After returning from Xi Liang, Feng Zhiwei resumed her role as Minister of Rites as usual, and things remained quite calm and peaceful for a while. There were rumors circulating in court that Wei Zhi wouldn’t remain in the Minister of Rites position for much longer—according to convention, after serving one term as a minister, one would be sent out to serve as a provincial governor in various circuits, and upon return could naturally enter the Cabinet. Wei Zhi’s entire official career had been spent circling around the Imperial Capital without ever being sent to an external post. Everyone was watching to see where he would ultimately be assigned.
Feng Zhiwei herself didn’t care where she was sent. If possible, she hoped to go to the Shanbei Circuit. That forest bandits case from before had many suspicious points, and she’d heard that the scattered remnants of the Hang family leaders had fled, with their remaining forces hiding deep in the mountains. If she encountered them, she could have a talk.
She had been back for several months, deliberately keeping herself very busy. The Imperial Temple was just around the corner, but aside from paying respects there on her first day back as was customary, she avoided visiting at other times. When she had seen Shaoning upon her return, she was quite shocked—the young woman was silent and desolate, no longer possessing that distinctive spirit from before. Although her gaze still showed some eagerness when looking at her, she would occasionally seem distracted, as if her mind was elsewhere. Feng Zhiwei thought of Consort Qing. When she had left on her mission to Xi Liang, Consort Qing had just become pregnant, but now she didn’t know what had happened. However, at Shaoning’s place, she had discovered no trace of Consort Qing.
She had also gone at the first opportunity upon returning to look at those two characters “Imperial Temple” that had been carved into the green stone at the well mouth. The characters had already disappeared, polished smooth as before, showing no sign that anyone had ever written there. She didn’t know who had erased them, or whether Ning Yi had ever seen them.
After this period of pretending to be busy, several more months slipped by in an instant. As early summer approached, Helian Zheng sent people from the grasslands with baskets of grapes, carefully wrapped in mulberry paper and delivered to the capital by express horses traveling day and night. When the grapes arrived, one could still see the dewy white frost condensed on their skins. As for the taste, they were sweet enough to seep into one’s lungs. Every time Feng Zhiwei ate them, she would lose focus, and in a trance it seemed as if Young Master and Zhixiao were both by her side—Young Master methodically peeling grapes and stuffing them into Zhixiao’s mouth with less than gentle movements, occasionally giving her one as well, while Zhixiao leaned against her father’s knee but wiped the juice from her hands all over Feng Zhiwei’s lap… Feng Zhiwei would only suddenly awaken at the moment grape juice dripped onto her lap, then sigh deeply at her own solitary shadow on the wall in the lamp-lit room.
Thinking this way, the taste of loneliness gnawed at her heart and bones, and even the best grapes lost their flavor. She carefully wrapped them up, preparing to send some to Xi Liang. However, Helian Zheng was quite thoughtful in certain aspects and specifically sent her a letter saying he had also sent a portion to Xi Liang. Feng Zhiwei then had people buy small walnuts to send over. Although Xi Liang also had small walnuts, she always felt that what Young Master liked best were definitely the walnuts from the Imperial Capital.
Young Master also wrote letters to her—many and frequently—but each time it was as if he cherished ink, paper, and brushes dearly, so frugal it made Feng Zhiwei want to cry. The paper was palm-sized, with words that could be counted on ten fingers, using highly condensed and summarized vocabulary. For example, the most recent reply after receiving the small walnuts was written like this: “Received, delicious, miss you.”
Basically, those last two characters in his replies never changed. The few characters before them would vary and combine according to the content of Feng Zhiwei’s letters. In spring, the letters would say: “Peach blossoms blooming, miss you.” “Apricot blossoms blooming, miss you.” “Pear blossoms blooming, miss you.” Come summer, without even asking, it would surely be: “Lotus flowers blooming, miss you.” “Lotus pods ripe, miss you.” And so on.
Sometimes Feng Zhiwei truly pitied the messenger in the organization responsible for delivering letters between Xi Liang and the Imperial Capital—running horses to death and breaking legs over thousands of miles, all for these few unchanging characters.
