Rain had fallen a few days ago, leaving the harbor muddy everywhere. The man rushed over like that, kneeling heedlessly in the mud and water. His knees hit the ground heavily, splashing mud in all directions. The dull sound startled Feng Zhiwei.

Suddenly, a suffocating unease rose from the depths of her heart, sweeping away the recent clarity like dark clouds. She looked down at the man with ordinary features, sensing from Gu Nanyi’s reaction that this seemed to be someone from his organization.

With no one around, her fast ship had traveled day and night to arrive. The local government hadn’t yet received word to come greet them. In the distance, soldiers were disembarking in an orderly fashion under Chunyu Meng’s command. Hua Qiong had already taken the child and moved far away.

“Speak.” Feng Zhiwei took a deep breath, helped the man up, and said flatly.

The man’s expression showed shame and panic as he said urgently, “Please, Miss, don’t wait to travel with Prince Chu any longer. Leave immediately with us!”

“Leave? Go where?” Feng Zhiwei frowned.

“We subordinates have made arrangements.”

Hearing the word “subordinates,” Feng Zhiwei frowned again.

Then she said flatly, “Sir, you’ve traveled far and worked hard. There’s a local postal station ahead. I’ll have someone arrange for you to rest. I still need to arrange for the soldiers to return to camp—I won’t keep you company.”

With that, she turned to leave.

“Miss!”

Feng Zhiwei acted as if she hadn’t heard.

The man looked anxiously at her retreating back, then at Gu Nanyi. Gu Nanyi never concerned himself with such matters. His business was simple—stay with Feng Zhiwei. When Feng Zhiwei turned, he turned too.

Helpless, the man rushed forward a step, opening his mouth to speak. Remembering the Chief Commander’s instructions before he left, he hesitated and stopped.

“Though the Miss is decisive and ruthless, her heart actually values relationships deeply. Once she knows the full story of this matter, she will surely risk danger. Originally you could directly contact the Sect Master and have him take the Miss away, but unfortunately the Sect Master has recently seemed to change somewhat because of the Miss. I’m afraid you won’t be able to persuade him either… But we absolutely cannot let the Miss travel with Prince Chu again… Forget it, handle it as the situation demands…”

Wrong either way, the gray-clothed man stood frozen in place. Watching Feng Zhiwei walk further and further away, truly not looking back, in his anxiety he rushed forward.

“Miss!”

In Nanhai’s twelfth month, the nights were still bone-chillingly cold. The cold wind carrying moisture was even harder to endure than the North’s dry, fierce winds. When those air currents seemingly condensed with ice beads swept over the horse, one felt even one’s hair would freeze.

The crisp horse whip extended and fell with extreme frequency, forming a continuous sheet of light and shadow. One could imagine the rider’s burning anxiety, no longer caring about sparing the beloved horse.

The rider was Feng Zhiwei.

She urged her horse forward rapidly, her long black hair streaming behind like a fierce banner in the wind. Gu Nanyi, Hua Qiong, and others pursued behind, maintaining their distance. Feng Zhiwei didn’t look back. Whether they caught up or not, she no longer cared.

In her ears were only the howling wind, the rainfall-like sound of hoofbeats, and the gray-clothed man’s words spoken in utter helplessness.

“Miss, some time ago when you left the capital, the Golden Plume Guards responsible for investigating former dynasty remnant cases had already turned their attention to you. The Chief Commander stayed in the Imperial Capital to manage the situation and dared not leave. Who knew you would fall gravely ill, forcing the Chief Commander to leave the capital for Nanhai. Right at that time, some changes occurred. Now our undercover agents have learned that the Golden Plume Guards have already reported to the Emperor and may soon move against you. But the Golden Plume Guards currently don’t know you also have the identity of Wei Zhi, so the Chief Commander ordered this subordinate to notify you—under no circumstances should you walk into a trap. Please follow us subordinates to temporarily avoid this.”

“Former dynasty remnant case? What case?”

No answer. The gray-clothed man refused to speak further. But Feng Zhiwei knew the matter couldn’t be as lightly described as this. The Golden Plume Guards—Ning Yi had once mentioned this royal secret guard, specialized in the dynasty’s most important investigative affairs related to the imperial family and high treason cases. They were an invisible blade in Emperor Tiansheng’s hand. Once touched by this blade’s edge, how could the damage be merely to flesh and skin?

The Golden Plume Guards wielded great power and were fierce and ruthless. Once they acted, it meant family extermination. She was carefree outside, but Mother—what about Mother?

The gray-clothed man’s answer at that time chilled her from head to toe in an instant.

“Lady Feng is not easily dealt with—truly admirable.” He avoided her urgent gaze, looking down at his own toes, his voice growing lower and lower. “If we can safely survive this calamity, many things will become clear to you, Miss.”

These words sent her heart plunging into an abyss. She had no time to grab the person and ask about the ins and outs. She hastily grabbed some things and mounted her horse to return.

Before leaving, she hurriedly left a letter for Ning Yi, only saying she had urgent business and was returning to the capital first. The Imperial Commissioner’s entourage and such could be brought back by him on his return journey. Whether he was willing to cover for her or not, she couldn’t care about it anymore. If truly catastrophic trouble had occurred, how long could her Wei Zhi identity be maintained anyway? What use did she have for the Wei Zhi identity?

The Yan family’s best fast horses had been in the Qiyuan stables. She hastily took them all when rushing back. Now traveling day and night, changing horses but not riders, resting only two hours each day, eating even while riding—she couldn’t waste any precious time. That wasn’t time, it was life!

Nanhai, Longnan, Longxi, Jianghuai… traveling through four provinces along the way, countless people laboring in fields and strolling along roads had all seen a person in black on a black horse, raising billowing dust, flashing past like lightning.

Six days later, Jianghuai Circuit, closest to the Imperial Capital.

Night.

A fast horse flashed past the official road like lightning, the roadside green trees becoming a blur of light and shadow. The rider was covered in dust, color indistinguishable, lips cracked and scorched, covered with a layer of dark black ash. Her riding posture was swaying and about to fall. To avoid falling from exhaustion, she had wrapped the reins around her wrist, tied so tightly that her wrist was bruised and swollen blue-purple.

Not far ahead, she would cross the Jianghuai boundary. Further on would be the Imperial Capital.

