The dim Golden Feather Guard prison drifted with faint wisps of water vapor, mingled with the scent of accumulated years of moss and blood-soaked earth. In the darkness, everyone appeared as shadowy silhouettes, like indistinct, elusive dreams.

Feng Zhiwei was also like a phantom merged with the darkness, floating on the border between blur and clarity. The shifting daylight illuminated her brows and eyes. She faced that light and gently closed her eyes.

Closing her eyelids, refusing the light—just as that year after the snow, the four seasons cycled, but her heart had refused all springs.

Time passed numbly. The pear blossoms would never bloom again.

In a daze, iron walls suddenly stood towering before her, rising high toward a thin line of sky overhead… It was that year on the Jiyang mountain wall when he had held the assassin and leapt over her head. The tremendous sound of wind and falling had crashed heavily at the cliff’s base. For an instant, she felt her heart too had been shattered to dust.

In that moment, she had shed tears.

In that moment, she finally knew despair.

In that moment, she suddenly realized with shock—a heart full of emotions, cast aside in that instant.

What perished together wasn’t him and the assassin, but each other’s hearts.

Then falling into emptiness, drifting from that day forward, never finding peaceful rest in the mortal realm.

She smiled slightly—not her usual graceful and leisurely smile, but one carrying thirty percent bitterness, thirty percent sorrow.

Across from her, Ning Yi’s breathing was close beside her ear. Without opening her eyes, she could sense his presence, yet even at such close range, what did it matter? They ultimately could never truly draw near.

“Your Highness.” After a long time, she finally opened her eyes, gazing at him steadily, and said softly, “As you wish.”

Departing footsteps always carried a somewhat hollow sound. Feng Zhiwei watched indifferently as Ning Yi’s robe corner turned past the high stone steps.

Coming and going hastily, exchanging heart-baring words, completely revealing the final layer of hidden thoughts—only to tell each other: My resolve is set.

He was determined to save Xin Ziyan, regardless of what means she used to obstruct him.

She would walk to the end of her vow’s path, regardless of how he wielded his blade ahead.

“What’s going on with you two, what’s going on…” Ning Cheng, who had never been able to figure it out, spun around on the floor clutching his fists, looking with an incredulous expression at Ning Yi’s departing back, then at Feng Zhiwei who remained sitting cross-legged with eyes closed, unmoving. Suddenly he struck his palm with his fist and said loudly, “I don’t care what you two think. In any case, I’m definitely taking charge of this matter. You—” He pointed at Feng Zhiwei and suddenly laughed coldly. “His Highness just pities you and won’t place you unto death. I don’t have such compassionate sentiments.”

“Oh?”

“What are you so proud of? You’re just relying on His Highness’s feelings for you, aren’t you?” Ning Cheng laughed coldly as he approached the cell door and said in a low voice, “Don’t forget—in this world besides His Highness, I also know your true identity. If you dare strike at Old Xin again, I’ll immediately go before the Emperor. I won’t need to say anything else—I’ll just tell His Majesty you are Feng Zhiwei… hehe!”

He grinned smugly with an expression of “actually you’d collapse with one blow, no effort needed at all, heavens know what you’re so proud of” as he looked at Feng Zhiwei.

Feng Zhiwei looked at him slowly and shook her head, then suddenly extended her hand and beckoned to him.

Ning Cheng approached in bewilderment. Feng Zhiwei’s sleeve moved and a pile of items slid from beneath it, spreading out right before Ning Cheng.

A thin crystal shard with vague undulating lines on it, as if part of a crystal relief carving, though the original shape could no longer be discerned.

A small brocade pouch containing a medicinal pill that emitted a strong fragrance.

A bamboo tube sealed well with wax, its contents indiscernible.

“What are these things?” Ning Cheng turned these items over and over, his face full of surprise.

“Some things you may not necessarily understand, but if your household’s Highness came, he would definitely comprehend.” Feng Zhiwei smiled faintly and pointed at the bamboo tube. “Let me explain this item so you’ll know. In the thirteenth year of Changxi, the Crown Prince’s treason case—do you still remember how at that time in Jingzhai Tower, a fire arrow suddenly flew from among the Changying Guard crowd and struck the Crown Prince?”

“So what?” Ning Cheng asked dully.

“At the time, with so many people in chaos, it was impossible to trace who shot that arrow. Afterward, nothing came of it. Because the archer couldn’t be found, officially it was called an accidental shooting. Your master thus eliminated the Crown Prince while also preserving his reputation, gaining His Majesty’s favor from then on, rising all the way to prominence.” Feng Zhiwei said flatly. “But you and I both know clearly—that was no accidental shooting, was it?”

