Jiu’er let out a quiet sigh and shuffled back a few paces to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Awake?” A woman dressed in white robes walked in carrying a bowl of porridge.

Feng Jiu’er looked up at the approaching figure, her round eyes going wide — and for a moment, her mind failed to catch up with what she was seeing.