The rider exhaled a long breath, slightly releasing the infinite exhaustion accumulated in her bones. But the horse’s momentum didn’t decrease at all, galloping madly into the darkness ahead.

Ahead, however, some figures suddenly appeared like ghosts, lined up in a row blocking the necessary passage.

The reins were pulled hard. The fine horse reared with a long neigh, its hooves kicking in midair before being forcibly reined down by the rider.

“Move aside.”

The rider’s voice was so hoarse it was almost indistinguishable, yet her tone was decisive and unchangeable.

The people ahead remained silent, standing motionless in place—silent and firm as reef rocks.

The rider only said two words before coughing softly. She raised her eyes slightly. In the dim moonlight, those misty eyes were full of bloodshot veins.

Slowly raising her long whip, gritting her teeth to endure the uncontrollable trembling of her arm this action brought, Feng Zhiwei said nothing, using her actions to express her immovability.

No one moved, no one spoke. Clearly, the other side was also very determined—if you want to pass, trample over our bodies.

Feng Zhiwei sneered coldly. The horizontally raised whip suddenly fell.

A long neigh rang out.

The fine horse surged up, all its muscles bulging. In an instant, its hooves flashed like lightning, drawing a black line, piercing toward the crowd!

“Retreat!”

A light shout. Over a dozen people retreated in trained unison, forming a semicircle.

“Release!”

Silver light flashed, like moonlight falling from the sky. Everyone instantly raised their hands together!

A sky-covering silver giant net, shimmering with dazzling water-light, fell directly down, instantly enveloping Feng Zhiwei—person and horse—entirely within the net.

“Shh—”

Almost simultaneously with the net’s descent, Feng Zhiwei, who had been sneering and charging through, the moment that word “release” was uttered, had already boldly drawn the blade prepared in her bosom.

As the net fell, she slashed horizontally. White light flashed, the giant net tore, and she burst straight through, instantly outside the net.

After bursting out, she neither expressed anger nor gratitude. She didn’t even turn her head, didn’t even look at all those who had intercepted her. Using her blade to support herself, she continued forward on foot.

The moment she landed, she staggered. Days on horseback had already jolted her muscles and bones until they seemed ready to fall apart. Landing now, the shaking made her whole body scream with crazy pain. She instantly bit through her lower lip.

Though her lower lip was bitten through, her steps didn’t slow. She dragged her blade, limping along, using a strange yet still rapid posture, continuing toward that direction.

At this moment, all her will remained only “return to the capital quickly.” Though tens of thousands block my way, I shall go. Though tens of thousands, none can stop me.

You can block my horse, but you cannot block my person. With the horse blocked, I still have legs!

The people who had blocked the horse, holding the net clasps in their hands, forgot all their movements, dumbly turning to watch that struggling woman, watching her covered in dust and dirt in complete disarray, watching her cracked lips and scorched tongue with bloodshot eyes, watching her crooked and askew body supporting itself, using a ridiculous yet tear-inducing strange posture, struggling forward on foot.

Watching the unstoppable persistence and determination exploding from her nearly frail body.

“Thud.”

A man released the net clasp in his hand.

“Thud, thud.” More people released their hands. The giant net fell to the ground.

The leader closed his eyes and sighed deeply. After a long while, gritting his teeth, he waved his hand.

The giant net was released. Someone silently went over, freed the trapped horse, and led it before Feng Zhiwei.

Feng Zhiwei stopped. After a long while, a glittering liquid splashed in her eyes, washing away some of the dust on her face, like a deep furrow.

The leader silently helped her mount the horse, placing fresh water skins and food bags by the horse’s side.

He wanted to say something but ultimately didn’t speak.

Another sound of rapid hoofbeats arose. Gu Nanyi, who had been pursuing relentlessly, arrived. He too was now quite disheveled. His usually immaculate, soft silk robe was black in one spot, yellow in another—its color long indistinguishable. The white gauze covering his face had also become yellow gauze.

The blocking people saw him and hastily saluted. But he didn’t even look, riding straight past Feng Zhiwei. He reached out to grab her, set her on his horse, then galloped away rapidly.

Those people were engulfed in the rising dust and smoke, watching their retreating figures disappear into the depths of the horizon. For a long time they couldn’t speak. After a while, the leader sighed and said, “Notify the brothers behind—no need to block anymore.”

“Yes.”

“Notify the Chief Commander…” The man’s tone was low. “The Miss’s determination cannot be changed by anyone… Ask him to prepare.”

“Yes!”

The seventh day.

Dust and smoke rose before the fast horse’s hooves like waves. At the end of the waves, the majestic city gates of the world’s Imperial Capital would soon come into view.

Turning past a low mountain, Feng Zhiwei knew that at the end of the road, those gates with people coming and going would appear. She exhaled a long breath, almost instantly going limp in Gu Nanyi’s arms.

Human potential truly was limitless. Three days ago she felt she would fall from her horse at any moment. Now she was still sitting properly on the horse—though to say sitting on the horse, she was actually only managing by leaning on Gu Nanyi.

Gu Nanyi had broken his rules all along this journey—never changing clothes, never pushing her away.

A normal fast horse’s half-month journey, they had completed in seven days.

Summoning her last bit of strength, she urged the horse forward.

But the sound of a flute arose.

The clear and ethereal flute, meandering through the mountains, as if descending from the clouds, carrying this golden wind and jade dew, thin clouds and sky water, piercing through the warp and weft of the wind, playing out endless desolate thoughts.

The melody began light and ethereal, gradually turning passionate. After several rounds of thunder, lightning, rising clouds and retreating rain, it suddenly transformed into rustling autumn rain—low, lingering, endlessly wandering.

The flute sound was somewhat familiar. Feng Zhiwei paused in shock and reined in her horse, listening carefully. The expression in her eyes changed, and she suddenly looked up.

Halfway up the low mountain, on a pine tree, a white-clothed figure leisurely played the flute.

Several months ago, outside the nameless ancient temple on Jiyang Mountain in Longxi, Feng Zhiwei had heard his flute in a life-or-death desperate situation.

One tune: Dreams of Rivers and Mountains—dreams broken, rivers and mountains.

