Hearing Chen Hong’s name, Feng Jiu’er felt not surprise but relief.

Just how bad was the state of Chen Hong’s face, that it had to be her specifically?

Since that was the case, she ought to make good use of it.

The sixty thousand soldiers on this westward march had all been handpicked by Feng Jiu’er—every one of them among the best in lightness skill.

The State-Protector Army chasing them had grown from a few tens of thousand to now at least a hundred thousand.

Add in the ninety thousand Gao Family troops, and they now faced an army of over two hundred thousand.

If they could not win by force, they would have to rely on strategy.

“When and where does she want to meet?” Feng Jiu’er asked softly.

“The hour of noon, at Zhuxian Valley,” Xing Zizhou said, handing over the letter in his hand. “Jiu’er, are you really going to keep the appointment?”

“There’s still some time. No need to rush!” Feng Jiu’er took the letter, glanced at it, set it aside, and pulled out the terrain map.

“This is Zhuxian Valley.” Xing Zizhou pointed to a small spot on the map.

He moved his long finger and continued, “Chen Hong’s army is currently here.”

“Whether they come in or we go out, either way we have to pass through a fairly long stretch of mountain-stream road.”

“Our scouts report that General Lu’s fifty thousand State-Protector troops are right behind them. Jiu’er, this meeting carries great risk.”

“Great risk or not, I still have to go.” Feng Jiu’er pulled out a pen and bent her head to mark the terrain map.

“Jiu’er, you mean we’re not entering the mountain together?” Xing Zizhou frowned.

“Of course not.” Feng Jiu’er shook her head. “Have Zhao Yusheng and Feng Yinan come over. I have something to arrange.”

“Pick another three hundred brothers with the best lightness skill. You and Xiao Yingtao stay behind to arrange tasks for the rest.”

“I…”

“Go, quickly! Whether we can return safely depends on all of you.” Before Xing Zizhou could finish speaking, Feng Jiu’er cut him off.

He glanced at Xiao Yingtao, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

Soon, Xing Zizhou, Zhao Yusheng, and Feng Yinan gathered in the courtyard.

More than an hour later, everyone finally dispersed one by one.

At the hour of noon, Feng Jiu’er saw a woman she had not seen in a long time.

Beside Chen Hong stood a figure Feng Jiu’er knew well. He looked much like Jian Yi, but he was actually her third imperial brother, Feng Jiang.

Feng Jiu’er looked at Feng Jiang for a long moment before sitting down across from Chen Hong.

“Speak. What do you want from me?”

Chen Hong looked at her, the corner of her mouth curling slightly. “Feng Jiu’er, do you truly believe I wouldn’t kill you?”

“Bringing only two or three hundred men into the mountains—how little do you think of my thirty thousand soldiers?”

Feng Jiu’er picked up the cup on the table, casually poured out the wine inside, and toyed with the empty cup in her hand.

“I heard your face has been completely ruined. Turns out it’s true. If you want me to heal you, that’s not impossible—give Jian Yi back to me!”

When she raised her eyes to look at Chen Hong, the playful glint that had been in them a moment ago instantly froze into frost.

“What exactly did you do to him?”

With a crack, the cup in Feng Jiu’er’s hand shattered into powder.

“What fine inner strength!” Chen Hong clapped her hands, then turned and crooked a finger toward Feng Jiang. “Come here.”

Feng Jiang, his face utterly blank, came over and sat beside her.

His eyes were hollow, exactly like a soulless puppet.

Feng Jiu’er closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and slowly opened them again.

“Give him back to me, and I guarantee your face can be fully restored.”

Chen Hong knew Jian Yi’s place in Feng Jiu’er’s heart. If Feng Jiu’er hadn’t cared about Jian Yi, Chen Hong would certainly have grown suspicious.

“Heh, shouldn’t you hate him enough to want him dead right now? He killed your third imperial brother, Feng Jiu’er—have you forgotten?”