The room fell silent for a moment before Feng Jin spoke. “When will there be results?”

“As for Feng Jiu’er, now is not yet the time.”

Chen Hong took a sip of tea and set down the cup.

She looked down at the teapot, frowning. “Even the Eldest Prince can drink this kind of tea—truly able to bend when needed.”

“Feng Jiu’er still has value to be used, so she can’t die just yet. However, I can give the Eldest Prince a gift first.”

Feng Jin curled his lips into a smile and picked up the teapot. “I’m listening.”

“Feng Jiang. What do you think?”

Chen Hong responded.

Feng Jin raised his eyes, meeting her gaze.

Chen Hong’s lips curved upward as she continued, “Throughout the entire realm, aside from Feng Jiu’er, it would be very hard to find anyone else who could restore my appearance.”

“She must be kept alive for a while longer.”

“Very well!”

Feng Jin stood, turning his back to the window.

“As long as you can capture Feng Jiu’er and Feng Jiang, the terms you named, I will agree to all of them.”

Feng Jin turned around, came to Chen Hong’s side, and bent down slightly.

“I like greedy people the most—don’t disappoint me.”

Chen Hong raised her eyes, meeting Feng Jin’s gaze head-on, and replied, “The Eldest Prince may rest assured!”

“Good!”

Feng Jin withdrew his gaze and turned to leave. “Hahaha”—his laughter grew low, cold, and merciless.

The chill of the countryside stood in stark contrast to the bustle of the great estate within the city.

The boat docked at shore, and Di Wu Ya led Feng Jiu’er off it.

The two of them stood in the pavilion in the middle of the lake, facing the crowd.

“Congratulations, my lord! Congratulations, Miss Jiu’er!”

Yu Jingfeng stood at the front of the crowd, presenting the first bouquet of roses to the newly engaged couple.

Along the path leading to the lakeside pavilion, the Twelve Flying Dragon Riders stood in a line on the left, while a dozen or so members of the Tianji Hall, led by Xiao Yingtao, stood on the right.

Each person held a bouquet of large red roses in hand.

With a thwack, Xiao Yingtao, who had leapt up, smacked Yu Jingfeng hard on the head.

“It’s ‘Princess Consort’—Jiu’er has already agreed to the lord’s proposal, so now she’s your Princess Consort.”

Xiao Yingtao corrected him.

Yu Jingfeng, holding flowers in one hand and covering his head with the other, nodded rapidly. “Right, Princess Consort. Her Highness the Princess Consort.”

Everyone was amused by Yu Jingfeng’s pitiful expression.

Feng Jiu’er took the bouquet Yu Jingfeng handed her, looped her arm through Di Wu Ya’s, and straightened her back as she walked forward.

Before crossing over into this world, she certainly never imagined she’d one day walk down a red carpet like this.

Moreover, the man beside her wasn’t just the strongest in the universe—he was also her one true love.

“Congratulations, my lord! Congratulations, Your Highness the Princess Consort.”

Amid everyone’s blessings, Di Wu Ya and Feng Jiu’er walked along the freshly laid red carpet.

The sun was perfect, birds sang and flowers bloomed—today was a good day.

“My lord, Princess Consort, why not hold your wedding today?”

Xiao Yingtao chased after the newlyweds, offering the suggestion.

Feng Jiu’er stopped in her tracks, and Di Wu Ya, following her lead, stopped as well.

The people behind them all stopped in turn.

Feng Jiu’er turned to look at everyone, thought about it for a moment, and nodded with a curl of her lips.

“Xiao Yingtao’s suggestion isn’t bad!”

She withdrew her gaze and looked up at Di Wu Ya. “Ninth Imperial Uncle, what do you think?”

“As long as wife is happy.”

Just as Di Wu Ya’s gentle large hand was about to touch Feng Jiu’er, she suddenly let go of him.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll go get ready. Ninth Imperial Uncle, remember to come pick me up on time. Let’s go!”

At Feng Jiu’er’s command, the more than ten members of Tianji Hall passed by Di Wu Ya and followed Feng Jiu’er away.

Yu Jingfeng watched the group leave and hurried to catch up.

“My lord, was what Her Highness the Princess Consort said true?”