Feng Yuan didn’t want to waste words with Yan Xiaoying on this matter.

If Meng Zhun wanted to achieve merit and gain capital for himself, he would have to do it personally.

Was he, a military officer, the same kind of frail person as Feng Qiyuan, needing a woman to stand in for him?

With that, the decision was made and would not be changed.

Xiaoying could barely contain her anger as she continued to glare at Feng Yuan.

But his contempt for her was understandable—after all, she had been technically inferior and became this Grand Prince’s defeated opponent!

She took a deep breath, consoling herself: If Linchuan truly couldn’t be defended, her foster father and the others had legs; they could retreat early and gain freedom, which was better than being imprisoned with her father at Xinxin Garden.

There was no need to argue with this lofty prince over such matters now.

Three days after planning at Xinxin Garden, what had been plans on paper quickly became reality.

With the cooperation of the shadow guard leader Mu Hanjiang and his intelligence network in Wei Country, things progressed even more smoothly than anticipated.

News that the Crown Prince had been kidnapped by Wei traitors in collusion with Shang Youdao and taken to Feng Tail Slope as a prisoner spread like wildfire.

Elder Teng stood crying at the edge of Lian River again, shouting that he would jump in. Fortunately, Mu Hanjiang managed to console the elder in time, asking if he could write a few letters and memorials before jumping.

So Elder Teng began writing, requesting Chen’s army to send troops to rescue the Crown Prince.

The deputy commander left in charge declined, citing the need for approval from superiors to engage Wei Country in battle, and the fact that General Chen Nuo had yet to return.

Elder Teng was so angry that his beard flew wildly as he cursed loudly, saying that with such an army, the country was doomed!

Out of “desperation,” Feng Yuan suddenly remembered his uncle’s commander might be able to help in this emergency. He sent a carrier pigeon to General Dong in distant Xichuan, asking him to dispatch twenty thousand troops to rescue the Crown Prince from his predicament.

Meanwhile, the seriously injured Chen Nuo was carried on a stretcher, conspicuously transported to a medical clinic in Youma Town for treatment.

His limbs were broken and deformed, a pitiful sight to behold—it was clear that the once-mighty defender of the nation was completely ruined.

When Wei Country received the secret report, Gu Zhi was overjoyed and began mobilizing his troops.

Finally, after a heavy rain, on a foggy, rainy day, Wei Country brazenly sent out troops, breaking the ceasefire agreement with Dafeng, ambushing Linchuan to capture the city in one stroke, and advancing their forces.

Xiaoying stood outside Xinxin Garden, seeing her foster father and the others off.

She had already discussed strategies for guarding the dam with her foster father the night before. Though Meng’s troops were quite familiar with the terrain there, Xiaoying still couldn’t rest easy. She had her foster father take along carrier pigeons from Xinxin Garden and gave detailed instructions before they departed.

Finally, Meng Zhun laughed and cried: “Silly child, do you think your foster father doesn’t know how to fight just because you lead troops? This time we’re only assisting in battle; nothing will happen to us!”

Xiaoying reluctantly stopped talking. Since she had started leading troops for her foster father at age fifteen, she had never been the one left behind to wait.

But now all she could do was follow her habit—she braided safety cords for her foster father and the others.

A thin red cord, with a copper coin that had been incinerated in the shrine tied to it. The coin’s year was precisely “Yong’an,” meaning eternal peace, tied around the wrist as a wish that someone was waiting for their safe return.

“When the battle ends, come back and report your safety first. Don’t let those who remain worry…”

Xiaoying took out a handful and distributed them one by one, giving instructions to each person.

Soon, she came to Feng Yuan. The tall man purposely dismounted and extended his large palm, ready to accept Xiaoying’s safety cord.

There had been a thick bundle, enough for everyone, but when it came to Feng Yuan, not a single one remained.

Seeing Feng Yuan’s outstretched hand, Xiaoying smiled and clasped her fists: “Grand Prince is noble; I imagine you wouldn’t care for such crude objects. I only wish the Grand Prince victory in battle and achievements to establish your merit!”

