After the evening meal and the teasing at the bridal chamber, Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu went together to another house.

Inside, Di Wu Ya, Feng Jiang, Yu Jingfeng, and Yang Sheng were still discussing matters.

As soon as Feng Jiu’er entered, she went straight into Di Wu Ya’s embrace.

Qiao Mu sat down not far from Feng Jiang.

“What’s wrong?” Feng Jiu’er looked up at Di Wu Ya. “Everyone’s faces look so heavy?”

Suddenly, as though she’d thought of something, she gripped Di Wu Ya’s arm.

“Did Sister Hua’s letter mention something about my father?”

Di Wu Ya looked down at the woman in his arms and nodded slightly.

“News has come out of the capital that Prince Ye is getting married on the thirtieth of June.”

“My father is getting married?” Feng Jiu’er’s brow furrowed tightly.

She took a deep breath and looked away.

“The thirtieth of June—that’s still over thirty days away, just enough time for us to make it to the capital. Could this be a trap?”

“Even if it’s a trap, we still have to go,” Feng Jiang said.

“As long as I still have some use to Feng Qiongcang, he won’t put me to death.”

“And if you no longer have any use to him?” Qiao Mu stood up.

Feng Jiang stood, took two steps over, wrapped his arms around her, and sat back down with her.

“You’ll come with me, won’t you?” His arms held Qiao Mu, his chin resting atop her head.

Qiao Mu said nothing, looking instead at Feng Jiu’er.

“I’m going too,” Feng Jiu’er said, looking up at Di Wu Ya.

“Third Brother is no match for Feng Qiongcang. I’ll go with him.”

Di Wu Ya, as though he’d already known Feng Jiu’er would make this decision, lowered his head and kissed her forehead without a word.

Feng Jiu’er closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the air carrying his familiar scent, then slowly opened them again.

“Tell me your plan—we’ll set out tomorrow.”

About an hour later, everyone had left, and only Di Wu Ya and Feng Jiu’er remained in the room.

Feng Jiu’er rose in Di Wu Ya’s embrace, turned, and wrapped her arms around his head.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, let’s get engaged tonight, shall we?”

“How does one get engaged?” Di Wu Ya’s voice carried a touch of huskiness.

Feng Jiu’er let go of the man and looked into his eyes.

“Getting engaged means recognizing that we’re each other’s forever. The wedding is just a formality.”

Di Wu Ya asked nothing more. He pulled the girl down into his embrace, lowered his head, and kissed her.

The two of them moved from outside, into the room, and onto the bed…

The next morning, Feng Jiu’er woke in the gentle arms of the man.

She lazily rolled over and closed her eyes again.

But then the man suddenly rolled over too, pinning her beneath him.

Their eyes met, both their faces flushed with joy.

“Husband,” Feng Jiu’er said, raising an eyebrow.

“Wife,” Di Wu Ya murmured, lowering his head to kiss her rosy lips.

Feng Jiu’er pushed him away, turning her head to the side, revealing a flushed little face.

She took a deep breath before looking back at the man.

“Remember, from now on, you can only be my, Feng Jiu’er’s, husband.”

“You can only be this prince’s wife,” Di Wu Ya said simply, leaning in closer.

“No!” Feng Jiu’er pulled out her hand, blocking her lips.

With her other hand, she lightly slapped the man’s face, and with a shiver, slipped free of his embrace.

“I’m going out to eat breakfast, I’m hungry.”

Feng Jiu’er rolled off the bed, grabbed her clothes, and ran off.

Left behind, the prince watched her fleeing figure, the corner of his mouth curving into a happy smile.

A moment later, he swung his long legs off the bed as well.

Yu Jingfeng had already prepared breakfast for the two of them. Seeing the loving couple so wrapped up in each other, he slipped away to find Leng Xuepiao.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, in this lifetime, meeting me—don’t you feel like you got the short end of the deal?” Feng Jiu’er asked after taking a bite of the white porridge Di Wu Ya had fed her.

Di Wu Ya said nothing, set down the bowl, and picked up a sweet potato.

Watching him happily eating the sweet potato, Feng Jiu’er really did think he’d gotten the worse end of things.

If not for her, he would already be a ruler of a nation, enjoying the life every man dreamed of.

Feng Jiu’er lunged over, snatched away the sweet potato Di Wu Ya had been eating, and took a bite herself.

“Actually, what I want to say is—meeting you in this lifetime made me so happy.”

Di Wu Ya still said nothing, picking up another sweet potato and peeling it.

Feng Jiu’er shifted closer, burrowing into the man’s embrace, eating the sweet potato with a look of complete contentment on her face.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, when can I give you a child?”

“I want to give you a son—a son who looks like you, so handsome!”

Di Wu Ya wrapped one arm around the person in his embrace, still saying nothing.

On the table, aside from the sweet potatoes, there was only white porridge, yet the atmosphere in the courtyard was unusually warm and happy.

“I also want to give you a little princess—a little princess who looks like me, so beautiful!”

Feng Jiu’er’s eyes sparkled, her expression delighted, looking every bit the spoiled princess.

Reunions were always brief. After breakfast, the groups gradually left Panlong Stronghold one after another.

Feng Jiu’er and her man had been wrapped up together the entire morning, but eventually they had to part ways.

To avoid drawing attention, each departing group kept its numbers small.

Feng Jiu’er, Duan Liuyang, Zhao Yusheng, and Jian Yi set out with a dozen or so brothers from Tianji Hall.

Zhao Yusheng led the group the whole way.

Jian Yi, who had drunk who knows how much the night before, fell fast asleep the moment he got in the carriage.

Another group was led by Qiao Mu—Qiao Mu, Feng Yinan, Yue Qinchun, and Leng Xuepiao, also bringing along a dozen or so brothers.

The third group was led by Xing Zizhou, with Xing Zizhou and Xiao Yingtao leading several dozen brothers.

The fourth group was led by Gong Xinyue and Gong Xing’er, assisted by Long Shiyi, leading several dozen elite fighters from Panlong Stronghold.

The army was under Feng Jiang’s command; he set out before dawn had even broken.

A month later…

In the capital, in the imperial palace’s Yaxiang Hall, a terrified scream rang out.

Hearing it, the maids rushed inside one after another.

“Noble Consort, what happened?” asked the maid kneeling at the front.

Consort Ya turned away from the mirror, facing backward.

Several maids stared at her face, hands clamped tightly over their mouths.

The maid kneeling at the front stood and stepped closer.

“Noble Consort, your face—why is it still…”

“I should be asking you what’s going on!” Consort Ya raised her hand in fury.

The maid approached her, lifted her chin, and knelt down.

“Slap!”

A five-fingered mark instantly appeared across the maid’s face.

“Slap! Slap! Slap!”

Consort Ya, staring at this face that was fairer and more radiant than her own, gave in to jealousy and struck the maid’s face again and again.

“Do you think I’m getting old, that I’m easy to bully?”

“Slap, slap,” the sound of the strikes continued to ring through the hall.

“What sort of nonsense have you brought in here, trying to ruin me, trying to replace me, is that it?”

“No! It’s not like that at all!” As the maid spoke, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

“Slap, slap, slap…” Consort Ya still seemed unsatisfied.

Seeing this, another maid knelt and shuffled forward.

“Noble Consort, I heard a new shop opened in the capital, one that specializes in business for women.”

“What do you think—should we go try it out?”

—