Several months later, on an unnamed low mountain outside the Imperial Capital, he sat in white clothes like snow on a green pine, playing his flute to summon Feng Zhiwei, who had been frantically rushing back to the capital.

Zong Chen.

Feng Zhiwei listened to that desolate and lonely flute sound. For an instant, her heart felt weighed down by a heavy stone, sinking heavily in her blood. Though urgent as shooting stars, wishing she could sprout wings and fly immediately to the Imperial Capital, she suddenly felt her legs filled with lead, unable to lift her feet anymore.

Her heart pounded rapidly. Her fingers trembled continuously. Her lips quivered ceaselessly. The cracked wounds oozed pale red blood, yet she couldn’t utter a single word.

Zong Chen finished playing the tune. Holding the jade-green flute slanted in his palm, he leaned forward to look down at Feng Zhiwei.

At that moment his eyes were gentle and compassionate, carrying some deeply hidden melancholy and sorrow.

He looked at Feng Zhiwei, trembling more and more violently, and said calmly yet mournfully:

“Zhiwei, I’m sorry… too late.”

Time flowed backward, returning to seven days in the Imperial Capital.

Seven days ago.

At midnight, the imperial city gates were tightly closed, yet suddenly came the sound of whistling arrows, tearing through the imperial city’s night sky. Then the deep red gates opened with a boom. A rider galloped in—iron mace, crimson armor, golden plume at the waist—like a crimson-gold line shooting into the gates’ deep darkness.

That person didn’t head straight for the Golden Plume Guards’ inner office deep in the imperial city, but rushed toward the west of the imperial city, to the compilation office for the “Records of Tiansheng” in the outer court.

Someone awakened in the middle of the night was already waiting at the compilation office.

Heavy doors closed. Deep window, candle shadows. The crimson-armored, golden-plumed man hastily reported. The wide-sleeved man’s expression was grave.

Moments later, the crimson-armored, golden-plumed man withdrew.

The wide-sleeved man stepped out to the central courtyard, gazing distantly toward the south of Tiansheng. He stood wordlessly for a long time. The night was deep and dense, dew soaking his collar.

Six days ago.

A fire-sealed, absolutely secret letter from Fujian-Guangdong lay quietly on the desk of the compilation office’s Vice Chief.

A pair of well-maintained hands gently opened the envelope, extracting letter paper with only a few words but a decisive tone.

Just a few words, yet the reader looked at them for a very long time. After a long while, he sighed deeply and tossed the letter heavily aside.

He sat withered in his chair for a long time, brow deeply furrowed, expression hesitant and undecided.

On the desk was also a stack of similarly shaped letters. He pulled them out, reviewing them one by one. The more he read, the more his brow furrowed.

He suddenly stopped his hand.

One letter had slight wrinkles at the bottom. He thought for a moment, then used Golden Plume Guard secret medicine water to lightly soak the bottom layer. A line of characters quietly appeared.

“The Prince’s heart is already in chaos. This younger brother is very worried. Sir’s great talent will surely allow you to decide for yourself.”

Holding the letter paper, he contemplated in night’s boundless darkness.

Five days ago.

A group of gray-clothed people, their figures flashing and swaying, quietly swept through the night across layers of rooftops, entering a small courtyard in the Qiu Mansion’s rear compound.

Though those people landed lightly, the woman in the small room who had been tossing and turning sleepless all night immediately awakened, her gaze bright and piercing.

“Scratch.” The indoor lamp was lit.

The woman sat up clothed, her expression calm as she looked at the arrivals, carefully examining everyone for a while, as if comprehending something.

She slowly said, “That matter… has finally come?”

“Madam.” The gray-clothed person knelt on one knee. “You’ve worked hard for many years… The Chief Commander ordered us to come immediately and take you away.”

“For over ten years, you’ve finally appeared.” The Madam didn’t respond to their words, her expression slightly sighing. “I both hoped for your appearance and feared your appearance. Now, finally, the dust settles.”

“The Golden Plume Guards recently changed masters.” The gray-clothed person said with downcast eyes. “For over ten years, to evade their investigation, you, Madam, moved out from deep mountains, taking the young master into great hiding in the capital, great hiding at court. However, the opponent is truly formidable. Our undercover agents report that the opponent has already grasped conclusive evidence and will soon act. Please pack—we must leave immediately.”

The woman smiled serenely.

“Why should I leave?”

The gray-clothed person was stunned.

“If I leave, his dream will also come to nothing.” The Madam’s face was pale but her eyes bright. “I don’t care what differences of opinion exist within your organization. To me, what I must accomplish is his instruction—his life’s dream. I’ve already seen hope. Why should I abandon all previous efforts?”

“But…”

“So many years of preparation.” The Madam said. “Why waste it all for nothing?”

“Madam.” The gray-clothed person said in a deep voice. “This is a matter of life and death.”

“You’re right—life and death.” The Madam smiled strangely. “But some lives have always been prepared for sacrifice.”

The gray-clothed person fell silent. After a long while, he said with difficulty, “The Chief Commander feels it’s still too risky… The opponent…”

“Eternal foundations are sought in danger.” The Madam said flatly. “Your generation may value stability and imperial bloodline continuation more, but I remember better his unchanged expectation until death. A person like him never accepted failure in his life, yet suffered such a fate—nation collapsed, organization destroyed, pursued for thousands of miles, companions scattered, brothers dying before his eyes one by one… Finally suffering such devastating betrayal… He said nothing, but I know he hated. I know his deepest final wish—he wanted to see this dynasty’s death, just as this dynasty once watched his brothers die… This wish he couldn’t fulfill, and I, his widow, cannot fulfill either, but I believe someone can.”

“Madam!” The gray-clothed person urgently exclaimed. “You’ve already violated…”

“Don’t tell me about violating anyone.” The Madam proudly interrupted. “I’m not a member of your organization. I don’t bear your generations of transmitted tasks. To me, I only need to do my utmost to complete my late husband’s dying wish.”

The gray-clothed person fell silent, thinking of the previous generation’s Sect Master, that iron-blooded and unyielding man who lived only for one dream in his brief life, using his persistence to influence the woman before him, who also lived only for his obsession in her life.

“Don’t forget, your master received my teachings from childhood.” The Madam suddenly smiled. “Only I know most clearly what kind of person she truly is. Only I understand best under what kind of provocation your master will rise up decisively and walk the path I want her to walk.”