It was very easy for Feng Zhiwei to label his letters: “Miss You One,” “Miss You Two,” “Miss You Three,” and so on.
Before the grapes were finished—soaked daily in well water—with Young Master Gu’s letters grandly marked up to seventeen, she received another peculiar gift. The gift itself wasn’t particularly rare—it was still fruit, fruit produced in the south—but the person sending the gift was rather special: Little Prince Lu Zhiyan of Changning.
After using his scheme to intercept the Regent King that day, Lu Zhiyan had quickly left Xi Liang. Feng Zhiwei still held two IOUs he had written, so she wasn’t worried about him defaulting. However, considering their interactions in Xi Liang, they really couldn’t be called pleasant. Why was he sending a gift out of the blue? Could it be explosive bombs wrapped in fruit disguise? Feng Zhiwei stared at the neatly wrapped fruit, thinking it seemed rather large. Opening it, she found a pile of extremely large wood papayas, each one round and plump, with a note attached among the papayas.
Feng Zhiwei opened the note. The handwriting was Lu Zhiyan’s, as lively and soaring as the man himself, with every stroke seeming ready to fly off the paper. However, there were only a few characters.
At one glance, Feng Zhiwei’s nose nearly twisted in anger.
“A beauty gives me jade, I should return wood papaya. These are the best wood papayas from the south, with miraculous effects for breast enhancement. Yours is pitiful—stop tormenting it.”
For the first time in her life, Feng Zhiwei couldn’t control her emotions and tore the Little Prince’s note into ten thousand pieces.
After that, she still wanted to stomp the papayas flat, but thinking why take it out on the melons, she had people transport the papayas to the well, preparing to soak and cool them before eating. The more she hated, the more quickly she wanted to destroy them.
While waiting for the papayas to cool, she calmly instructed her subordinates to visit the Guangji General Store more often, have the Nine Gates Infantry frequently check on it, and also inquire about the business of “Shuangxi Money House”—Guangji General Store was merely Lu Zhiyan’s semi-concealed base, while the latter was his true hidden network spanning all under heaven. Feng Zhiwei received his wood papaya and returned a warning: “Don’t think I don’t know about your hidden forces and sources of income.”
The papayas rolled around rumbling by the well, their fragrance rich. Feng Zhiwei angrily grabbed one and threw it into the well, but instead of hearing the expected splash of water, she heard a laughing “Ouch.”
Upon hearing that voice, Feng Zhiwei knew that certain someone who frequently dove into the well had come again. She quickly stood up to gather the pile of papayas, but saw that Ning Yi had already emerged with a smile, a grape in his mouth, holding a papaya in each hand, eating the grape while saying, “The taste is good, these melons look good too.”
Seeing him holding a papaya in each hand, Feng Zhiwei’s face turned red past her ears. She hurriedly reached out to snatch them. Ning Yi pulled his hands back, hiding the melons behind him, tilting his head to scrutinize her carefully. “Eh, I take two of your papayas and you blush? Feeling distressed? They’re just two melons—how have you become more petty as you’ve gotten older?”
He rubbed the two melons back and forth, even carefully sniffing them, saying with great appreciation, “From the south, right? Remarkably fresh, and a good variety too.”
Seeing his completely serious expression, Feng Zhiwei thought about how this noble person had always lived in the Imperial Capital and probably didn’t know about the papaya’s so-called miraculous uses. Her complexion improved slightly as she cleared her throat and smiled. “No, these melons haven’t been washed yet. I’m afraid you’ll get an upset stomach eating them.”
Ning Yi set the papayas aside, raising his eyebrows with a smile. “Rare that you care about me so much—I’ll return the favor.” He picked up a bunch of grapes, personally peeled the skin, and held it to her lips. “Here.”
In the starlight, his features were stunning, his eyes flowing with brilliant light. Facing that face that could topple nations head-on, Feng Zhiwei felt that male beauty could indeed sometimes be oppressive. She quickly turned her eyes away and reached out to take it. But Ning Yi said, “You haven’t washed your hands. Use your mouth.”
