Feng Yuan looked at the “twenty-five” and couldn’t help but sneer mockingly.

According to the twelve-year agreement, this letter should have been handed to him only when he was preparing to “emerge from seclusion.”

Unfolding the yellowed, brittle paper, Feng Yuan first checked the date at the bottom of the letter. It was written exactly one month before his mother passed away.

The cheerful young woman portrayed in her travel journals had undergone a tremendous change, worn down by the unpredictable sufferings of illness and life.

Every word and sentence in the letter expressed bitter resentment.

The letter mentioned again that her capture was due to Chen Nuo’s deliberate delay in sending reinforcements, and the mastermind behind Chen Nuo’s actions was none other than Princess Anqing! Anqing still harbored feelings for the Ninth Prince, now Emperor Chunde, and had developed a twisted scheme to harm both her and Mu Shen.

If she were gone, Anqing could use her status as a widow to remarry the Ninth Prince, allowing the Feng family bloodline in her womb to rightfully claim its ancestral heritage.

Unfortunately for the venomous woman, heaven did not grant her wish. She, Ye Zhanxue, lived bearing a tarnished name, enduring humiliation to survive.

And Mu Shen had also fortunately escaped the trap set by Anqing, though he was left with injuries all over his body and bedridden with illness.

With the poisonous woman’s scheme failing, and the Ninth Prince valuing his reputation and his brotherly bond with Mu Shen more than acknowledging the indiscretion with his sworn sister Anqing after they had been drinking, he refused to admit to their impropriety.

From then on, Anqing harbored deep hatred and even conspired with Consort Shang to falsely claim that her full-term child was premature.

What should have been blamed on that pair of immoral lovers ended up being shouldered by her and her newborn infant.

She knew her life was coming to an end, but her hatred would linger on! If he still considered himself a man, he should avenge her by killing her enemies with his own hands to settle this hatred, and then he would no longer owe her anything!

Feng Yuan’s expression darkened as if he had fallen into a deep well. Meanwhile, Fan Shiqi, enduring his pain, observed Feng Yuan’s expression and spoke at an opportune moment: “You must be angry because our master has shifted to supporting the Second Prince. Our master’s feelings toward you and the Second Prince are completely different. You are Ye Wang妃’s blood, the young master our master truly cares about. That Second Prince is merely a temporary pawn used by our master.”

He had thought that Feng Yuan, feeling neglected for so long, must have been in low spirits, which led him to act like a madman on the street, tormenting the Tang family’s illegitimate son and his entire family.

His master had calculated the timing perfectly, sending him with Ye Zhanxue’s handwritten letter to test the waters.

During this period, Feng Yuan must have realized that without his master’s support, he would struggle to make any progress at court.

Once his spirit was crushed, he would be easier to control.

Unexpectedly, Feng Yuan was so unteachable, immediately crippling both his legs.

But remembering his master’s orders, Fan Shiqi gritted his teeth and continued: “Now that Princess Anqing has taken over the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards from Young Master Mu, it may be even more difficult for Your Highness to deal with her.”

Seeing Feng Yuan’s expression, Fan Shiqi carefully provoked him: “Of course, your life now is quite comfortable – enfeoffed as a prince with your residence, and even taking a beautiful concubine. You could just live out your days as a carefree prince… As for Ye Wang妃, since she’s already deceased, you don’t need to—Ah!”

Before he could finish, Feng Yuan suddenly reached out again, and with two crisp snaps, broke both his arms.

Now, all four of Fan Shiqi’s limbs were twisted and deformed, the tendons and bones completely shattered, a horrifying sight!

Feng Yuan didn’t even glance at Fan Shiqi as he coldly said: “I’m leaving you with a functioning mouth so you can deliver a message to your master. If he wants to negotiate terms, he should come see me personally. A worthless nobody like you is not qualified to speak with me!”

In the past, after each interaction with his master’s people, Feng Yuan would sink into self-abandonment for extended periods.

Because that master always deliberately reminded him that his birth was the source of all his mother’s suffering, causing her to fall into an irredeemable abyss.

Therefore, when Xiaoying previously doubted the authenticity of the blood-stained letter with its blurred handwriting, Feng Yuan harbored a glimmer of hope.

He hoped the letter was fake, and that his mother’s bitter resentment toward him in those lines was also false.

But today’s yellowed letter had completely shattered that hope.

He had seen his mother’s letters at his Third Grandfather’s place, and the handwriting matched perfectly with this yellowed letter.

So it was true that his mother had been framed, and in the final stages of her life, she was full of regret and hatred because she had given birth to an unblessed child. Her expectations for him were merely as a weapon for revenge, and wasn’t the twenty-five-year limit an indication that even his long imprisonment was training ordained by his mother?