“The master may not be suited to walk such a path…”

“No, she’s suited.” The Madam’s eyes flashed, carrying some pride and some comfort. “Look at everything she’s done. Look at the sixteen-year-old Imperial Commissioner who overturned clouds and rain, shocking the world! She’s a natural-born sovereign, fallen into dust yet her radiance undimmed. Such a person, such noble and unsurpassable bloodline—are you willing to let her abandon her innate supreme gifts and mission, willing to be ordinary for life, marrying and bearing children under your protection in your care, becoming a penny-pinching village woman? Do you think this is worthy of her? Worthy of your previous generation’s Sect Master? Worthy of the Great Cheng imperial bloodline you’re forever loyal to?”

“This is the Chief Commander’s meaning.” The gray-clothed person was silent for a long time before answering. “He believes the previous Sovereign’s dying command was only to maintain the noble imperial bloodline’s continuation. As for changes of rivers and mountains, dynastic shifts—these are inevitable tidal forces through all dynasties. No need to mind too much. As long as the master is safe, nothing is worth sacrificing for.”

“Your Chief Commander inherited the previous generation’s elegant insouciance.” The Madam sneered coldly. “But I cannot. All these years, whenever I think of how lonely his departure was, think of him grasping my hand before death, wanting to say something but unable to speak—I know that for my entire life, there’s one thing I can never abandon.”

Her expression was resolute, her tone firm. Each word rang out like steel. The gray-clothed person stared at her blankly, knowing tonight the mission absolutely couldn’t be completed.

“This is your mother country…” After a long while, the gray-clothed person smiled bitterly. “I didn’t expect you would actually…”

“There’s no mother country or not. Tiansheng’s territory was also seized from Great Cheng. Strictly speaking, Tiansheng is also Great Cheng’s rebel minister.” The Madam said calmly. “I don’t care about this world. I only care about one person.”

The gray-clothed person spoke no more, quietly looking at this legendarily fiery-natured, firmly determined woman. He had thought those many years of hardship, humiliation, and weathering trials had long since polished this woman’s edge smooth and round. Never imagining when truly facing her, he would suddenly discover her complexion unchanged, sharper than in years past.

“That’s it then. I’m going to sleep.” The Madam spoke no more, extinguished the lamplight, and actually just lay down wrapped in bedding.

The gray-clothed person sighed, the sound dissipating in the heavy darkness.

“…Take care.”

Four days ago.

The Qiu Mansion fell into chaos—Madam Qiu suddenly fell gravely ill, collapsing at the bedroom door unable to speak, her limbs stiff and immobile. The Qiu Mansion repeatedly sent people to summon famous physicians. People came and went constantly in the inner and outer courtyards.

A certain small courtyard never noticed by anyone naturally attracted even less attention.

Early that morning, Lady Feng rose, washed and dressed as usual, tidied things in her room, then went to the small courtyard where she previously lived. After a while she emerged, finally going to Feng Zhiwei’s “Cuifang Studio.”

During the time Feng Zhiwei was away from the capital, Cuifang Studio’s main gate remained tightly closed. Externally, they claimed Feng Zhiwei “contracted smallpox.” Occasionally when Qiu Mansion people went to deliver things, they could see a woman with her face covered all day in the room, not seeing people. But from last night onward, this woman also disappeared. Only the Qiu Mansion had fallen into chaos—no one noticed.

Lady Feng drove straight into Cuifang Studio, searched in Feng Zhiwei’s bedroom for a while, and brought something out.

Then she went out, carrying a bundle, went to the Ministry of Justice, requesting to visit Feng Hao. After stuffing much silver, she was led into the Ministry of Justice’s prison.

Feng Hao had been confined in prison for a long time. Because Ning Yi had given instructions beforehand, he hadn’t suffered or been wronged, even gaining some weight. But he’d never been allowed to see anyone. Upon seeing Lady Feng appear, he immediately rushed over wildly, shaking the wooden bars until they thundered. “Mother! Mother!”

“My son.” Lady Feng squatted before the cell door, carefully and thoroughly looking at Feng Hao’s face, reaching in to gently stroke his disheveled hair.

“Mother, you came to take me out, right?” Feng Hao joyfully grabbed Lady Feng’s hand, his eyes bright as he stared into Lady Feng’s eyes. “Wonderful! I’ve had enough! Mother, all this time, why didn’t you come see me?”

Lady Feng didn’t avoid his expectant gaze. She looked at Feng Hao serenely, thoroughly and carefully, not missing an inch, as if wanting to deeply engrave everything about this child she’d raised for sixteen years into her eyes.

Her gaze was too strange. Even Feng Hao, sunk in wild joy, felt something was wrong. He gradually quieted down, staring blankly at his mother, asking somewhat fearfully in a soft voice, “Mother, what’s wrong? Are you unhappy?”

Having been confined for nearly half a year, pampered and willful Feng Hao had also begun learning to read expressions. This careful questioning instantly reddened Lady Feng’s eyes.

She took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she stroked Feng Hao’s hair. “Hao’er… Hao’er…”

But Feng Hao had already grown impatient, tilting his head to avoid her hand. “Mother, are you or aren’t you here to take me away? If you don’t take me away, I’ll die! Die!”

Lady Feng shook. Her hand slowly withdrew. She gazed at Feng Hao. The glittering brightness in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by needle-point steel-like grave determination.

“…What major incident happened?” Several jailers talked while patrolling the cells. “Just now I saw many crimson-armored guards pass by, heading toward West Flower Lane.”

“Never seen guards dressed like that, but looking at that bearing—tsk tsk, truly frightening. Whose family committed a crime?”

“Deploying several thousand at once—good heavens!”

The jailers’ waist keys clanged. The echoing footsteps gradually walked away. Lady Feng listened intently, her mouth gradually blooming with a strange smile.

The hour had come.

She suddenly stood up, reached out—cold light flashed—suddenly extracting from the ground bundle a small, sharply ground axe!

Before the dumbfounded Feng Hao could react, she raised the axe and chopped it down on the wooden bars!

With a crash, the bowl-thick wooden bars broke in two. In the flying wood chips, Lady Feng didn’t stop. The second axe chopped down again.