“You…” Ning Cheng seemed to think of something, his face contorting as if with a toothache.

“Who said the culprit couldn’t be found? There was no need to search at all.” Feng Zhiwei idly weighed the bamboo tube. “One only needed to notice afterward which Changying Guards were transferred to distant posts, then notice among those transferred, who suddenly died not long after—wouldn’t that make it obvious?”

“You—” Ning Cheng could only gasp.

Feng Zhiwei smiled without mirth and put away the bamboo tube. “Working loyally for your household’s Highness, receiving his promise of a lucrative post after his meteoric rise, only to be silenced in the end—anyone would feel unwilling, wouldn’t they? Moreover, since they took on this task, they must have had some wariness in their hearts. Leaving behind some testimony or such would be quite normal, wouldn’t it?”

She patted the bamboo tube. “Tell me, if this dying testimony reaches His Majesty’s desk, what will His Majesty think? The Crown Prince walking into his own death doesn’t matter, but if the Crown Prince was secretly murdered, would His Majesty forgive lightly?”

“You woman—” Ning Cheng stared at her, wanting to curse but unable to voice it. Wanting to curse, he suddenly didn’t dare curse freely.

Some people were too terrifying. He felt even “venomous serpent” was insufficient to describe her. He unconsciously stepped back.

“My apologies. My meeting with your household’s Highness actually wasn’t beautiful. In the early days, because I glimpsed too many of his secrets, he wanted to kill me, and I was always quite fearful.” Feng Zhiwei didn’t even glance at him, saying flatly, “For the sake of my life, I had no choice but to prepare for rainy days.”

“Then… then what are these…” After a long moment, Ning Cheng pointed at those items and asked stutteringly.

Feng Zhiwei looked down at those items. That medicinal pill was the contraceptive Ning Yi had given to Consort Qing. That night beneath the bamboo bed, she had collected the crushed powder. Later, she had found ways to contact a physician in Ning Yi’s household and, through threats and enticements, obtained this pill. The brocade pouch containing the pill was Prince Chu’s exclusive pouch.

As for that crystal shard, it was a piece from the crystal statue of his birth mother that Ning Yi had smashed.

Ning Yi’s birth mother had died many years ago. That underground passage had long been forgotten by the Emperor of Tiansheng. But if someone sent this shattered crystal shard to his desk, he would certainly know his absurd and shameless old misdeeds had been discovered, and discovered by his own son at that. For the Emperor of Tiansheng who valued face and single-mindedly sought the reputation of a perfect sage ruler, this would be absolutely unacceptable.

This was the most ruthless move.

Ning Cheng stood dazed for a long moment. Though he didn’t understand what use these had, he knew what Feng Zhiwei produced must be trump cards. He suddenly rushed forward and raised his foot to stomp on those items. “I’ll show you, I’ll show you—”

“Go ahead and stomp.” Feng Zhiwei didn’t stop him at all, smiling as she spread her hands. “I have plenty of such evidence.”

Ning Cheng’s foot froze in midair.

Feng Zhiwei methodically organized the items and returned them to her sleeve, then said flatly, “I took them out to show you just to tell you—don’t think that because you hold my trump card in your hand, I’ll die with one move. If I dare strike at someone, I’m not afraid of them grabbing my throat. Look, your household’s Highness is still cleverer. He never says such stupid things to me, because he knows—to fight with me means honestly competing in schemes. Whoever loses or wins does so fair and square. Playing such underhanded tricks? The unconscionable things your household’s Highness has done these years aren’t fewer than mine, hehe.”

“You—” Ning Cheng’s foot came down with a thud, stamping heavily on the floor. He turned with resentment and whirled like a tornado to the opposite side, first rushing to Xin Ziyan’s cell across the way. With one raised hand, he released his acupoint, then spun around and rushed out howling.

“Uh… how did I fall asleep?” Across the way, Xin Ziyan woke as if from a great dream, rubbing his eyes and climbing up. Seeing Feng Zhiwei opposite him, he immediately snorted coldly and turned his head away.

Feng Zhiwei acted as if nothing had happened and lay down to sleep. Across the way, Xin Ziyan scratched his hair and snorted irritably, then suddenly his gaze fixed and he scrambled up in a rush.

He flew to the front of his cell, grasped the bars, stood on tiptoe, and desperately craned his head to look outside, shouting loudly, “Ahua! Ahua!”

Feng Zhiwei paused and sat up, pricking her ears to listen. Hearing nothing unusual, she wondered—what madness had seized Xin Ziyan?