Whatever role his master played in all this was no longer important.

What mattered was whether he, an unwanted child, could live up to the life his mother had fought to give him by crushing those who had wronged her into bloody sacrifices to present at her grave!

The cold, detached words in the letter made him uncomfortable. He needed to find a place to calm down.

That night, Xiaoying waited for Feng Yuan to return for dinner as usual.

But after waiting for a long time, he still hadn’t returned.

Just as Xiaoying couldn’t resist putting on her veil to go out and look for him, Feng Yuan suddenly returned reeking of alcohol.

A man who never drank had consumed an unknown amount somewhere. Though he wasn’t staggering when he walked, his entire demeanor was different from usual.

When he looked at people, his eyes were bloodshot.

Xiaoying anxiously went to meet him, taking his hand: “Why have you been drinking? What happened?”

In his hazy, drunken state, Feng Yuan lowered his gaze to stare hungrily at Xiaoying. The girl before him was the best dream he’d had in this lifetime.

Laughably, he had taken the dream for reality, believing that if he just tried hard enough, he could keep her by his side forever.

He had also tried to believe that the letter was fake. He could follow Xiaoying’s advice and take a gentler approach, gradually gaining control of power to avenge his mother and redress her wrongs.

But today’s final letter from his mother had ruthlessly torn apart all these hopes.

That master had sinister intentions, but one thing he said was right.

His mother’s soul still wandered the deep abyss of the Forgotten River, unable to enter the cycle of reincarnation. What right did he have to hide in this paradise, evading the original sin he had carried since birth?

Ten years of imprisonment and suffering surged through his mind.

“Yuan” meant both “injustice” and “resentment” – his given name was a blood-filled abyss he could never climb out of!

But did he have the heart to hold onto this girl, pulling her down with him on this path of no return?

All along, he had been deceiving himself, selfishly finding excuses about helping secure pardons for her adoptive father to keep her by his side with good justification.

Yet now, the more she cared for him, the more reluctant he was to let her go.

The hardships she had endured since childhood were no less than his own.

From infancy, she had suffered persecution by the Tang family, been thrown into the cold river waters, then wandered the streets with her father, enduring countless cold stares and hardships, and later became entangled in Meng Zhun’s family massacre.

Now, Xiaoying had finally escaped her suffering, rescued her brother, and cleared her adoptive father’s name. Going forward, she could live peacefully with the family she loved.

What right did he have, out of his selfish desire for her, to drag her back into endless bloodshed?

He had been too greedy!

Thinking this, he suddenly pulled the girl into his arms, fiercely claiming her soft lips, forcing them apart, and continuing to take and entangle without allowing her to retreat.

Xiaoying felt as if she was being devoured by a beast. Although Feng Yuan often couldn’t resist kissing her, he rarely lost control so roughly.

While gentle kisses were certainly nice, this wild, dominant kiss was actually… more to her liking.

She had never been an ordinary, sheltered lady who needed to be treated with delicate care like a fragile flower. This bandit-like behavior excited her passion more.

She had originally thought he would embrace her and carry her to bed as usual after their kiss, but today’s Feng Yuan was truly different from normal.

This kiss came suddenly and ended just as abruptly.

Just as Xiaoying was deeply engaged in the kiss, her slender arms wrapped around his neck, he suddenly pulled her away like a lamb torn from its mother’s teat, then looked at her with an incredibly complex expression.

“Your adoptive father has been urging me to let you leave the residence. He wants to take you back to Jiangzhe. I’ve already ordered people to prepare horses, carriages, and guards. Tomorrow… I’ll send you all away.”

Xiaoying, completely unprepared, half-glared and asked: “Tomorrow?”

Feng Yuan silently nodded.

He had drunk plenty today, three large jars, enough to numb himself so he could coldly and firmly make this arrangement.

After speaking, he turned to leave, needing only to find a secluded place to lock himself away and quietly wait for Xiaoying to depart.

But when had Yan Xiaoying ever been someone who came and went at others’ bidding?

“Stop right there!” With these full-throated words, Xiaoying grabbed his arm.

“Tell me exactly what happened. Otherwise, I’m not going anywhere!”

Unfortunately, the alcohol was taking effect on Feng Yuan, and like a clam full of water, he closed his eyes and refused to speak, shaking off Xiaoying before returning to his room and collapsing on the bed.

No matter. Xiaoying had her ways.

She spun out like a small whirlwind and cornered Shen Jing at the stables.

“Tell me, what did His Highness do today?”

Shen Jing was honest and recounted Feng Yuan’s activities for the day.

When she heard that he had met someone at a teahouse, Xiaoying immediately knew that the root of today’s problem lay with that person.