Hearing that phrase “use your mouth,” Feng Zhiwei felt something was off again. Just as she was about to glare at him, Ning Yi had already gently brushed the grape against her lips. The crystal-clear grape juice stained her lips, making their color vivid. Ning Yi smiled. “Not opening your mouth? Fine, then let me taste if it’s sweet.” As he spoke, he was about to lean closer.
Feng Zhiwei jumped in fright and immediately opened her mouth quickly, swallowing the grape in one gulp and nearly choking. Ning Yi’s finger scraped across her lips as he said with a smile, “That’s better.” Then he brought his finger, stained with grape juice from her lips, to his own lips and gently sucked it.
Sucking the juice was one thing, but while doing so, he had to tilt his head slightly and smile at Feng Zhiwei. At this moment, his smile was enchanting and rippling, with an aura completely different from his elegant and noble daytime demeanor—like a demon-red mandala blooming at midnight, flowing silk stretching long, swaying with fragrance.
Encountering such a smile, Feng Zhiwei was instantly defeated. If it weren’t for the early evening hour with thick flowers and trees providing some cover, her burning face definitely couldn’t be concealed.
She could only quickly grab all the grapes to avoid this person’s further teasing. Ning Yi didn’t fight her for them, letting her snatch all the grapes. When she was clutching a handful of grapes preparing to eat them, he smiled and said, “I just peeled one for you to eat. Courtesy demands reciprocity—it’s your turn now.”
Feng Zhiwei touched her face, glanced at him, and said in a soft voice, “All right…” She slowly peeled a grape. The crystal-clear mare’s milk grape trembled with full juice between her snow-white fingers. She was maliciously tearing off the last bit of skin, preparing to squirt this grape onto someone’s face, when Ning Yi, who had been sitting at the well’s edge beside her, suddenly brought his face close.
At that moment, she squeezed with her hand, and the grape shot out, landing precisely between his lips. Ning Yi caught it in his mouth and smoothly drew her fingers in as well.
Feng Zhiwei quickly tried to pull her fingers back, but he gently bit down and wouldn’t let go. His face was slightly below and tilted upward toward her, a pair of eyes full of flowing light and smiles pressing close. Under such a gaze, Feng Zhiwei’s face turned red again uncooperatively. She felt that he wasn’t behaving himself holding her finger—his tongue lightly brushing back and forth, his teeth turning over and over biting carefully. Hot and itchy, her hand couldn’t help trembling, and regardless of possibly being bitten, she pulled outward.
But Ning Yi had already immediately released her. Feng Zhiwei withdrew her finger, catching sight from the corner of her eye of a clear tooth mark. Face red, she still had to force herself to play it cool, saying calmly, “Sorry, I didn’t wash my hands,” while washing her hands at the well’s edge, wanting to use that icy well water to calm the heat on her face.
Ning Yi didn’t expose her pretense, saying leisurely, “Even if you were disheveled and dirty, I wouldn’t mind.” After watching her for a long while, he suddenly pulled her hand. “Are you done washing? Keep washing and your hands will peel.”
Feng Zhiwei was facing away from him, shaking her hands. Ning Yi had already grabbed a handkerchief and pulled her hand over, carefully and thoroughly drying it for her. His movements were focused and gentle, his long eyelashes casting down, rippling with a small patch of moonlight and shadow. Feng Zhiwei glanced once and immediately turned her eyes away, only focusing on looking at that pile of papayas.
After Ning Yi dried her hands for her, he tucked the handkerchief into his robe and smiled. “I just came back from Haoyun Pavilion. His Majesty’s meaning is that you may truly be sent to an external post. Do you have anywhere you’d like to go?”
Feng Zhiwei thought for a moment. “I naturally hope for a good place. As you know, going out for one term is just a transition, preparation for entering the Cabinet. That being the case, don’t give me some poor and wretched place to govern. I think the Jianghuai region would be good—it’s also close to the Imperial Capital.”
“You certainly dream big.” Ning Yi laughed helplessly. “That’s the most prosperous place in the realm, a plush assignment dripping with wealth. Do you want me to fight tooth and nail to strive for it for you?”