Feng Hao clutched his head and screamed, retreating in panic into the cell, eyes wide watching Lady Feng madly hack the cell door, hacking until the locks and chains clanged loudly—Mother had gone mad! Was she trying to break out of prison? How was that possible? Was there anyone who openly hacked prison doors to break someone out right in front of people?

“Mother, you’re insane!” He roared, shrinking in panic against the cell wall, his back pressed tightly against the icy wall, shouting outside, “She’s insane, she’s insane! I didn’t tell her to break me out! It’s not me, not me!”

The completely undisguised tremendous noise alerted the batch of jailers who had just walked away. They whirled around, almost unable to believe their eyes—in this world there were actually people who, in broad daylight under jailers’ noses, openly held axes to hack prison doors in a jailbreak!

Because it was too unbelievable, they froze there for a moment forgetting to react. But Lady Feng seemed not to have heard Feng Hao’s wild shouting at all. In three to five chops she split open the cell door, tossed the axe to the ground, strode into the cell, grabbed Feng Hao and rushed outside.

“My son, let’s go!”

The stunned Feng Hao was pulled by her, staggering forward a step, then reacting, desperately dragging backward. “No no no… I won’t go with you. You’re crazy—you’re harming me!”

Staying confined in prison wouldn’t kill him, but violent jailbreak was a capital offense!

He desperately tried to break free. But Lady Feng’s hand was like an iron clamp, firmly grasping his wrist. In his panicked struggling, he thought confusedly—Mother’s martial arts skills hadn’t declined? When did she train?

By this time the jailers had reacted, rushing over in an uproar. Someone was shouting in alarm, someone roaring in anger, “Seize them!” Someone ran swiftly to report and seek reinforcements. Outside, more figures moved, surrounding them.

Lady Feng grabbed Feng Hao, kicked up that bundle to carry on her back, and rushed outward.

In a chaotic, panicked daze, Feng Hao’s eyes unconsciously followed the bundle, landing on his mother’s face. He suddenly discovered Lady Feng’s expression was strange. As more and more people surged forward, surrounding them heavily, she actually revealed a trace of strange smile. And at the corner of her eye, a drop of glittering tear silently burst forth.

Then she resolutely raised her head. The tear imperceptibly flowed along her eye corner into her temples. The distant oil lamp’s dismal light illuminated her raised chin—a firm, unchangeable, tragic posture.

He was suddenly alarmed.

The human tide swarmed forward, blocking the exit completely. His hand was in his mother’s hand, unable to break free with all his strength.

Then he heard his mother beside his ear, speaking softly and desolately:

“Hao’er, I’m sorry.”

At the same time.

Golden plumes flowing like water, piercing through bustling smoke and fire, heading straight for West Flower Lane’s Qiu Mansion. With a bang they kicked open the main gate. Amid the courtyard full of alarmed shouts and chaos, they drove straight in, instantly surrounding the small courtyards where Lady Feng and Feng Zhiwei each lived.

The leader shouted loudly, “Where is Feng Zhiwei!”

Three days ago.

On the west side of the imperial city, near the Cold Palace, was a forbidden area, always heavily guarded, not permitting entry. Only a small portion of imperial high-ranking officials knew that there was a dungeon there—the Golden Plume Guards’ secret prison, with security so strict it was the world’s foremost. Imprisoned there had always been major criminals involved in imperial family cases and high treason.

The secret prison had been vacant for over ten years. Today it finally had new guests.

Oil lamps flickered dismally, illuminating deep blue iron walls. Lady Feng sat cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed, not saying a word. Feng Hao shrank in panic across from her, his body trembling, looking at this prison that seemed a hundred times more terrifying than the Ministry of Justice’s dungeon.

Each time his gaze swept over those blood-stained torture instruments on the wall, he would tremble.

“Mother! Mother!” He crawled on his knees before Lady Feng. The chains on his body clanged. He desperately reached out to shake the motionless mother. “Where is this? Why is it like this? Tell me! Tell me!”

Lady Feng slowly opened her eyes, her gaze calm as deep water.

“This is the Golden Plume Guards’ imperial secret prison,” she quietly looked at Feng Hao, “also known as the legendary Heavenly Prison.”

“Heavenly Prison!” Feng Hao sucked in a cold breath. His handsome face twisted. “Mother! What crime did we commit to be imprisoned in the Heavenly Prison?”

He suddenly seemed to comprehend. “Is it because you broke out of prison?” He hatefully crawled up. “I didn’t tell you to do that—I didn’t!”

“You go explain clearly to them!” He pulled Lady Feng up. “Just say this was your own doing! It has nothing to do with me. Have them release me. After I get out, I’ll come rescue you!”

Lady Feng looked at him steadily for a long while, sighed deeply, closed her eyes and said nothing.

Seeing his mother unmoved by soft or hard persuasion, Feng Hao rolled up, dragging his chains, crawled up and threw himself at the cell door, pounding hard. “Let me out! Let me out! I didn’t want to break out of prison! I’m innocent!”

No one paid attention to him. Only echoes constantly reverberated within the deep iron walls. “Innocent innocent innocent innocent” resounding all the way down.

“It’s useless.” Lady Feng said flatly behind him. “This is an iron prison with countless mechanisms, requiring no guards. Moreover, the four walls are all heavy iron—no sound can transmit out.”

“You’re insane!” Feng Hao whirled around, eyes red, glaring at Lady Feng through clenched teeth. “You want to seek your own death—why drag me along!”

“It may not necessarily be a dead end.” Lady Feng looked at this son with complex eyes, her gaze carrying both desolation and relief.

“What do you mean?” Feng Hao immediately rushed over with bright eyes.

“Your mother has some old case implicating you.” Lady Feng arranged her son’s disheveled hair, speaking gently. “You don’t know about this matter, nor should you know. You understand—some things, knowing them is actually not good.”

Feng Hao nodded. Having mixed in prominent families for so many years, he understood this principle.

“The so-called ‘the ignorant are not guilty’—whatever fault there is, Mother will bear it. You just need to remember not to speak carelessly.” Lady Feng held his hand in her palm, warming it repeatedly. “In the coming days, no matter what happens, you just say you don’t know. Remember this well.”

“Mm.” Feng Hao nodded. “If I say I don’t know, can I get out?”