Shen Jing mentioned that the person spoke with an unusually hoarse voice, and Xiaoying immediately guessed it might be Fan Shiqi.

Now she understood why his temperament had changed so drastically. It seemed the insect-poison cultivator had released some toxin to disturb the mind of the great poisonous insect he had been nurturing for ten years!

Having figured this out, Xiaoying fetched a bucket of ice-cold well water, carried it to Feng Yuan’s bedchamber, and dumped it over the person lying on the bed.

Feng Yuan, shocked by the freezing water, sat up immediately and stared directly at Xiaoying.

Xiaoying wasn’t afraid of the mad prince’s glare – when the Little King of Hell went mad, even the true King of Hell would tremble.

She threw the empty bucket at Feng Yuan and said, “Tell me quickly, what poison did Fan Shiqi release this time? Stop being so evasive!”

The dousing had sobered Feng Yuan considerably, and the sealed clam finally opened. He pointed to the desk where a yellowed letter lay.

Xiaoying walked over, took out the letter, and quickly scanned it, her brow furrowing more with each line.

As an expert in forgery, her first instinct was: “Could this letter be written in a forged hand?”

Feng Yuan wiped the water from his face and walked behind the screen to change clothes: “I’ve checked. This letter’s handwriting matches my mother’s old letters kept by my Third Grandfather. It can’t be fake.”

Xiaoying read the letter again. The sharp wording showed no trace of a mother’s tenderness for her son; it was as if she were directing a sharp, useful blade.

No wonder Feng Yuan had been so disturbed.

She knew Feng Yuan too well. What pained him most wasn’t just his mother’s fate, but realizing that his mother didn’t love him – she had only used him as a tool for revenge.

And he couldn’t escape the blood curse and mental demons; even in death, he would fulfill his mother’s last wish…

Not being party to this twisted mother-son relationship, Xiaoying was much calmer than Feng Yuan. She stopped reading the content and instead examined the front and back of the letter paper.

The paper was quite old. Though yellowed and aged, it was Yunjianzhai’s Wood Fu letter paper from Jiangzhe, costing three taels of silver per stack.

When Feng Yuan was in Jiangzhe, he had also bought many sheets for writing and inscriptions. This type of store maintained the same specifications for its paper over the decades.

Xiaoying casually took a sheet of paper from Feng Yuan’s desk to compare sizes.

Upon comparison, she discovered that this old letter was shorter by the width of a copper coin.

Xiaoying carefully examined the top of the paper and noticed traces of a recent cut…

Just then, Feng Yuan, having changed his clothes, came over and saw her careful comparison. He also came to look.

“The letterhead has been cut off, so there’s no usual salutation at the beginning,” Xiaoying concluded after her examination.

Feng Yuan said nothing, but turned to look at the envelope.

The “To my son Yuan, to be opened at twenty-five” written on it was undoubtedly in Ye Zhanxue’s hand.

So whether or not there was a salutation in the letter didn’t matter.

Xiaoying pinched the letter paper, looking at it repeatedly, when suddenly an idea came to her: “What if this letter wasn’t written to you, but someone cut off the heading, switched the envelope, and put it in the envelope that Ye Wang妃 left for you? Wouldn’t that explain everything?”

But Feng Yuan found such explanations futile and meaningless.

“Why are you so desperately searching for clues? What are you trying to prove? My mother’s ordeal was indeed caused by that old beast Feng Qishu and Anqing, isn’t that enough? Must you force yourself to prove that my mother loved this untimely born child?”

Xiaoying gripped his collar with one hand, somewhat roughly: “From your earliest memories, she was no longer by your side. Whether she loved you enough to give birth to you, or hated the Emperor so much that she bore you as a tool for revenge, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you, Feng Yuan, are not unloved! The person I love is you, and no matter what you do now or in the future, that won’t change! So… why are you acting so crazy? And trying to drive me away? Rest assured, when I want to leave, you won’t be able to stop me!”

Feng Yuan’s breath suddenly tightened.

Xiaoying had said so much, but he had caught what mattered most – the girl said she loved him!

Hearing this, he breathed carefully and slowly embraced Xiaoying: “Say that again…”

“Rest assured, when I want to leave, you won’t be able to stop me!”

“Not that part!” Feng Yuan’s voice was tense, showing a hint of impatience.

Xiaoying blinked her eyelashes, suddenly realizing what she had just blurted out.

But to her, admitting she loved Feng Yuan wasn’t something shameful, so she frankly repeated: “Fine, I love you to death. You’re not some pitiful creature nobody wants, so rein in your madness and have dinner with me, alright? You may have filled your stomach with alcohol, but I’ve been waiting for you with an empty stomach!”

