Xuan Yi struggled with all her might, but his hands were like iron clamps, completely immovable. She suddenly raised her head and shouted fiercely, “Let go!”

Fucang Shenjun looked at her for a long while—this face, this goddess, her cold and distant gaze. He had already been extremely cautious, extremely careful, yet he had still fallen into her trap. The hostility and malice he had locked away in the deepest part of his heart surged out uncontrollably like a broken dam. The moment before, he had wanted to hold her tightly, but at this very moment, he only wanted to tear her apart.

If only he truly could tear her apart.

Fucang Shenjun looked at her pale face and suddenly released her. Xuan Yi tumbled onto Bi Xi’s back, gasping for a while before suddenly jumping up to strike him—when had she ever been treated so roughly by anyone! Only him! From beginning to end, only this bastard!

Her resistance was instantly suppressed by him, both her hands pressed against the stone tablet, unable to move.

The sudden intimacy, the ambiguous attitude of being close yet distant, entangling him yet pushing him away, flirting ambiguously with others before treating him with the same attitude. He had originally thought she had a childish temperament, but he was wrong. She trusted no one, quietly drawing close, coldly observing him become utterly infatuated with her, using this to dispel her endless emptiness and loneliness.

Xuan Yi’s slightly cool breath sprayed against his chin. He understood her malicious nature all too well—she was surely waiting for an opportunity to bite him.

The impulsive feelings from that drunken night at Zhu Xuanyu Yang Palace boiled in his blood. Fucang Shenjun once again quickly released his hands and retreated several steps.

He would never again let the situation fall into such absurd ambiguity.

“To dispel your emptiness, you should go find someone as depraved as you are.”

His voice was cold as ice and piercing as a blade. After speaking, he turned and left. The wind at the mountain peak ruffled his sleeves. He stared at the damaged dark silver thread embroidery on his sleeve—everything had only just begun, he only needed to cut it off.

Fucang Shenjun’s brow furrowed as he resolutely tore off that section of long sleeve, letting the wind carry it far away.

*

Since the princess had been summoned back to Mingxing Hall by a letter from Baize Dijun, Qi Nan had returned to his usual quiet and busy life.

However, busy as he was, the princess and Fucang Shenjun’s relationship was growing increasingly close, and Xiaolong Jun’s cultivation had entered a new realm. It seemed many things were developing in a good direction. Qi Nan happily took a sip of tea—even if he was a bit busier, it was no problem.

Outside, there was suddenly a commotion, immediately followed by divine officials loudly announcing, “The princess has returned! Quickly bring out the rattan bed!”

Back so soon? Qi Nan hurriedly put down his brush and rushed out of the front hall. Sure enough, after a moment, he saw divine servants carrying the rattan bed up the steps. His little princess was lounging on the bed, holding something bloody in her hand, turning it over and over to examine it.

Qi Nan was startled and stepped forward to snatch it away, only then discovering it was a blood-red feathered satin. The embroidery work was exquisite and extraordinary, with threads of fresh blood seeming to congeal yet not congeal on the auspicious feathers, carrying a kind of bloody brilliance that was quite eye-catching.

“Cuckoo blood-red feathered satin?” Qi Nan was well-informed and immediately recognized this extremely precious fabric, instantly astonished. “Where did the princess get this from?”

Xuan Yi smiled as she took back the feathered satin and said, “I asked Ziyuan the Weaver to help make it. When I went, the cuckoo happened to be coughing up blood and sprayed quite a lot onto the satin. It was rather frightening.”

“Ziyuan the Weaver? The princess went to the Three Lives Stone?” Qi Nan was completely confused. “How did you know the way? This cuckoo blood-red feathered satin requires auspicious feathers—how could Ziyuan the Weaver give away something so rare?”

Xuan Yi waved her hand. “It was for teacher’s assignment. I also obtained tail fur from the ninth princess of the Celestial Fox clan.”

She pulled out three strands of tail fur that danced in the absence of wind and waved them around, quite pleased with herself.

Qi Nan was so astonished he nearly jumped up. “You also went to the Southern Wilderness Qingqiu?!” How on earth did his princess, who never left the house, know the way?