Lady Feng gazed deeply at him. After a long while she said, “Yes.”

Feng Hao reluctantly showed a trace of smile. He stared into Lady Feng’s eyes, saying softly, “Mother, I’m your son. Don’t deceive me.”

Lady Feng looked at the disheveled Feng Hao. His face had fine wounds—scraped on the iron walls when dragged in by the Golden Plume Guards. Not being a young master yet having lived in gold and jade luxury since childhood, Feng Hao had never suffered physical pain. In the past he would have cried out long ago, but now pressed by life-threatening danger, he even forgot to act spoiled with her.

She took from her sleeve a small tube of ointment hidden close to her body that the Golden Plume Guards hadn’t confiscated, gently turned her son’s head, saying, “Let me apply this for you.”

Feng Hao obediently tilted his head, feeling his mother’s fingers move delicately and tenderly on his face, the touch cool. He heard her say softly, “Hao’er, don’t worry. Mother will always be with you.”

Feng Hao said “Mm,” setting down half his worries. As the pain on his face gradually left, he felt weariness rising. He yawned, hugging his mother’s waist, saying, “Then I’ll sleep a while.”

Lady Feng patted him gently, just like in childhood. Feng Hao felt deep drowsiness continuously attacking, though his heart always had some vague unease flash by. But he couldn’t resist that bone-deep exhaustion, sinking heavily into sleep in his mother’s arms.

Lady Feng gently embraced him, sitting withered on the wild grass of the iron prison. She lowered her head slightly, looking at her son’s sleep-frowning face, her fingers carefully and thoroughly drawing over his brows and eyes, stroke by stroke, engraving them in her heart.

In a trance, a drop of glittering liquid fell. About to fall on Feng Hao’s face, Lady Feng’s palm opened, catching it like lightning.

She looked at that drop of liquid for a long time. Slowly, tears fell again.

Two days ago.

Judging from the bit of skylight penetrating through an iron crack overhead, the sky seemed to have brightened.

But Feng Hao hadn’t yet awakened.

From the iron steps overhead came slow but heavy footsteps. Though lacking strength, the step rate was steady—footsteps that could only belong to one long in a position of authority.

A corner of yellow robe vaguely appeared at the end of the stairway. In the dim lamplight, someone stopped distantly at that end of the iron prison.

Lady Feng smiled faintly.

Her smile was hidden in shadow. No one saw that mysterious and comprehending expression.

That person watched her from afar, eyes emotional. After a long while, he waved his hand.

Cluttered footsteps retreated.

“Mingying.” That person spoke, tone indiscernible for joy or anger. “Calculating carefully, it’s been fifteen years since I’ve seen you.”

Lady Feng stood up. The chains rang softly as her posture remained neither servile nor overbearing. She performed a courtesy toward the other party. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“The last time I saw you was that year at the victory celebration banquet when you returned triumphant,” Emperor Tiansheng quietly looked at her features, gaze distant, as if searching in memory for that bright, fierce woman with compelling heroic spirit from years past. “At that time, a prominent family young lady mocked you for not resembling a woman, lacking proper ladylike demeanor. You angrily threw down your cup and composed poetry before the court. I… have always remembered very clearly.”

Lady Feng smiled faintly. “Mingying thanks Your Majesty for your favor.”

“You were the dynasty’s female marshal, a generation’s heroine with distinguished service. In your youth you rendered great merit to my Tiansheng,” Emperor Tiansheng’s tone was heavy, regret deep. “Why later would you actually aid and abet evil, assisting Great Cheng remnants?”

Lady Feng remained silent. After a long while she smiled and said, “All is karmic retribution.”

Emperor Tiansheng fell silent. The two faced each other distantly across the iron prison, each not speaking. One waited in a bosom of calm and icy determination for the final outcome. One was confused and lost in incomprehension, as if seeing that heroically spirited woman from many years ago, in the golden hall raising her hand to hurl a golden cup, voice ringing clear.

“This subject dares not share the hall with such vulgar rouge and powder, sullying our heavenly dynasty’s glory!”

At that time, that woman was bright as a painted screen, illuminating that hall full of paleness. From then on, that splash of color remained in memory. Until today’s review, he suddenly realized time’s cold congealing and heartlessness.

Distant years like old paper, stuck together by long-settled damp haze, couldn’t lift this moment’s heavy mood.

A long time later, Emperor Tiansheng finally spoke again, “Where is Feng Zhiwei?”

Lady Feng seemed to tremble. After a long while she said, “Not long ago she contracted smallpox and left the capital to recuperate. Now she’s presumably already returning to the capital.”

She turned around, looking at the sleeping Feng Hao. Suddenly tears fell. The steadfast immobility she’d maintained seemed completely destroyed by this sentence. Her robes swept as she had already knelt on the ground.

“Your Majesty… Mingying knows you won’t spare Zhiwei. Mingying only begs… only begs to die together with her…” A tear at her eye corner about to fall yet not falling, making hearts sink yet not sink. “…Also, Hao’er is innocent… I beg Your Majesty to release him…”

Emperor Tiansheng remained silent. After a long while, he coldly snorted.

Lady Feng lowered her head, fingers digging into iron cracks, nails faintly bleeding.

“Thud.”

A small bundle was thrown before her. Anger entered Emperor Tiansheng’s voice. “Mingying, even at this point you still want to deceive me?”

Lady Feng opened the bundle, carefully examining everything inside. The more she looked, the more ashen her face became. Barely maintaining composure, she put away the items and kowtowed. “Mingying doesn’t understand Your Majesty’s meaning.”

“You truly have inexplicable foolish loyalty to Great Cheng!” Emperor Tiansheng roared. “Actually playing this kind of feint-and-deceive, substitute-one-peach-for-another scheme!”

Lady Feng’s body trembled slightly. Biting her lower lip, she argued forcefully, “Your Majesty, you’ve been deceived!”

“I won’t be that stupid!” Emperor Tiansheng was furious beyond restraint. “Why would Feng Hao still have a jade lock piece? Why are the birth date and time on it different? Why does it still have Great Cheng secret marks? He’s clearly your adopted child—why did you say he was your birth child? The midwife the Golden Plume Guards found pointed the trail directly to Feng Zhiwei, but why did that midwife die suddenly? I tell you, I found a late-dynasty Great Cheng imperial concubine who testified that what escaped back then was an imperial prince. Moreover, I’ve also found the midwife who truly delivered your child back then. Feng Zhiwei is your birth daughter! Feng Hao is your adopted son, and moreover, he’s older than Feng Zhiwei! The golden lock piece you had him wear constantly changed his birth date and time!”