Feng Yuan’s gaze darkened slightly. She had spoken too casually, making it sound more like pacifying flattery.

This girl was known for her casual lies, as he well knew… But being thus confounded by Xiaoying, the low spirits triggered by his mother’s letter had been scattered by Xiaoying’s bucket of cold water and scolding.

Hearing the gurgling sounds from Xiaoying’s stomach, Feng Yuan sobered up.

Xiaoying complained that the prince’s residence kitchen maids didn’t cook well, so Feng Yuan personally went to the kitchen, just as he had in their small house in Yonghe Lane, picking vegetables, cutting meat, and even making sausage fried rice with cold rice for her.

He had only drunk outside but hadn’t eaten either, so the two sat face to face, heads close together, finishing their dinner.

After eating, Xiaoying took out an invitation card and handed it to Feng Yuan: “That master of yours knows how to time things. Did he somehow predict Princess Anqing would be hosting a banquet, so he planted this poison in you first?”

In five days, it would be Princess Anqing’s birthday celebration. It was said that normally this princess didn’t enjoy extravagant displays, but for some reason, she planned to host a grand event this year.

Feng Yuan looked at the invitation card and suddenly asked: “Who delivered this card?”

Xiaoying observed his expression and casually replied: “Young Master Mu…”

Feng Yuan raised his eyes to look at her: “He came personally? Just to deliver an invitation?”

Xiaoying nodded. She also wondered why Mu Hanjiang would come personally.

Especially since the doorkeeper had informed him that the Grand Prince was out, yet he still insisted on personally delivering the invitation card into Lady Ying’s hand.

Such behavior – insisting on seeing the lady of the house when the master was away – was clearly against propriety.

Xiaoying was bored being confined in the residence and curious about what Mu Hanjiang wanted. She also hoped to extract information about Fu Ansheng’s recent situation from him, so she generously invited him into the inner courtyard for a chat.

Feng Yuan’s handsome face tensed extremely: “You… invited him into the inner courtyard?”

Xiaoying was quite forthright: “You’re not treating me as your concubine, are you? Since the courtyard was given to me to live in, why differentiate between the ladies’ quarters and the inner courtyard? If I didn’t invite him in, should I have drunk tea with him in the outer courtyard, exposing myself in public?”

What a joke – what kind of concubine was she? One that the Grand Prince Feng could drive away at will!

Since he planned to have no more entanglements with her, what would it matter if she invited Young Master Mu to sit on her bed?

Feng Yuan always knew how to grasp the key points. His voice grew even colder: “So you also drank tea with him?”

“Yes, he seemed very thirsty and drank for a full hour before leaving.”

“A full hour?” Feng Yuan’s words were now squeezed through clenched teeth.

“Can’t you hear what I’m saying? Must you repeat every sentence?” Xiaoying found Feng Yuan’s jealousy rather adorable and deliberately propped her face on her hand, raising an eyebrow as she asked.

Feng Yuan said coldly: “I don’t like him, as you well know.”

“I know, he’s your half-brother from the same father, and your hatred runs too deep to coexist under the same sky. But you should also know that who I associate with doesn’t mean I share your grudges and favors!”

Although Xiaoying often spun tales, she never lied to those close to her.

Feng Yuan hated everyone in the Feng family and would like nothing better than to kill them all, but that didn’t mean Xiaoying had to take the same stance.

She only loved Feng Yuan but was unwilling to become his appendage, sharing his every emotional vendetta. This point needed to be made clear to her lover.

Feng Yuan understood Xiaoying’s meaning.

By all accounts, Xiaoying had known Mu Hanjiang first, and he was a refined gentleman who knew how to please ladies. So it was perfectly normal for Yan Xiaoying to have a good impression of Mu Hanjiang.

And as for Mu Hanjiang’s feelings toward the “Crown Prince,” needless to say, this usually rule-abiding man had even shouldered the blame for instigating war with Wei Country just to protect the “Crown Prince.”

If one were to judge these two’s relationship independently, it would be a beautiful tale of loyalty between ruler and subject worthy of historical record.

But Mu Hanjiang wasn’t certain that Xiaoying was the Crown Prince! What kind of relationship warranted such familiarity with his concubine?

Was the invitation card a declaration of war between two countries? Did he have to deliver it personally to Xiaoying?

A full hour? What could this elegant, unmarried gentleman have so much to discuss with a prince’s concubine?

The surge of jealousy kept rising, once again pickling his low spirits brought on by his mother’s yellowed letter.

Xiaoying couldn’t be bothered to continue feeding Feng Yuan’s jealousy, merely tapping the invitation card: “Your master is so kind to give you the letter two years early, and coincidentally, Princess Anqing is hosting her birthday celebration. This banquet must be a trap. Will you go or not?”