Feng Jiu’er stared unblinkingly at the person before her, but in her mind, the scene from that day atop the city wall surfaced once more.

Ye Xuening’s sword that day had pierced her mother’s body just as mercilessly — and the way Ye Xuening had looked at her mother, how vicious it had been!

Now, at last, she would let Ye Xuening feel the same searing pain.

Feng Jiu’er closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled the sword from Zhan Lingtian’s body.

“Ah!”

Ye Xuening wrenched herself free of Qiao Mu’s hold with all her strength and threw herself onto Zhan Lingtian.

“Lingtian, no! Give me back my Lingtian!”

Ye Xuening raised her eyes to look at Feng Jiu’er and tried to stand, but the moment she stirred her energy, she vomited another mouthful of dark blood.

Feng Jiu’er met Ye Xuening’s gaze, the killing intent in her own eyes no less than the other woman’s.

She took a deep breath and let out a cold laugh.

“Now you know what heartache feels like, don’t you?”

“When you were hurting others, did you ever stop to think that they were people too — flesh and blood people who could hurt, who could grieve?”

“The Di family, the Long family, and the countless others you harmed in secret — did you ever spare a thought for them?”

Feng Jiu’er held her sword pointed at Ye Xuening, her whole body trembling.

Di Wu Ya strode forward, took hold of the hand holding the sword, and pulled her protectively into his embrace.

“Ye Xuening, you’ve caused the deaths of so many people, all so your son could sit on the throne.”

“But shouldn’t you also know that a position that was never rightfully his to begin with could never be held securely?”

“Feng Jiu’er, you killed my Lingtian, I’ll…”

Before Ye Xuening could finish, she vomited another large mouthful of dark blood.

“Your Highness.”

Yu Jingfeng came running in from outside.

“We need to withdraw immediately.”

“Besides the Imperial Guards and the Hulong Army, there’s also a large force of black-robed soldiers coming from the rear palace — Zhan Lingtian actually made use of the rear palace too, it seems.”

“Bring her along. Withdraw.”

Di Wu Ya glanced at Ye Xuening, then strode out with his arm around Feng Jiu’er.

Yu Jingfeng nodded and went to grab hold of Ye Xuening, who had been poisoned and could no longer fight, following along.

The group left the main hall together, but before they could even get out of the palace, they found themselves heavily surrounded.

On the high points all around, a dark mass of black-robed soldiers stood, bows in hand, arrowheads glinting with a dim, sinister light.

Feng Jiu’er scanned the surroundings and called out a warning in a low voice.

“The arrowheads are poisoned — everyone be careful.”

“Ninth Imperial Uncle and I will handle the black-robed men. The rest of you focus on this woman — she won’t live much longer anyway. If it comes to it, abandon her.”

“Understood.”

Yu Jingfeng nodded in acknowledgment.

Before anyone could say more, one of the soldiers shouted out, “Save the Empress Dowager, quickly! Save the Empress Dowager!”

The moment the man’s voice fell, all the soldiers surged forward, weapons drawn.

Feng Jiu’er and Di Wu Ya exchanged a glance, then leapt up, transforming once more into dragon and phoenix, soaring like the wind toward the black-robed soldiers all around.

But there were simply too many black-robed soldiers — the two of them couldn’t deal with them all at once.

The dimly glinting poisoned arrows continued to rain down on the crowd below in volleys.

These black-robed men would rather kill ten thousand innocents than let a single one slip away — even if the poisoned arrows were likely to kill their own comrades, they didn’t so much as blink.

Feng Jiu’er had no time to spare for what was happening below — if these black-robed men weren’t dealt with, everyone below would be in danger.

She forced herself not to look down, moving swiftly across walls and rooftops, cutting down the black-robed men.

But no sooner had they cut down one wave than another rose up to take its place.

Strangely enough, they too carried bows, the arrowheads glinting with the same dim light.

The black-robed soldiers surrounding them were like ants swarming a pot — no matter how many she and Ninth Imperial Uncle killed, it seemed there was no end to them.

Reaching a relatively safe spot, Feng Jiu’er stopped and looked down.

Apart from her and Ninth Imperial Uncle, the more than twenty people below had long since been heavily surrounded, everyone fighting with all their strength.

The moment Feng Jiu’er stopped, a dark cluster of poisoned arrows shot straight toward her.

Just as she meant to move away, a great dragon flashed before her eyes.

Feng Jiu’er felt her body grow light as Di Wu Ya carried her to another spot.

The two had barely steadied themselves when a large group of black-robed men came rushing toward them.

Feng Jiu’er snapped back to focus, drawing her sword to fight off the black-robed men coming at her.

Di Wu Ya and Feng Jiu’er fought back to back — neither the men nor the arrows attacking them could so much as graze them.

But they were both flesh and blood, and under such relentless, continuous assault, even they would eventually tire and falter.

What worried Feng Jiu’er more was their brothers below — barely twenty-some of them, facing an army of thousands.

“Jiu’er, focus!”

Suddenly, a voice charged with internal energy pulled Feng Jiu’er’s attention back.

She quickly cut down a poisoned arrow she’d nearly missed, narrowly avoiding being struck.

“Keep holding on!”

Di Wu Ya reminded her again.

“Mm.”

Feng Jiu’er leaned against Di Wu Ya’s broad back and nodded lightly.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and continued fighting off the enemy.

Feng Jiu’er and Di Wu Ya had chosen to focus on the black-robed men not only because of the poisoned arrows in their hands, but for another reason as well.

The black-robed men Zhan Lingtian had trained were exceptionally skilled in combat, far beyond what ordinary soldiers could match.

What Feng Jiu’er hadn’t anticipated was that Zhan Lingtian had managed to train so many men of such formidable skill.

If she and Ninth Imperial Uncle hadn’t joined forces just now, assassinating Zhan Lingtian wouldn’t have been nearly so easy.

With Feng Jiu’er and Di Wu Ya no longer there to interfere, the remaining black-robed men turned their focus mainly onto the more than twenty people below.

Whether Imperial Guards or Hulong Army, they all wore the same uniform, which made it much easier for the enemy to identify them as targets.

Jian Yi, Qiao Mu, Ye Luocha, Elder Shi, Yu Jingfeng, the Twelve Riders of the Soaring Dragon, the four Feng Yandong brothers, and a few other skilled fighters — more than twenty people in total.

They had started out fighting back to back, forming a defensive formation, but before long, that formation was torn apart under the endless barrage of poisoned arrows.

With more than twenty people facing an army of thousands, plus arrows raining down from hidden positions, they quickly found themselves at a disadvantage.

While fighting off their own enemies, Feng Jiu’er and Di Wu Ya kept an eye on the situation below.

Seeing things turning dire, Feng Jiu’er took two steps back, her head bumping against Di Wu Ya’s back.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, they can’t hold on much longer. Let’s go back.”

“All right.”

Di Wu Ya nodded in response.

The two of them leapt up together, slashing their swords through the air beneath their feet at the same moment.

Wherever the blade-force struck, black-robed men were flung through the air, falling from the heights.

Feng Jiu’er and Di Wu Ya, moving at a speed beyond what ordinary eyes could follow, closed in on their own brothers.

“Kill them!”

Within the besieged formation, the guard captain was still shouting.

“Kill them, leave no one!”