Xuan Yi looked at him with a smile, then suddenly waved her hand to dismiss the divine servants. She sat cross-legged and said, “Qi Nan, I have another matter to ask you about. When I was young and injured by the Tongshan clan, how did I recover afterward?”

Qi Nan was greatly shocked again. He had been frightened too many times today by the princess, and his old heart couldn’t take it. His legs went weak and he collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

“Princess… how did you find out?” From the time of injury to recovery, she had clearly forgotten everything.

Xuan Yi didn’t answer, only said flatly, “I remember Mother took me away. She said she wanted to return to Cuihe, to take me to see the places she liked to visit when she was young. Halfway there, we encountered the third princess of Tongshan with a group of her clansmen. They captured us and imprisoned us on Tongshan for several days. Every day, Mother was forced to agree to leave Father. She never agreed even once, so each time she was beaten until covered in injuries…”

“Princess!” Qi Nan called out to her softly, his expression anguished. “Please, don’t say anymore.”

She continued as if she hadn’t heard, “Later, the Tongshan clan people thought to use me as leverage. Mother desperately protected me and perished there. I don’t remember what happened after that. When I woke up, I was in Zhongshan, not looking like I had been injured at all. I’m asking you—how severe were my injuries? Who saved me?”

Qi Nan’s old tears streamed down his face. “At that time, Princess… your injuries were extremely severe. Dijun and I went everywhere, from the Thirty-Three Heavens above to the Nine Springs of the Yellow Underworld below—we ran to every place but couldn’t find a way to heal the princess. They all said the Zhuyin Clan was invincible by nature with no use for ten thousand methods, but who could understand that this also meant losing one’s life was extremely easy? Later… later…”

As he spoke, a confused expression appeared on his face as well. “Later, the princess’s injuries showed improvement overnight. Day by day, she visibly got better. It’s just that after waking, she had forgotten about being injured—perhaps it was too painful, but forgetting was actually better.”

Xuan Yi stared at him. “Suddenly got better?”

Qi Nan nodded. “Indeed so. Perhaps it was Madam’s remaining divine consciousness protecting the princess.”

Xuan Yi was silent for a moment, then lifted her skirt and unwrapped the white cloth binding her right leg. “Qi Nan, look at my injury.”

He looked at the nearly completely healed skin and gasped, “… It healed so quickly!”

Seeing his surprised expression that didn’t seem fake, Xuan Yi smiled and wrapped the white cloth back around, lowering her skirt. “This must also be Mother’s divine consciousness protecting me. Qi Nan, although I don’t know martial arts or swordsmanship, my injuries heal quickly—doesn’t that count as exceptional talent?”

She clapped her hands, and the divine servants who had retreated immediately came forward to lift the rattan bed. Qi Nan was about to follow, but heard her say flatly, “I’m tired and need to sleep well. Don’t disturb me.”

Qi Nan deeply understood her temperament. Usually when she used this tone, it meant she was in an extremely bad mood and didn’t wish to be disturbed by anyone or anything. He could only stop in his tracks, watching helplessly as the princess on the rattan bed grew more and more distant.

After happily bathing in her own home, Xuan Yi wore a loose robe and reclined on a spring couch padded with brocade cushions to dry her hair, habitually pulling out a ball of white snow. The spotlessly pure white somehow made her think of that white-robed figure.

Later, she had transformed into her dragon form to fly to Ziyuan the Weaver’s residence, hiding and dodging all the way, terrified of being spotted in dragon form by other divine clans. Fortunately, everything went quite smoothly—she successfully obtained the cuckoo blood-red feathered satin and successfully returned to Zhongshan.

It truly was better to stay in Zhongshan. Here, there was no Shenjun who suddenly grabbed her neck or shoulders, nor was there a Shenjun whose eyes held a tenderness she avoided like snakes and scorpions.

She probably… really just missed Qing Yan too much and momentarily forgot what a terrifying and detestable brute Fucang was.

Couldn’t he just quietly accompany her like this?

The wind rustled through the Imperial Mulberry Tree, its leaves rustling loudly. Xuan Yi put away the white snow, turned over, and the golden bracelet from her other sleeve gently fell to the ground. She picked it up and played with it in her hand.

They had both left her again. It didn’t matter—she still had Qi Nan and Mother’s golden bracelet.