Lady Feng’s face changed drastically. She blurted out, “Zhiwei is my birth child? Impossible! Back then my child died at birth…” She said halfway then suddenly stopped, her face showing thunderbolt-shocked expression, as if suddenly remembering something, her whole body trembling violently.

“Indeed, even you were deceived! Became someone else’s shield for nothing!” Looking at Lady Feng’s expression, Emperor Tiansheng became more certain of his deduction. “I thought you were under some spell—actually willing to use your own birth daughter to exchange for Great Cheng remnants’ survival, even wanting to abandon her and escape from prison with Feng Hao yourself. So that’s how it is! So that’s how it is!”

Lady Feng cried out “Ah,” tears instantly flowing silently down her face.

Emperor Tiansheng looked at her grief-stricken expression, thinking she had actually been deceived for over ten years, nearly using her own birth daughter as a substitute to die—his heart couldn’t help softening. Yet thinking that even if she was deceived, what she committed was still the dynasty’s most taboo high treason crime, his heart ached and twisted. Feeling somewhat irritated, he said coldly, “I don’t know why you still protect Feng Hao. Do you still hope to live and get out, so Feng Hao can make you an Empress Dowager in the future?”

“Your Majesty…” Lady Feng struck her head heavily in the dust. “Your gaze is like a torch. Mingying can say nothing. Only permit Mingying to speak one more sentence for Hao’er… That child knows nothing… Apart from that bloodline, he is nothing… The Golden Plume Guards must have investigated him—he’s just an ordinary child raised by ordinary people… He, he can do nothing, Your Majesty…”

“If grass isn’t uprooted, it will inevitably bring harm,” Emperor Tiansheng said coldly. “Mingying, these are words you said to me over ten years ago when you led troops pursuing and killing Great Yue remnant forces.”

Lady Feng shook violently, finally prostrating herself and weeping bitterly.

“That organization back then—where is it now?” After a long silence, Emperor Tiansheng asked.

Lady Feng shook her head. “Your Majesty, you also know that year they were pursued by the Crown Prince’s forces for a thousand miles, then intercepted by Prince Chu at Thousand Traces Valley. The entire force was annihilated… Even Hao’er was picked up by Mingying in the valley at that time. Soft-hearted for a moment, I took him in. All these years, people from that organization never appeared. If truly someone was still alive, they should have appeared at our side long ago… But all these years, how we’ve lived… presumably Your Majesty is also aware…”

Emperor Tiansheng paused, thinking of Qiu Mingying and her children’s hardships over a dozen years. His heart also moved. He pondered silently.

Lady Feng took advantage of his distraction to retreat backward, opening her son’s sleep acupoint.

Feng Hao awakened in confusion. Upon waking, he immediately shouted, “Ah, I don’t know anything, don’t know anything! Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” His eyes showed panic—clearly he’d had a nightmare.

“Good child.” Lady Feng gathered him in her arms, closing her eyes.

Emperor Tiansheng stood in shadow at the upper end of the iron prison, silently watching the mother and son embracing on the ground. After a long while, he turned silently.

“Good child…” Lady Feng didn’t turn around, always keeping her eyes closed while holding Feng Hao, tears rolling down.

“Don’t be afraid…”

One day ago.

The light and shadow before the iron prison was so brief. When the sun rose or descended, falling on the wall surface, it was only a finger’s length of light and shadow.

Lady Feng stared at that light and shadow, expressionless, as if only wanting to seize time to look more at that human world’s light, afraid if she missed it, she could never pursue it again.

Feng Hao clung to the iron bars looking outward, constantly saying, “Mother, yesterday when I woke I saw someone go out. They’ve questioned us, right? When will they release us? When will they release me?”

“Soon.” Lady Feng said flatly. “It will end soon.”

“That’s wonderful.” Feng Hao’s eyes flashed with joyful light. “Mother, don’t worry. Once I get out, I’ll definitely rescue you!”

“You’re a good child.” Lady Feng smiled faintly at him. “Mother believes you.”

Feng Hao pulled the heavy iron chains, clanging sounds as he acted spoiled toward Lady Feng. “Too heavy—I can’t even sleep.”

“It will be better soon.” Lady Feng held those heavy chains in her hands, helping reduce their weight for him. “Soon it will be better.”

Heavy footsteps came. At the end of the stairway appeared several figures—crimson armor, golden plumes, cold expressions. The first two held trays in their hands.

“Are they people coming to release me?” Feng Hao was overjoyed, rushing over to shake the iron door.

Lady Feng’s body trembled.

“Click click click”—thirteen consecutive sounds of mechanisms and springs. The precision-crafted heavy locks opened. The first two entered carrying trays.

On the first tray was a cup of wine.

On the second tray were more items—a medicine pill and a set of palace-style women’s dress.

“Madam.” The first man’s tone was flat and emotionless. “His Majesty says you’ll understand upon seeing, and asks you to personally drink the wine.”

Lady Feng’s gaze slowly swept over that palace dress, finally stopping on that cup of wine.

Her eyes held a darkness, revealing no emotion, as if all the light of heaven and earth had already been hidden in her heart, unwilling to be illuminated by anyone.

After a long while she slowly stood. As she stood, the Golden Plume Guards vaguely seemed to hear her bones making creaking sounds.

She slowly walked before the first tray, picking up that cup of wine.

She held that wine for a very long time, seemingly so long that her fingers gradually began trembling. From afar, a bit of gray dim light shone over. That colorless wine liquid rippled slightly in the cup.

Lady Feng slowly raised her hand.

For that instant, the Golden Plume Guards suddenly felt as if this woman who had always been very calm before them seemed about to pour this wine into her own mouth.

But immediately he saw Lady Feng calmly holding the wine, turning, walking toward Feng Hao.

The Golden Plume Guards relaxed. He watched Lady Feng’s still-straight back, his eyes flashing with both admiring and contemptuous expression, retreating a step.