Treated so differently, Feng Yuan slowly withdrew his hand, his thin lips compressed into a line, the bright expectation in his eyes gradually fading. He silently watched the woman walk past him, then turned to grab the reins and, with one long-legged leap, mounted his horse.

Then the young lord spurred his horse, leading the way with a group of his attendants, leaving a trail of dust behind.

Her foster father and the others also spurred their horses to follow. Xiaoying stood at the garden gate, looking at the winding road down the mountain until the dust from the horses’ hooves dispersed.

This feeling of gazing into the distance like a wife watching from a cliff had not occurred since she was fifteen—it felt… just as hateful as before!

When she turned around, Xiaoying discovered that Feng Yuan’s attendants, large men in black clothing, were standing behind her.

It seemed Feng Yuan was indeed worried about her and had found many skilled experts to serve as her prison guards.

Xiaoying grimaced with a smile, lifted her skirt, and turned back into the garden.

Meanwhile, in Linchuan, battle was imminent.

Luo Zhen’s request for reinforcements from Chen’s army was unsuccessful, leaving him to defend Linchuan with his forces alone.

Wei Country’s troops attacked the city for a day and a night. Seeing they couldn’t capture the city quickly, they indeed devised the scheme Yan Xiaoying had predicted earlier—sending people to the dam, intending to flood the city.

Unfortunately for them, the Wei troops sent to the dam were ambushed by local “bandits” on their way.

Layer upon layer of traps and ground spikes made it difficult for the troops to advance even a step.

The mountain bandits cleverly used their terrain advantage, shooting arrows from hiding, setting ambushes, laying iron caltrops, employing all manner of tricks that prevented the enemy from reaching the dam.

With this delay, another day passed.

Three days and three nights went by like this, with carrier pigeons constantly sending messages to and from various parts of Linchuan.

General Luo Zhen lived up to expectations, successfully holding off Wei Country’s attacking army.

Meanwhile, General Dong Dingneng arrived on schedule by fast boat, leading his troops in a surprise attack on Feng Tail Slope from behind.

Taking advantage of Feng Tail Slope’s emptiness, they changed the flags on the city walls almost without losing a single soldier.

The Wei troops attacking Linchuan sensed something was wrong. Abandoning their siege, they hurriedly retreated, but found no escape route.

Dafeng’s main force had arrived—the Grand Prince, eager to rescue the Crown Prince, had joined forces with General Dong, cutting through the middle to divide and conquer, killing the fleeing Wei soldiers until not a single armor remained.

As for the Grand Prince, he was particularly valiant in battle, serving as General Dong Dingneng’s vanguard, pursuing the enemy for a thousand li as if through unoccupied territory…

News spread of the Dafeng imperial army’s thousand-li victory, the recapture of Feng Tail Slope, and the successful rescue of the “Crown Prince.”

The night her foster father and the others returned from Linchuan, a light rain fell.

Xiaoying stood outside Xinxin Garden holding an oilpaper umbrella, gazing into the distance for a long time.

Finally, through the sparse raindrops, she spotted a convoy of carriages and horses.

Her foster father rode his horse at the front, a trace of a smile that hadn’t been seen for a long time appearing on his weathered face.

Xiaoying knew this was the pleasure of an upright man defending his country and drinking enemy blood.

In these seven years, she hadn’t seen such a smile on her foster father’s face for a long time.

Even when they had successfully evaded pursuit by government soldiers before, her foster father had never smiled like this…

Perhaps Feng Yuan was right—for spirited men, rushing headlong into deadly battles was always better than skulking and hiding through the days…

It seemed unnecessary to ask; their defense of Linchuan had gone well.

Xiaoying smiled as she went forward to welcome the victorious soldiers.

For this defense of the dam, Meng Zhun and the others had used strategies planned by Xiaoying: utilizing advantageous terrain, traps, ground spikes, and iron nets set in critical locations. Fishing lines were strung among patches of tree branches that, with a slight pull, created an illusion of a large force, making the enemy believe mountains and forests were filled with ambushes.

