Yet Feng Miaojun simply shrugged her shoulders: “It seems your visit to the royal palace last night went well.”

Indeed it had. At least he had accomplished certain objectives. Following his battle with Yun Ao, the subsequent ambush, and two consecutive days of hurried travel back to the capital, he was at the height of mental and physical excitement. Last night, he had inevitably sought relief with three of his minor ladies. Mo Tijun cleared his throat and swiftly changed the subject: “Prepare yourself. Today you’ll accompany me to the palace.”

Feng Miaojun wasn’t surprised and nodded, saying “All right.” Having completed his urgent matters yesterday, Mo Tijun was now fulfilling his promise to her with remarkable efficiency.

The royal palace was immense, its architecture dignified and imposing, but lacking the ornate pavilions and terraces she had imagined. Feng Miaojun searched through her host body’s memories for quite some time before understanding that such decorative elements were typically found in the inner palace and gardens. The path they walked offered views only of high walls and black tiles.

After walking for an hour and a half, well past noon, she finally met the Prince of Jin in his study.

The Prince of Jin was thirty-five this year, at the prime of his vigor and ambition. Upon meeting, he immediately exempted Feng Miaojun from kneeling. According to Central Plain’s etiquette, a princess need not kneel to any sovereign except her father, but with Feng Miaojun’s Kingdom fallen, her status was somewhat awkward.

This was the first time in her life she had an audience with a living monarch, and she couldn’t help but take a few extra glances.

The man before her appeared not yet thirty, yet possessed an intimidating presence even without anger, his eyes gleaming with intelligence.

Mo Tijun had previously informed her that the Prince of Jin had ascended to the throne at fifteen and had ruled for over twenty years, making him vastly experienced. He had heard about Princess Changle from Mo Tijun yesterday, and after exchanging a few pleasantries today, he smiled with particular warmth: “You’ve helped my Imperial Advisor, which means you’ve done me a great service, deserving reward. But the Imperial Advisor suggests we continue to keep your identity secret for now. Your status in Jin Capital,” he glanced at Mo Tijun, “will be that of the Imperial Advisor’s new disciple.”

He didn’t further question the circumstances of Feng Miaojun’s meeting with Mo Tijun, nor Princess Changle’s identity, which demonstrated his trust in Mo Tijun. As for keeping her identity secret, Mo Tijun had already informed Feng Miaojun that morning, and she was pleased, believing it would make her actions easier.

The Prince of Jin smiled again: “Then allow me to add some embellishment. I grant you a residence next to the Imperial Advisor’s compound, along with one hundred taels of gold, ten hu of pearls, two bolts of ice silk, and one each of blue and white fox fur robes.”

Feng Miaojun respectfully expressed her gratitude, but inwardly sighed, realizing she had been fully committed to Mo Tijun’s scheme.

The Prince’s reason for having her conceal her identity and remain in Jin was simple: one never knew when the “exiled princess of An Xia” might prove a useful chess piece. After all, An Xia had fallen only two years ago, and while its territory had been absorbed by Wei, many of its people still identified themselves as An Xia citizens.

Until then, he would provide her protection.

The Prince also bestowed a jade token upon her: “This is the entry pass to the Smoke Sea Tower. You may use it until I recall it. Remember, if you wish to enter, you must be accompanied by Cao Dehuan.” He clapped twice, and a handsome young eunuch entered from outside and knelt.

“This is Cao Dehuan, who oversees access to the Smoke Sea Tower.” The Prince also gave Cao Dehuan instructions to assist Feng Miaojun in the future.

With that, the matter was concluded.

The Prince and Mo Tijun still had matters to discuss, so Feng Miaojun tactfully took her leave. She hadn’t missed the cold glint in the Prince’s eyes—clearly, the aftermath of Mo Tijun’s ambush was far from over.

As she departed, she happened to leave the palace alongside Cao Dehuan. She had assumed all eunuchs were gloomy, but to her surprise, he greeted her with a smile, neither aloof nor arrogant: “Miss Feng, if you wish to enter the Smoke Sea Tower, please come to Small Lonely Mountain in the western part of the city. Show your token to the guards at the foot of the mountain, and you may ascend.”

With the Smoke Sea Tower matter proceeding smoothly and the Prince’s ready agreement, Feng Miaojun’s mood brightened. She smiled and asked Cao Dehuan: “Master Cao, is Small Lonely Mountain far from the royal city?”

“About forty li,” Cao Dehuan knew she was a foreigner, unfamiliar with the area. “The mountain path is rugged, so do be careful.”

Feng Miaojun thanked him with a smile.

Be careful. Forty li outside the royal city was still well within the Prince’s oversight.

Palace maids escorted them out, where carriages waited not far from the palace gates. Before boarding her carriage, Feng Miaojun glanced back at the palace one last time.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching her.

That night, the area around her guest quarters was quiet, and Feng Miaojun enjoyed a restful sleep.

She had no time to waste, so early the next morning, she slipped out through a side door of the Imperial Advisor’s residence and set off for Small Lonely Mountain in the western part of the city, traveling light. Besides Chen Dachang, she was accompanied by guards assigned by Mo Tijun.

Small Lonely Mountain was aptly named. The area surrounding the royal city was flat, with only this small mound standing to the west. It was no more than a hundred zhang high, yet an entire battalion of soldiers guarded it.

The token given to Feng Miaojun by the Prince of Jin was her pass through these checkpoints.

One token, one person.

Thus, Chen Dachang and the others had to remain at the foot of the mountain, waiting in a teahouse.

Below the mountain ran the official road, bustling with carriages and horses, but the mountain itself was quiet and serene, with only the sounds of wind and birds. Halfway up the mountain, Feng Miaojun saw a small red-walled building. A guard pointed to a bronze bell tethered in front of the building, then turned and left.

She stepped forward and rang the bell. The building’s door opened, and Cao Dehuan emerged to greet her: “Miss Feng, you’re up early.” The sun was not yet strong, indicating the young lady had set out before cockcrow.

“I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep, eager to witness the magnificence of the Smoke Sea Tower.” She spoke this lie with complete sincerity while slipping a small golden fish into his hand.

Among the gold and silver bestowed by the Prince, there were twenty pure gold ingots cast in the shape of fish, exquisitely crafted and of substantial weight, making them excellent gifts. It was said that even seventh-rank officials paid respects at a prime minister’s gate; how much more so for Cao Dehuan, who enjoyed the Prince’s trust? They would be crossing paths frequently in the future, so it was worth spending a little money.

Cao Dehuan accepted it, and his smile now came from the heart: “Follow me.” He picked up a basket and walked behind the building.

Only then did Feng Miaojun discover that a cave was hidden in the depression behind the small building? The entrance was narrow, allowing only two people to pass through side by side. The small red building cleverly concealed it—ninety-nine out of a hundred passersby would never notice the cave.

The Smoke Sea Tower was called a tower but was it a cave? As she pondered this, she didn’t fail to notice the dense array of mystical symbols engraved above the entrance, seemingly forming a formation. Then she followed Cao Dehuan inside.

The cave walls were embedded with a row of small lamps, slightly larger than peaches, filled with a dark red liquid. Yet the flames they produced were pale and bright. She knew this substance was called Ghost Wood Wax, which required only a tiny amount of air to burn and produced almost no smoke. A piece the size of a little finger could last more than forty days.

Legend held that there once existed Merman Oil, a single vat of which could burn for over ten thousand years. Sadly, these rare treasures, along with the legends themselves, had been buried in history. The best alternative people could now collect was Ghost Wood Wax.