“Isn’t His Majesty planning to manage the grain transport and open the Capital-Huai Canal?” Feng Zhiwei smiled. “You oversee the Finance and Works ministries. This task will probably fall to you. Think of a way to cause some trouble for the Jianghuai Circuit Commissioner, and I can replace him.”
“Why must you always use schemes against people?” Ning Yi patted her head. “I understand, I’ll do my best. In my opinion, why must you definitely be sent out? You’ve broken precedent in so many ways already—one more wouldn’t matter. I always hope you’ll stay close to me, lest you fly away when I’m not paying attention.”
“This official’s wing tips are tied to Your Highness’s palm,” Feng Zhiwei smiled sweetly. “If you call east, I absolutely wouldn’t dare go west. If you point north, I absolutely wouldn’t dare plant my head downward.”
Ning Yi smiled slightly, glancing at her. “I think it’s the other way around.” Without saying more, he said, “I still have matters tomorrow. I’ll head back first. You should sleep early.”
Feng Zhiwei made a sound of acknowledgment, her expression somewhat hesitant, but she didn’t speak. Ning Yi had always been perceptive. After taking one step, he turned back, gazing at her and asking, “You seem to have something you want to say to me?”
“It’s nothing much.” Feng Zhiwei’s chin slowly gestured toward the not-far-away neighboring area. “Since I returned this time, Shaoning seems much quieter. I want to know what happened to her during my absence.”
Her gaze lowered, falling on the well’s edge that had once been carved with characters but was now very smooth. What she really wanted to ask about were these two characters.
“Shaoning is indeed somewhat off,” Ning Yi said. “But after you left the capital, she didn’t stay in the Imperial Temple the whole time. Under the pretext of taking a break, she left the capital for the Shanbei Circuit, went to the realm’s greatest temple, Dezhao Temple, to pay respects to the golden statue of the seventh Zen patriarch, Master Zhiyuan, and stayed there for quite a while. She only returned to the capital shortly before you came back.”
Feng Zhiwei was slightly stunned, a trace of unease flickering through her heart. Then she smiled and said, “If she’s truly willing to devote herself to Buddhist teachings, that would be good. I’ve always worried about her temperament. That wound Qian Yan gave her left lingering damage that still hasn’t healed properly.”
“Qian Yan did well organizing documents for you in Xi Liang this time. I plan to speak with the Personnel Ministry about giving him an actual position.” Ning Yi casually replied. He seemed to still have something on his mind and quickly descended to the well’s edge, about to activate the mechanism. Feng Zhiwei instinctively rose to see him off. Just as Ning Yi was about to disappear into the well, he suddenly leaned close to her ear and said softly, “Mm… wood papaya is a good thing. Steamed with snow frog has miraculous effects… you know.”
Feng Zhiwei: “…”
The well’s edge returned to calm. Feng Zhiwei sat quietly by the well for a while, feeling restless inside. She randomly gnawed a few bites of papaya, then suddenly leaped up, vaulting over the high wall and heading to the neighboring Imperial Temple through the back alley.
As she flew out, she made a hand gesture indicating no need to follow, lest too many people following would make it easier to be discovered at a place like the Imperial Temple.
The Imperial Temple was completely quiet. She looked through the window at the princess’s room—dark and silent with no activity. Just as she was about to move closer to look, she suddenly heard a sound of wind behind her, coming extremely fast. Feng Zhiwei’s heart jumped in alarm as she retreated like lightning, but the other party was even faster. In the vague whistling of something sharp as a needle point, something had already attacked the back of her head!
This person’s attack speed exceeded imagination. Below Nan Yi, Feng Zhiwei had never encountered such martial arts, never experienced such an imminent moment between life and death. In her haste, she suddenly bent backward, falling headfirst from the wall.