The enemy troops had no idea how many men were hiding in the surrounding hills and forests. Thus, through a combination of fighting and intimidation, they had successfully repelled the Wei troops attempting to destroy the dam.

After exchanging greetings with them, Xiaoying did not see that tall figure. She casually asked her foster father: “Didn’t the Grand Prince return with you?”

Meng Zhun had removed his armor. Hearing Xiaoying’s question, his hand paused slightly: “That Grand Prince went berserk with killing at Feng Tail Slope. I heard he was injured and probably won’t be able to return for a while.”

Xiaoying frowned slightly: “Where was he injured?”

Meng Zhun couldn’t say clearly. After all, they had been on the front lines at the dam, while Feng Yuan was with General Dong Dingneng intercepting Wei troops retreating from Linchuan and then pursuing the fleeing commander Gu Zhi into Wei territory.

Meng Zhun had only heard a brief mention from a messenger, which is why he mentioned it to Xiaoying.

Now, Meng Zhun’s volunteer army had been incorporated into Luo Zhen’s military camp, and the other brothers were still in Linchuan, counting and collecting supplies.

Meng Zhun had been worried about Xiaoying, which is why he had brought a few trusted men to rush back to see her and, taking advantage of Feng Yuan’s absence, discuss what came next.

However, since Xiaoying had brought up the Grand Prince, Meng Zhun felt the need to say more: “Although that Grand Prince was willing to help us and clear our names, as a person… he is excessively murderous and deeply scheming. When dealing with him, you must remain vigilant!”

News of Feng Yuan’s beheading of Wei Country’s famous general Gu Zhi had already spread throughout all the military camps.

It was said that Feng Yuan had pursued him a hundred li from Feng Tail Slope into Wei territory, shot down Gu Zhi’s mount, causing him to fall, stripped off his battle armor, loosened his hair, and dragged him along the way before brutally killing him with cuts to the bone, his body drenched in blood, and finally hanging his head on the city walls.

Although in warfare between armies one couldn’t afford to show mercy, such behavior seemed quite savage to the ritual-abiding Dafeng people, confirming rumors of this prince’s naturally frenzied, bloodthirsty nature.

Meng Zhun suddenly remembered the prince’s cold, determined demeanor the night he captured Xiaoying, and couldn’t help but worry for her.

“With the Grand Prince, you should respect him, but also keep your distance. Avoid offending him with your words and be careful in every way.”

Gu Zhi? Xiaoying had heard this name from Chen Nuo’s lips. If he was the one who had captured and humiliated Ye Zhanxue in the past…

Feng Yuan’s unusual behavior wasn’t surprising.

That was Feng Yuan’s nightmare and obsession, a poisonous hatred accumulated for over twenty years, a sick shame that could only be washed away with fresh blood for his mother…

But this matter concerned the Grand Prince’s mother’s reputation. Xiaoying couldn’t tell her foster father about it, so she just smiled reassuringly, saying that they were only dealing with the Grand Prince for mutual benefit, and changed the subject.

Although Meng’s troops had established merit, whether they would receive imperial amnesty depended on the imperial will. Regardless, after the Jiangzhe campaign, her foster father would eventually have to return to the capital.

Xiaoying led her foster father and the others back to the dining hall for a meal and more conversation.

Having guarded the dam for so long, her foster father and the others were exhausted. After quickly washing up and finishing dinner, they each retired to their rooms to rest.

Xiaoying watched as the rain outside grew heavier, and finally took an umbrella and walked toward the stables.

“My lady, where are you going?” As she walked toward the outside of Xinxin Garden, a large man approached and asked softly.

Xiaoying looked at his dark, large hands and recognized him as the expert who had single-handedly taken down Chen Nuo that day.

Such hands must have been trained in Iron Sand Palm or some similar external martial art.

Feng Yuan truly feared she might escape as a hostage; he had left such a skilled fighter to watch over her.

