Long Feiyan regarded the young woman before her and raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I was unaware he had been poisoned and fallen unconscious. Well — now I know.”

With a somewhat disdainful flick of her wrist, Long Feiyan rose to her feet.

“Mother.” Feng Jiu’er was overjoyed and rose as well. “Does that mean you’re no longer angry with Father?”

“After everything has settled, shall we go find Father together?”

“We’ll see.” Long Feiyan gave a cool reply, nothing more.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together and caught hold of her sleeve.

“Mother, may I ask — who is it that you truly have feelings for? Emperor Dingtian, or my father?”

Long Feiyan’s expression was thoroughly dismissive as she stepped toward the door.

“Neither.”

Even so, Feng Jiu’er could still see the flicker of something in her eyes.

She raised an arch look of her own and followed after her.

“Mother — the truth is, you do love my father, don’t you? Even after what happened that time, you still loved him deeply, didn’t you?”

“No!” Long Feiyan did not slow her pace, her answer crisp and decisive.

Feng Jiu’er watched her retreating figure and let the corner of her mouth lift.

“I just know it — you love my father.”

A woman’s feelings are not so easily hidden.

In those years, her mother had set her whole heart on marrying Emperor Dingtian. After the accident, that hope was abandoned.

Perhaps she had not yet fallen for Father at that time — but later, she surely had.

No love, no hatred either — Feng Jiu’er had long been uncertain whether that saying held true, but it seemed she could understand it now.

Thinking of her father, who occasionally broke into those quiet secret smiles, Feng Jiu’er’s mood lifted considerably.

Even though a knot had been drawn tight somewhere within her, she still had to live on bravely.

For Father, for Mother, for the family they would one day be reunited as — she had to keep going.

Long Feiyan continued forward and said nothing more.

Feng Jiu’er followed, and the two of them stepped out of the thatched cottage.

Catching sight of the man in dark grey robes walking toward them, Feng Jiu’er’s eyes went wide.

“He…” She drew her gaze back to Long Feiyan. “Mother — how is he here?”

Jian Yi, moving on legs that did not quite cooperate, saw Feng Jiu’er and immediately let a hint of a smile spread across his face.

“Ask him yourself.” Long Feiyan came to stop beside a weathered table scattered with medicinal herbs.

“Qing Ye said he rolled down the cliff — it was on the morning of the second day after you fell.”

“Rolled down?” Feng Jiu’er stared wide-eyed, then looked at Jian Yi again.

Jian Yi said nothing, still as a wooden post, gazing quietly at Feng Jiu’er.

“His body is not well, yet he still tries to mimic someone jumping off a cliff. If Qing Ye had not reached him in time, would he even be able to walk now?” Long Feiyan’s voice continued.

For someone as sparing with words as Long Feiyan, the amount she said about Jian Yi was remarkable.

Perhaps it was the influence of what she had just been asked about. Perhaps it was because she held a degree of appreciation for Jian Yi.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at her mother, who was becoming increasingly “endearing” by the moment, then took several steps toward Jian Yi.

Jian Yi’s injuries were not limited to his legs — one could say he was wounded all over.

One cheek had been scraped raw, his otherwise perfect nose bore cut after cut, though mercifully the nose itself had not been destroyed. Both hands were bandaged haphazardly, and his upper body was covered by his robe, making it impossible to see the state beneath.

Her gaze dropped to his legs, which were bent at angles that looked distinctly wrong. Feng Jiu’er bit her lip softly, and something in her throat tightened.

This man — surely he had not heard she’d fallen and leapt after her without a second thought?

“What a fool.” Meeting Jian Yi’s gaze again, Feng Jiu’er murmured.

“A man like this — he’s worth marrying. Give it some thought.” Long Feiyan’s voice carried over from behind.

Feng Jiu’er glanced back at her and said with a mild air: “His face is ruined. If you want to marry him, you marry him.”

“His looks were not bad to begin with — but now that his face is ruined, I don’t want him either.” Long Feiyan’s reply was unhurried.

Dismissed by both mother and daughter, Jian Yi remained entirely at ease.

Feng Jiu’er’s gaze returned to Jian Yi’s face — a face that should have been striking — and it was impossible to say she felt no frustration.

If Qing Ye had not arrived in time, would he truly have been gone from this world?

This man was always such a fool it made one’s heart ache.

“Come on, let me have a look at you. If your face truly is ruined, don’t come blaming me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jian Yi said quietly. “I have no intention of ever parting from you in this lifetime.”

Feng Jiu’er fixed him with a look, momentarily at a loss for a single thing to say in return.

In the end, she glanced back at Long Feiyan and turned to go inside.

“Jiu’er.” Jian Yi called after her.

Feng Jiu’er stopped, looked back — and saw Jian Yi making the labored effort to step forward, pulling free the tattered robe from his own back as he went.

He came to Feng Jiu’er’s side and settled the robe over her shoulders.

“When I am well, I promise — I will never let anyone bully you again.”

Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes to the face beside her, a full head taller than her own, and pressed her lips together quietly.

She had always known that Jian Yi was extraordinarily handsome. Though his face was now covered in scars and wounds, standing here in the sunlight, he was still quite something.

“All right.” She drew a slow breath and nodded. “Then you had better get well quickly. I still have a great many, many, many things to do.”

“From now on, whatever I do, you must stand in front of me. You have a fine appearance — if it ends up ruined, so be it. I certainly do not intend to end up looking like you.”

“Of course.” Jian Yi reached out a hand, intending to pat Feng Jiu’er’s head.

But Feng Jiu’er had already turned and walked ahead, leaving him behind.

Jian Yi curved his lips ever so slightly and stepped forward.

He had not expected the woman ahead of him to suddenly turn back, nearly walking straight into his arms.

Jian Yi looked down at the young woman who had her arms around his waist, blinking his bright eyes.

Feng Jiu’er gave him a light push — though she still held on to him — and it was plain that her attention was not on Jian Yi at all.

From behind Jian Yi’s arm, Feng Jiu’er peered out at Long Feiyan, standing a few paces away.

“Mother.” She called softly, then let go of Jian Yi and appeared before Long Feiyan. “Mother, where did you put my inner garment? I need to know.”

There was something very important in it — important enough that she had kept it on her body even while she slept.

It only occurred to her now, and thinking back, she was genuinely a little shaken. The accident had come so suddenly — it was fortunate she had kept the item on her at all times.

“Under the bedding.” Long Feiyan replied without inflection. “It’s not lost. See to him first — if he ends up lame, there’s no use keeping him.”

“Thank you.” Feng Jiu’er released Jian Yi and vanished from his sight in the blink of an eye.

Jian Yi gave a faint smile and followed her in.

Feng Jiu’er retrieved the two copied map-seals from beneath the bedding, brought them to the table, and sat down.

She had just spread the map-seals out on the table’s surface when Jian Yi walked through the door.

“Come look at this.” Feng Jiu’er beckoned him over.

Jian Yi stepped forward to her side.

“Sit down. Your foot likely has a fracture — but don’t worry, I’m here.”

Feng Jiu’er laid the two copied map-seals side by side, her expression brightening with delight.

“Jian Yi, look.” She glanced up at him and immediately looked back down. “Two maps — they really do fit together. They really do!”