With this fall, the opponent missed. Mid-air, she vaguely saw something like a flash of bright red light within black robes. Just as Feng Zhiwei was about to flip around, that whistling wind sound came again. Feng Zhiwei retreated rather awkwardly again and again. Her qinggong was extremely good to begin with, but the opponent’s movement technique was also like pursuing lightning and flowing light. Amidst the constant whistling wind, the two of them—one chasing, one fleeing—had instantly left the Imperial Temple’s boundaries. After fleeing for a stretch, as Feng Zhiwei turned a corner down an alley, the wind sound that had been relentlessly pursuing from behind suddenly stopped. In the darkness, Feng Zhiwei turned back. The path behind was empty and silent, the slightly damp ground glowing with the blue light of water vapor. There were no human figures anywhere. That seemingly life-or-death pursuit and crisis that had lasted mere moments seemed like nothing but a startling dream.
She stood there stunned, cold sweat streaming down her back, while also feeling baffled. This person had come so suddenly and left in an instant—what were they trying to do?
She looked around in all directions and only then realized that this chase had taken them far from the Imperial Temple. Looking at the surrounding buildings, it seemed to be the never-sleeping flower market in the southern part of the Imperial Capital, filled with songs and dances at night. Not far ahead, wasn’t that the Rouge River where she had once drunk wine?
She stood there dazed, cold wind hissing from all sides. Ordinary people at such a moment, having just experienced such a frightening battle, would mostly head straight home. But she had always been a suspicious person when encountering situations and was in no hurry to return. She slowly paced a few steps, walking to that rock where she had once sat drinking wine, thoughtfully sitting down. Glancing up by chance, she saw the sign for “Orchid Fragrance Courtyard.”
This courtyard was her initial hiding place after leaving the manor. Seeing it now felt rather affectionate. She suddenly wanted to visit Yin’er, or perhaps could also see Yanhong and Cui’er, see how they were doing now.
Of course, she couldn’t enter through the main door. The very hidden back door of Orchid Fragrance Courtyard—she was very familiar with it.
Feng Zhiwei stood up, removed Wei Zhi’s face mask, still in men’s clothing, keeping that classic yellow face. Arriving at Orchid Fragrance Courtyard’s back door, just as she was about to knock, she suddenly heard a rush of hurried footsteps coming from behind. She flashed to the side and saw Yin’er pulling along an old woman, rushing over. In the early summer weather, sweat covered their faces, their expressions extremely tense and urgent. Several women followed behind her, each with graceful figures and beautiful faces. Feng Zhiwei shrank into the dark shadows watching, thinking to herself—when did the Orchid Fragrance Courtyard girls become so high-class?
The group hurriedly pushed at the door. The door wasn’t even closed. Someone immediately appeared from behind the door saying, “You’re here? Quickly!” and received the group inside. Then shadows flashed inside and the door was closed.
Vaguely she heard footsteps hurrying inside and someone muttering, “What’s so great about this old woman, could she be better than…”
Immediately she heard Yin’er’s voice cut off that person’s grumbling, saying coldly, “Say less! No matter what, the master’s life is what matters!”
Feng Zhiwei listened to their footsteps and suddenly bent down to the ground, listening carefully. Sure enough, those footsteps didn’t sound like they were walking on level ground, but were gradually descending underground.
A tunnel?
Feng Zhiwei recalled Orchid Fragrance Courtyard’s layout. Her study of mechanism techniques had only begun after Zong Chen gave her that mysterious booklet. After that, she had left Orchid Fragrance Courtyard and truly hadn’t noticed anything suspicious about this place.
Now, listening to Yin’er’s tone of voice, that word “master,” everyone’s urgent expressions, and that so-called tunnel, a warning suddenly flashed in her heart.
When she was expelled from the manor, many things had seemed ordinary but were actually all within someone’s planned control. At that time, Ning Yi had already locked onto their Feng family siblings as targets, so the initial meeting at the Qiu Mansion wasn’t coincidence, the snowy night at the solitary bridge wasn’t chance encounter, and naturally Orchid Fragrance Courtyard wasn’t simple either.
In the darkness, Feng Zhiwei listened for a while, then straightened up and carefully examined the surrounding terrain. She leaped into a tree and calculated in various directions. After a while, her body surged forward, silently gliding across the treetops, turning through a narrow alley and landing before a civilian house.
Here, if she hadn’t guessed wrong, should be that tunnel’s exit.