Out of boredom, Xiaoying decided to test him, saying she wanted to go out riding.

To her surprise, the man didn’t stop her but instead called for someone to prepare a carriage, then said to Xiaoying: “The roads are slippery in the rain, my lady. It would be safer for you to take a carriage.”

Xiaoying asked his name; he said he was called Shen Jing.

“Does your master allow me to leave the garden?”

“The master instructed that as long as I ensure the lady’s safety, you may go anywhere.”

So that was it. Feng Yuan was quite generous, keeping her as a hostage but not restricting her freedom of movement! She had been overthinking.

Xiaoying smiled: “Let’s go to the Linchuan camp!”

Shen Jing had the driver prepare the carriage, but before they had gone too far, Xiaoying suddenly called for a stop: “Never mind, the rain is too heavy and the roads are bad. Let’s not go after all.”

Shen Jing heard this and didn’t say much, just had the driver turn the carriage back.

After getting out of the carriage, Xiaoying didn’t return to her room but instead walked aimlessly around the garden in her wooden clogs, holding her umbrella, stopping here and there.

She realized that when she heard Feng Yuan was injured, she had wanted to go to the military camp to check on him.

But how could she go to such a crowded place with the Crown Prince’s face?

Besides, there would be doctors in the camp. If he were injured, someone would take care of him.

However, thinking of Feng Yuan’s silent, slightly hurt expression before departure when he didn’t receive a safety cord, Xiaoying had the superstitious thought: could it be that because he lacked that one cord, Feng Yuan was injured?

Such an absurd and presumptuous idea naturally needed to be doused with rain, to see if the foolish thought could be extinguished.

Now the rain beat on the banana leaves, and even the garden’s flower beds were beaten askew.

One of the winter jasmine flowers was already submerged in a puddle.

Xiaoying casually took a wooden stick and gradually dug up the soil to divert the water.

At this time, the rain grew heavier. She turned, intending to go back to her room to rest. Her wooden clogs became slippery; Xiaoying stumbled, and one foot slid out, stepping into a muddy puddle.

Just as she was about to put her shoe back on, a large hand reached out, firmly gripping the lady’s slender ankle.

Xiaoying was startled to find that the lord who should have been at Feng Tail Slope was in full armor, calmly kneeling, holding up her foot with one hand, just as he had when he first came to Xinxin Garden.

But this time, clad in battle armor and without a handkerchief, he tore a piece from the lining of his armor to wipe away the mud from her foot.

Unfortunately, the cloth was already soaked with blood and rain, and this wiping only left specks of blood on her pearly white instep.

The man frowned, released the cloth, and reached out to scoop rainwater from a nearby puddle, wanting to clean her delicate foot.

But Xiaoying forcefully pulled her foot back, put on her shoe, and pressed her lips together: “Grand Prince, you’ve returned!”

Feng Yuan slowly rose, his tall frame towering over Xiaoying’s petite figure like a mountain, the battlefield aura soaked into him, steaming in the rainy mist.

Xiaoying steadied herself, trying hard to hold her oil-paper umbrella over Feng Yuan’s head, but Feng Yuan was too tall, and she struggled to reach.

“I heard you were injured. Why aren’t you recuperating in the military camp? Is it serious?”

Feng Yuan took the umbrella and held it over the lady’s head, his blood-stained brow showing barely perceptible fatigue: “You said that when the battle ended, we should return immediately, not to let those who remain behind worry…”

Xiaoying had indeed said that, but she had been speaking to her foster father and the others, not instructing Feng Yuan.

At another time, perhaps she would have loudly teased Feng Yuan for his presumption.

But now, looking at this man with exhausted eyes, covered in blood and rain, who had returned in haste through the night rain, Xiaoying only said softly: “You must be tired. Go take a bath first, and I’ll have the cook prepare some hot soup and rice for you.”

After speaking, she turned to leave, but Feng Yuan grabbed her wrist, as if not wanting her to go.