“Hao’er, are you thirsty?” Lady Feng gracefully held the cup, standing before Feng Hao. “Drink this cup of wine.”

From the moment that wine cup was raised, Feng Hao had already frozen in place. Now his lips trembled, even his eyes turning into a panicked iron-blue color. “Mother… Mother… what are you doing? What is this?”

“Wine.” Lady Feng quietly extended the wine cup.

“No! No!” Feng Hao suddenly howled, rolling and crawling while dragging iron chains toward the wall corner. Looking at Lady Feng’s extended hand as if seeing a devil’s claw reaching down from heaven’s peak. “You’re deceiving me, you’re deceiving me, you’re deceiving me, you’re deceiving me! I won’t won’t won’t won’t won’t won’t won’t!”

He screamed madly, wildly waving his hands trying to push away that terrible thing. Lady Feng couldn’t dodge in time—some wine liquid spilled. The Golden Plume Guards quickly stepped forward to catch it.

“You two, I cannot complete His Majesty’s instruction.” Lady Feng impassively returned the golden cup, walked back to her original place, sitting with her back to Feng Hao. “I’m counting on you.”

The two Golden Plume Guards looked at each other, nodding. His Majesty originally didn’t say Lady Feng must personally force-feed the wine—as long as she was willing to personally offer the wine, His Majesty would forgive her and give her an opportunity.

The two Golden Plume Guards held the wine and walked over.

Lady Feng sat quietly.

She faced the wall. Oil lamp light from afar shone over, elongating the shadows of people behind her like ghostly phantoms projected on the wall.

Strong and weak shadows… the giant, swaying golden cup filled with poisoned wine… the youth shrunk in the wall corner with nowhere to shrink… the body pressed down to the ground by large hands… one shadow stepping on the back, one shadow prying open the mouth, forcefully pouring down the wine cup…

Howling, fleeing, pleading, refusing, struggling, weeping, gasping…

She didn’t move, didn’t blink, silently yet persistently watching all of that.

A quarter hour later, everything returned to silence.

The second tray was gently placed before her.

“Madam, after using the power-dissolving powder, please change clothes.” The Golden Plume Guard said lowly. “His Majesty awaits you at Ning’an Palace.”

Lady Feng said nothing in silence, stood up, walked toward where Feng Hao lay behind her.

That pampered, domineering child spoiled by her into being unworldly and lawless would henceforth nevermore be able to make his own voice heard in this human world.

Lady Feng knelt on the icy iron floor, holding that child’s body in her arms for the last time.

She delicately stroked Feng Hao’s icy face, carefully wiping away the mud and dust from his struggling.

Under lamplight, Feng Hao’s ruddy complexion remained only moon-like pallor. Somewhere a wind arose, wailing lowly in the four walls’ deep black iron walls.

Feng Hao feebly opened his eyes.

He looked at Lady Feng somewhat distantly, as if looking at a distant person. After a long while, he moaned lowly, struggling to pull Lady Feng’s hand to touch his own belly.

His voice was as fine as spider silk about to break in winter wind.

“Mother… I hurt so much…”

That hand clawed weakly in midair, wanting the close relative beside him to personally experience that intestine-piercing, belly-rotting pain, just like so many times since childhood.

Yet that weak hand, having just grasped Lady Feng’s fingers, suddenly stopped. Then, silently dropped.

He lay there, eyes wide open. The divine light in his eyes scattered strand by strand.

In midair vaguely floated someone’s last breath, desolately wandering in night’s weeping.

Before death he called out in pain. The last time in his life wanting to grasp a loved one’s hand, unwilling to think of death’s cold truth behind.

He only wanted to take warmth on his journey, like in this brief life, all the everything Mother had always given him.

This life he lived willfully, selfishly, right and wrong reversed, only because fate had long arranged to owe him.

Lady Feng’s hand also froze in midair.

She gazed for a long time at those eyes unclosed unto death, and didn’t reach to close his eyelids.

Son… let you watch me, always watch me.

From the day I adopted you, I swore to you—in your brief life, I would only let you hurt once… just this once.

Just this once. I compensated you with sixteen years of indulgence, but I know—compensation isn’t enough. Nothing is more important than life.

Hao’er.

See me clearly.

This is the world’s most heartless mother, most shameless relative, most cold-blooded woman. She used sixteen years’ time, waiting for you to die.

The skylight on the wall turned another finger’s length.

The power-dissolving powder entered her belly. The dress went on her body.

From the moment Lady Feng stood up, she never looked back at Feng Hao again. Two Golden Plume Guards wrapped the corpse in yellow silk and dragged it out—this needed to be delivered to His Majesty for personal verification.

When the Golden Plume Guards came to urge again, Lady Feng calmly stood. When she stepped out onto the stairway, everyone felt their eyes brighten.

Like red maples accumulated with snow, ten thousand acres of azure waves frozen to ice—that woman’s raven-black brows held desolation yet brilliance, causing even that daylight to retreat.

A woman with charm yet heavy with grief and sorrow possessed a heart-startling beauty.

Lady Feng only looked straight ahead, spine straight, slowly going toward Ning’an Palace’s direction, footsteps steady, neither hurried nor slow.

The long dress hem dragged behind her like a white feather sweeping across mirror-like white marble stone floor.

Wind lifted her hair. From a stretch of raven-black suddenly fluttered snow-white. The Golden Plume Guards following behind startled, looking at each other.

They remembered when Lady Feng first entered the prison, she still had a head of black hair. When had it happened—beneath black silk, raven hair all turned to snow?

The woman ahead kept her head raised, walking calmly, passing corridors, crossing gardens, traversing small paths, entering palace halls… shoulders very thin, back very straight.

No one saw her expression like snow, a faint smile at her lips’ corners.

Zhiwei, you should already be sheltered and avoiding to a safe place under their protection, right?

Or you haven’t avoided. With your temperament, very likely you’re on the road back to the capital. But Nanhai and the Imperial Capital are separated by vast distance. By the time you arrive, everything will already be settled.

It’s fine if you return. Mother will arrange your future path. From this life forward, you’ll nevermore have this moment’s crisis and worries.

Many years ago, the person I loved told me: whatever you do, have beginning and end, do it to perfection.

Zhiwei.

I only hope you can also be thus.