There were some scattered beggars around. Feng Zhiwei observed and felt these beggars were genuine. She landed beside a beggar sleeping alone. Looking at his clothes—still acceptable—she poked him. “Hey, friend, can I buy one piece of clothing from you?” She held out a piece of broken silver.
The beggar’s eyes lit up. He took the silver and bit it, immediately stripped off his clothes efficiently and, without another word, disappeared into the darkness—these vagrants who often begged near pleasure houses and wine shops had encountered all sorts of strange people and had long learned not to be startled. If there was money to be made, they made it.
This actually saved Feng Zhiwei trouble. Pinching her nose, she put on that blackened torn jacket, let down her hair to cover her face. She hadn’t brought a face mask out today, so she could only humble herself to play a beggar. In the current situation, only these beggars who begged here year-round wouldn’t attract attention.
She crouched behind a broken vat, leisurely pretending to pick non-existent lice, listening to the movements inside.
There was still no movement inside, but wind sounds suddenly arose outside.
Not just wind sounds, but also bright light.
Sword light.
This was a stretch of silent black alleys, in stark contrast to the brightly lit never-sleeping district not far away. The seven-colored bright lights from over there shone here, and hazy smoke often drifted past, so when those sword lights appeared, they seemed like fireworks from the distance accidentally shooting here, just a flash of snow-light in the thick darkness, letting out a soft “chi” sound.
With Feng Zhiwei’s martial arts skill, it wasn’t until the opponent’s second sword strike that she smelled a bloody scent and suddenly realized with alarm.
Through the crack in that broken vat, she carefully looked over. In this narrow alley, a group of tightly-dressed black-clothed people had appeared at some unknown time, rapidly darting through the alley, striking with swords like splashing wind, silently stabbing to death all the beggars sleeping in the alley.
Feng Zhiwei’s heart shook. At this moment, if she wanted to leave, it was already too late. Seeing these people’s martial arts skills, she could escape, but it would inevitably alert them. Moreover, she still remembered that expert from earlier at the Imperial Temple who had forced her down from the wall, so she absolutely didn’t dare take risks. Thus she shrank behind the vat and didn’t move.
Her position was relatively concealed, but these people seemed determined to leave no survivors. Before long, light footsteps approached. Seeing her behind the vat, a flash of ferocious light flickered in their eyes. The long sword shot out like a spiritual snake with a “whoosh,” piercing into her chest.
This person was very confident in their martial arts. After landing the hit, they didn’t hesitate and turned to leave.
The tip of their inverted sword gleamed faintly in the dark, slowly dripping bright red liquid…
Feng Zhiwei remained motionless, curled up behind the vat, looking just like a beggar who had died wrongfully.
The half papaya in her bosom was very fragrant. She suddenly felt a bit hungry…
Over there, it seemed everything had been cleaned up. Then she heard the sound of horse hooves. These people immediately went up to greet them respectfully.
Feng Zhiwei turned her face slightly. Through the crack in the broken vat, she saw a rider on a red horse coming leisurely. The moment that horse entered her view, her heart shook—a top-grade Yue horse!
Her gaze lifted upward. The person on the horse was looking down coldly. In the starlight, a face like white jade and exquisite—a familiar beautiful face shape, but with large, bright eyes full of murderous spirit.
Shaoning!
She sat on her horse in the starlight, looking at the exit of that tunnel in the civilian house, speaking slowly and methodically. The evening breeze carried scattered fragments of speech. She vaguely heard: “…all cleaned up?”
The black-clothed people bowed respectfully.
Shaoning nodded with satisfaction, pointing at that civilian house. “The time is about right. I don’t think anyone would expect this place. Pick up the person immediately and leave.”
“Yes.”
“These corpses,” Shaoning frowned looking at the ground, “clean them all up, otherwise tomorrow the Imperial Capital Prefecture and the Nine Gates Infantry will be troublesome again.”
Those people took orders and went to drag the corpses. Feng Zhiwei silently cried out in distress—she didn’t want to be dragged away.
At this moment, she already understood what was happening. It seemed Consort Qing was giving birth tonight. For some reason, she wasn’t giving birth in the palace or at the Imperial Temple, but had chosen the underground tunnel beneath Orchid Fragrance Courtyard. And Shaoning was now calculating the timing of her labor to come pick her up.