“Alright, if you don’t want to eat, I’ll get medicine. After you bathe, I’ll apply it for you.” Xiaoying hadn’t used such a child-soothing tone with Feng Yuan for a long time.

Previously, at the abandoned palace, she had often spoken to A’Yuan this way.

But later, to prove himself and no longer be looked down upon by her, Feng Yuan had forcefully subdued her in the abandoned palace.

Since then, Xiaoying had never again spoken to him in this manner.

Hearing it now, Feng Yuan didn’t feel humiliated but rather a touch of joy: she seemed less angry than on the day they had parted.

It was now late at night, and everyone else was asleep. The garden was completely silent, with only Feng Yuan’s room still lit by a dim lamp.

After changing two large tubs of water, Feng Yuan had finally washed himself clean, changed into a loose robe, and sat on the mat with his long hair loose.

Feng Yuan was indeed injured again, this time in the thigh.

He said it happened while pursuing Gu Zhi, when he was hit by a stray arrow.

He had ridden back through the rain, and the wound had worsened.

Unlike other women who might gasp in fear at the sight of a wound, Xiaoying had no such reaction.

She merely looked at it and began preparing to treat his wound.

During this process, she first drank a cup of strong liquor to test for poison, then poured one for him: “Drink this first, so it won’t hurt too much later!”

Seeing Feng Yuan resist drinking, she simply reached out and placed it at his lips, half-forcing it into his mouth.

The spicy liquid slid down his throat, and before he could speak, the next moment brought pain to his leg.

The woman took a small knife that had been sterilized with burning alcohol and skillfully cut away the necrotic flesh, then applied medicine to stop the bleeding and bandaged it. Her movements were fluid, and her hands didn’t tremble once.

After finishing the bandaging, Xiaoying moved to undo his robe to check if he had injuries elsewhere.

Feng Yuan put his hand over her nimble fingers, his eyes slightly widened from the strong liquor, steadying his breath as he looked at her: “Do you usually treat others’ wounds like this?”

Xiaoying nodded: “Practice makes perfect. Don’t I bandage well? My father and foster father, whenever they’re injured, I’m the one who bandages them…”

“You must have been young before. Weren’t you afraid?”

“At first, I was afraid. Looking at the wounds, I would involuntarily imagine how my father and foster father got injured, and then I couldn’t sleep at night… But what I feared wasn’t the bloody wounds, but not being able to live and die with them, fighting side by side. The feeling of waiting is the most hateful—unable to control variables, whether sad or happy, all determined by heaven, then presented by others, powerless to change fate…”

Perhaps it was the soft rain melting her heart, or the strong liquor loosening her mind, but in the flickering lamplight, Xiaoying spoke a little more than usual.

She had never liked being a weak woman seeking shelter behind men, nor had she liked being left behind to guard the home like the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled.

The King of Hell, Yan Luowang, controlled the cycle of life and death, struggling for even the slightest advantage against the crushing pressure of heavenly principles.

But now, the mask she had forged for so long had been mercilessly stripped away and crushed by this other man who controlled life and death, imprisoned once more in the rear, like in her frail childhood, standing at the doorway, futilely gazing and waiting again and again…

Feng Yuan, seeing Xiaoying seemingly lost in melancholic memories, reached out to comfort her by touching her face, but then withdrew, explaining with difficulty: “Keeping you here wasn’t because I looked down on you… But on the battlefield, once a woman is captured, it’s far worse than for a man…”

He didn’t continue beyond this.

Because it touched on a scar he was unwilling to face, regarding what had happened to his mother.

Looking at Xiaoying’s face, as pure as the bright moon, he suddenly seemed to make some kind of decision and finally said: “Anyway, I understand now. Next time… I won’t leave you behind alone.”

Xiaoying raised her eyes in surprise, looking at Feng Yuan.

Was he apologizing to her in another way? If so, then her earlier pettiness seemed excessive.

Thinking of this, Xiaoying pulled a thickened, bright red safety cord from her sleeve, took his large hand, and tied the copper-coin-adorned cord around his wrist.