Seeing that Jian Yi still wanted to draw closer, Feng Jiu’er frowned: “Jian Yi, you should know perfectly well — right now, you are no match for me.”
She raised her eyes and met Jian Yi’s gaze, then Feng Jiu’er suddenly pouted: “I’m reluctant to part with everyone too.”
“It took so much effort to swallow back my tears. You’re not trying to make me cry before I leave, are you?”
Jian Yi looked at her, drew a long, slow breath, and sat down in her chair.
“Go and make your preparations. I will stay with you until the very end.”
“Alright.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and turned toward the inner chamber.
As she walked in, she glanced back once more.
Jian Yi sat in the main seat, watching the direction in which Feng Jiu’er had disappeared with an unblinking gaze — still as a sculpture.
For a full two hours, it was only when Feng Jiu’er emerged from the inner chamber dressed in dark night-travel clothing that Jian Yi finally withdrew his gaze and rose to his feet.
The two exchanged a glance, said nothing, and walked out together.
Di Wuya’s army did not slow its advance until it pressed close to the imperial capital.
Within the palace, Feng Qingyin had just executed one of Emperor Qiwen’s consorts to vent her frustration and returned to her own Qingxiang Hall.
“My lady.” No sooner had Lingling entered the main hall than she dropped to her knees.
Feng Qingyin swept her robes aside and took her seat in the main chair.
“When did my Imperial Brother say he would return?” She fixed her eyes on Lingling and asked in a low voice.
“This…” Lingling glanced up briefly, then lowered her head again.
Feng Qingyin flung her hand sideways, and every piece of the tea set on the table crashed to the floor, shattering to pieces.
“Is he really willing to let the Crown Prince fall ill without coming back even once to see him? Or are you telling me you never even got word of the Crown Prince’s illness through to him?”
“My lady, I have already sent out the news as you instructed — and yet His Majesty has still not sent any reply.”
“Perhaps the war situation is too pressing, and His Majesty has simply no time to attend to other matters,” Lingling replied softly.
“What could possibly be more important than his own son falling ill?” Feng Qingyin let out a cold snort, seething with fury.
“I don’t care! If he still doesn’t come back, I am moving into Xuanhua Hall today. I am the Empress — how can I go on living alongside the consorts of that dead old man?”
“My lady, I think it would be best if you waited a little longer.” Lingling rose to her feet.
“Right now the entire rear palace is yours. Just wait a while — once His Majesty has settled his affairs, he will surely come back and grant you your formal title.”
“When that time comes, won’t you be able to move into Xuanhua Hall in a perfectly proper and legitimate way?”
“Wait?” Feng Qingyin frowned. “I’ve been waiting so long already. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Go and have people scrub Xuanhua Hall from top to bottom inside and out. I am moving in today.”
“This…” Lingling’s brow furrowed, and she did not turn to leave immediately.
Feng Qingyin glared at her and stood up: “Who do you think you are, daring to disobey my orders? Don’t forget — whose hand it was that pulled your life back from the brink?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Lingling fell to her knees with a thud.
“Yes, my lady — I will go at once and have someone deliver your message to His Majesty.”
“Hurry up and go!” Feng Qingyin swept a glance over Lingling and withdrew her gaze.
Lingling nodded, rose, turned, and headed for the door.
But just then, an eunuch’s announcement carried in from outside.
“His Majesty has arrived!”
Lingling spun around at once and stared at Feng Qingyin with wide eyes: “My lady, it’s His Majesty — His Majesty has come!”
Feng Qingyin glanced toward the outside, straightened her robes, and stepped out with graceful, measured strides.
“Go — bring the little prince out.”
Zhan Yuheng had not yet formally acknowledged Feng Qingyin’s status. The child Feng Qingyin called the Crown Prince was indeed her own, but he had not yet been officially granted that title.
“Yes.” Lingling nodded and turned toward the other direction.
Having longed and yearned for this moment for so long, Feng Qingyin was overjoyed to finally lay eyes on this face.
Yet she did not, as she had done before, rush forward like a bee drawn to honey. Instead, she walked only a short distance outside before coming to a stop.
“Your Majesty — greetings.” Feng Qingyin looked at the man approaching and gave a demure curtsy.
“Outrageous! You see His Majesty before you and you don’t kneel?” The old eunuch fixed his sharp, cold eyes on Feng Qingyin, his voice low and stern.
“You…” Feng Qingyin stared at the old eunuch, her eyes filled with murderous intent.
She had been pleased to see Zhan Yuheng — but now this wretched, supposedly dead eunuch had actually appeared here, and had the audacity to treat her with such disrespect.
The old eunuch was the Grand Eunuch who had remained at Emperor Qiwen’s side on the very night Feng Qingyin killed him.
Feng Qingyin had long since given the order to eliminate this old man — but Lingling had never been able to locate him.
Ever since Emperor Qiwen’s passing, the Grand Eunuch had seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. Lingling had searched every corner of the palace, and even a great many places throughout the imperial city, and had found not a trace of him.
Feng Qingyin swept the Grand Eunuch with a glance and turned her gaze back to Zhan Yuheng.
“Your Majesty, this old slave deserves to die!”
Zhan Yuheng’s gaze swept across Feng Qingyin only in passing, and he continued forward, making his way into the hall and taking his seat in the main chair.
Feng Qingyin kept her eyes on him, stamping her foot in frustration.
“Your Majesty, would you really let this old scoundrel humiliate me?”
“Who deserves to die remains to be seen!” The Grand Eunuch shot Feng Qingyin a sharp look, then turned back to Qingyun: “General Yun, would you be so kind as to close the doors?”
Qingyun nodded and turned toward the outside.
Feng Qingyin glanced back, an involuntary crease forming between her brows.
Once Qingyun had closed the doors, Lingling — oblivious to the situation — came out carrying an infant.
“Your Majesty, is that the infant?” The Grand Eunuch glanced at Lingling, then turned back to look at His Majesty, hands clasped respectfully.
Zhan Yuheng swept a glance at Lingling and said in a low voice: “Bring the infant over.”
This was the first time he had spoken since entering.
“Yes.” Lingling withdrew her gaze from the Grand Eunuch and gave a curtsy.
Feng Qingyin glanced between Zhan Yuheng and the infant, then suddenly lurched forward and snatched the infant from Lingling’s arms.
“What are you doing? Would you dare defy His Majesty’s command?” The Grand Eunuch fixed his eyes on Feng Qingyin, his voice low and stern.
Feng Qingyin shot that insufferable old creature a glance, then turned her eyes back to Zhan Yuheng.
“Your Majesty, what are you trying to do? Why do you want my child?”
Today, the way His Majesty looked at their child was different from before — Feng Qingyin had taken notice.
And this wretched old eunuch who refused to die — why had he suddenly appeared here?
The Grand Eunuch looked back at Zhan Yuheng. Zhan Yuheng gave an expressionless nod.
With His Majesty’s permission, the Grand Eunuch turned and reached for the infant in Feng Qingyin’s arms.
Feng Qingyin had not expected the old creature to dare snatch directly — caught off guard for a moment, the child nearly ended up in his hands.
She snapped back immediately and, with no regard for anything else, yanked the infant back: “You wretch! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Wah, wah, wah” — the infant, startled and hurt, broke into loud wailing that filled the hall.
“You miserable old thing — you’ve hurt my Crown Prince, and I will never forgive you!” Feng Qingyin glared at the Grand Eunuch and flung her hand in a commanding gesture.
“Lingling — kill him! He dared lay hands on the current dynasty’s Crown Prince — kill him!”