Feng Zhiwei calculated the days. According to reason, Consort Qing should still have a few more days before giving birth. Was this a few days early, or had they simply induced labor?
She had another question in her heart: Consort Qing had a cooperative relationship with Ning Yi, so what was the relationship between Consort Qing and Orchid Fragrance Courtyard?
At this moment, a black-clothed person had already approached, about to drag her away. Feng Zhiwei’s mind raced, thinking about whether to let herself be dragged away first and return later—
Suddenly, a muffled boom!
This sound didn’t seem to come from above ground but from underground. The entire ground shook, and the remaining rainwater in the broken vat suddenly splashed out, soaking the boots of the black-clothed person coming to drag her. The person drew back in horror, looking at the ground. Even Feng Zhiwei, who was playing dead, was so shocked she opened her eyes—an earthquake?
Immediately she realized something was wrong. The ground only shook once and then returned to calm. All the surrounding houses remained intact. Her ear was pressed tightly to the ground, and at this moment she vaguely heard cries and screams coming from underground!
At this moment, Feng Zhiwei’s heart was like rolling thunder, instantly understanding everything!
Various thoughts flashed by in an instant. Immediately she wanted to leave no matter what and think about it later. This was a place of trouble—she shouldn’t stay. However, before she could move, Shaoning suddenly shouted in alarm, “What’s going on? Who!”
With her shout, human figures suddenly appeared all around—another group of black-clothed people, all wearing stiff wooden masks, holding various weapons, silently surrounding the group that Shaoning had brought.
The two sides faced each other. Feng Zhiwei thought they would at least exchange greetings and talk for a bit, but who knew—with a clang and a flash of sword light, one of the black-clothed people on Shaoning’s side had already fallen silently. This seemed to be an overture. In an instant, people from both sides fiercely clashed together. Those later-arriving black-clothed people not only didn’t greet at all but used killing moves with every strike, each one fatal. From their appearance, they seemed even more determined and ruthless than Shaoning’s subordinates killing beggars.
Shaoning was protected in the middle. Several subordinates, seeing the other side had come in large numbers and was prepared, desperately pulled her reins trying to protect her and make her leave first. Shaoning struggled on horseback, desperately turning back and hissing in a low voice, “…No! I must take away my…” A subordinate shouted lowly, “You must protect your own life first!” and viciously stabbed Shaoning’s horse on the rear. The horse, in extreme pain, gave a long neigh, raised its legs and leaped three zhang, forcefully jumping over the battling crowd. In the distant lamp-lit, smoke-filled distance, the red horse’s body flashed once and had already charged out of the encirclement. The black shadow of Shaoning’s long hair was pulled by the wind, already streaming like a banner far down the other end of the street.
In the black alley, crowds clashed and killed. Thick blood continuously splattered. Feng Zhiwei took advantage of the melee, quickly crouching to slip away. Suddenly she felt her waist tighten—someone had grabbed her.
She turned in great alarm, only then discovering that at some unknown time, a depression like a pot lid had appeared behind that vat, with a hole sinking down into the ground. From the ash-smoke-filled opening, half a body emerged, covered in blood and dust on their face, desperately clutching her clothing with bloody hands, while frantically handing over a bundle.
In the starlight, Feng Zhiwei’s gaze fell on that bundle and immediately jumped—it was a newborn infant!
Looking again at that blood-covered face pleading with her—it was clearly Yin’er!
“I beg you… I beg you…” Yin’er hadn’t recognized who she was, only taking her for a beggar in this alley. Hope burned in her eyes as she struggled to push the child into her hands, then shakily held out a brocade pouch in her hand. “…take him to the Imperial Temple… Imperial Temple… there’s money…”
Feng Zhiwei looked down at her. This woman’s eyes were already unfocused. Very obviously, that explosion just now had occurred in that tunnel. Someone had struck with extreme cruelty, taking advantage of the most chaotic and unguarded moment to blow up Consort Qing’s most important hiding place. A woman in labor, a newborn infant, and people crowded together—how could they withstand such an explosion?
Who this person was needn’t be asked—it was obvious.
Unmatched cunning, astonishing patience—these had always been his specialties. How laughable that she had still been worrying he didn’t know about the hidden imperial prince at the Imperial Temple, when he had long since strategized everything in his heart. Consort Qing, pregnant for ten months, would naturally be extremely careful everywhere, leaving no opening for anyone. So he wasn’t anxious to alert her prematurely, only waiting for her weakest moment to eliminate root and branch!
Exploding the secret chamber from within, driving away Shaoning from without—he was the master of this place!
Yin’er’s hand still reached up mid-air, looking up at her with sorrowful, pitiful eyes. Feng Zhiwei looked at those eyes and suddenly remembered that year at her most lonely and destitute moment, when she knocked on Orchid Fragrance Courtyard’s door asking to work as a servant boy, only to be thoroughly scolded by the matron who was about to drive her out. It was Yin’er who had suddenly appeared, gracefully placing her hand on the matron’s shoulder, looking at her with a smile and saying softly, “Matron, doesn’t our courtyard need a servant boy?”
Without Yin’er’s help, she couldn’t have stayed at Orchid Fragrance, wouldn’t necessarily have met Xin Ziyan, obtained that tianhuang stone token, and ultimately used Qingming’s power to leap through the dragon gate to her current glorious status.
And during those months at Orchid Fragrance Courtyard, Yin’er had truly cared for her, giving her the ordinary human care and warmth she had rarely received in nineteen years.
Four years in an instant. Four years later, the fingertips she extended had already lost the warmth of life. Those ten fingers, slender as jade, carved as if from stone, were stained with exquisite blood pearls, no longer possessing that warmth and gentle beauty from before. She remembered how the fingers resting on the matron’s shoulder back then, dyed with red nail polish, had also been bright red as blood.
Feng Zhiwei closed her eyes.
Some things—contradictory, hesitant, trying to avoid them—going round and round yet still arriving at that result… Was it heaven’s will?
The fingertips resting on her arm gradually began their final spasms. Yin’er’s breathing was rapid, a pair of dimming pupils staring tightly at her.
Feng Zhiwei opened her eyes and reached out her hand.
She calmly took that child.
Joy burst forth in Yin’er’s eyes, brilliantly bright for an instant, then extinguished. Feng Zhiwei bent down and heard a thread of sound drifting faintly in her throat.
“Master… I’ve repaid… your… kindness…”
Feng Zhiwei gently stroked her face, watching the woman close her eyes with a smile. Only then did she lower her head to look at the child. The tiny infant seemed to have already cried and wailed underground earlier. Now exhausted from sleep, tear droplets still hung beneath his eyes, mixed with blood and dust—a small face dirty and quite disheveled.
Feng Zhiwei lowered her head and gently wiped away the dust with her finger, sighing deeply in her heart.
Child, coming into this world truly requires crying. Life has much suffering, always without end.
She held the child tight, deliberating in her heart. She naturally wouldn’t send this child to the Imperial Temple. Her plan was to send him far from the capital, to the grasslands where the emperor’s reach was distant. Let this child, under Helian Zheng’s protection, become a happy herdsman who would never know his true identity!
Having decided on this plan, the battle situation ahead also seemed to be gradually calming. She quietly straightened from behind the vat, preparing to take advantage of the night and drifting ash to slip away first.
However, her half-straightened waist suddenly stopped.
Then she slowly turned her head, maintaining that strange posture of bending at the waist, looking toward the end of the alley that had been empty before.
There, at some unknown time, a figure had appeared—moon-white brocade robe, elegantly refined and transcendent, his features and temperament like a pale pear blossom dissolved in moonlight. Behind him, a deep black cloak danced like a demon, a large pale golden mandala flashing prominently.
He stood in the deep black background, his expression blurred and mottled, revealing only half a face that could topple nations, vaguely showing a trace of shallow smile.
The two looked at each other across the deep alley, each calm and cold.
After a long moment, he spoke, his voice gentle.
He said, “Zhiwei, you’ve worked hard.”
He extended both hands toward her.
“Come, give him to me.”