“Ahua! Ahua!” But Xin Ziyan grew increasingly agitated, his face turning pale. He grabbed his chains and began frantically clanging them.

Guards arrived at the sound. Xin Ziyan pointed outside and said urgently, “My wife has come, my wife has come. Quickly stop her, quickly, quickly.”

“Grand Scholar must be joking!” The guard paused in surprise. “There’s no one nearby.”

“She’s come, she’s come. I know, I know.” Xin Ziyan jumped anxiously. “Go quickly, go. This woman has a violent temperament. She doesn’t understand anything. She acts without thinking. Go quickly and stop her for me.”

“Could it be Sir is afraid Madam will come to beat…” The guard wanted to joke, but seeing Xin Ziyan’s expression, didn’t dare continue and rushed out.

Feng Zhiwei watched with amusement, thinking Old Xin truly feared his wife, but also truly loved her. Such spiritual connection wasn’t something ordinary couples could have. Husband and wife who had weathered hardships together, supporting each other through thick and thin—that kind of bond was naturally different.

She narrowed her eyes, thinking of that year at Qingming Academy—the fat, large woman who led a group of heavily made-up sisters-in-law wielding cleavers to chase her husband. The corners of her mouth curved in a faint smile.

Even if it was someone else’s story, it was beautiful to watch.

Yet at this moment, even she hadn’t anticipated it.

Some beauty.

Destroyed in fate’s cold hands.

In an instant.

“Why is this main gate so tightly secured?” At the very time of Ning Cheng and Feng Zhiwei’s conversation, on a small hillock right beside the Capital Guard office, a fat, large woman stood with hands on hips, muttering to herself while facing the office gate.

At her temple was a peony flower with red petals and green leaves, enormous and swaying in the wind.

“Big Sister, I heard this isn’t an ordinary place. We should go back. Perhaps in a few days, brother-in-law will return.” A woman in red, two sizes smaller than her, looked at the heavily guarded office and timidly came to tug her sleeve corner.

“Bah!” The fat woman raised her hand and swatted away her hand. “Useless! Brainless! Ignorant! Since this isn’t an ordinary place, if your brother-in-law has been locked up here, could he get out so easily? Haven’t you heard that saying…” She tilted her head, rolling her eyes, thinking for a long time before excitedly clapping her hands. “…high places are unbearably cold!”

The other women in colorful clothes all nodded together and praised in unison, “Big Sister has such literary talent!”

“Following your brother-in-law for so long, I’ve at least gained some learning.” The fat woman Ahua was quite pleased. She surveyed the area with an imposing presence, then suddenly said seriously, “I tell you, in the past your brother-in-law was romantic. We scolded him and beat him, but no matter what, he’s my husband, your brother-in-law. Though your brother-in-law has this lustful problem, he’s been good to us. Without him, you wouldn’t have today’s fine clothes and jade food. Without him, I couldn’t be a first-rank lady. Look at Chamberlain Huang’s family, Minister Liu’s family—” She counted on her radish-like fingers one by one. “They also came from poor farming families. Before Chamberlain Huang became an official, his former wife sold their daughter to support his studies. What did he do? Once he became a Hanlin scholar, he divorced his wife! Compared to these bastards, your brother-in-law is a good man!”

“That’s right!” The seven golden flowers said in unison.

“So normally, beating is beating, but when he’s in trouble, we can’t be like those heartless women rolling up our bundles and leaving.” Fat Ahua stood majestically atop the mound, surveying in all directions. “I’m thinking we need to get your brother-in-law out.”

“How do we get him out?” The seven golden flowers asked in unison.

“See that tower?” Fat Ahua pointed at a watchtower of the Golden Feather Guard that appeared to have no guards. “There are people on all four sides, but no one there. I just saw a tree over there we can climb. Following that route down, won’t we get in? Later you seven provide cover for me. I need to sneak the old guy out.”

She patted the heavy bags on each side of her hips. “On the left is a cleaver, on the right is gold! Your brother-in-law said money makes ghosts push millstones. If someone really stops me, I’ll use the gold to smash them to death! After I carry him out, we’ll leave and go back to our hometown! If we can’t go back to our hometown, we’ll find any mountain hollow to nest in for the rest of our lives. Honestly, I’ve long been tired of this Imperial Capital. The ground doesn’t even have an earthy smell. People’s faces are as hard as stone. Those noble ladies’ hair oil is so strong it makes you dizzy. Now it’s perfect—I’m dragging him home to farm!”

“Good idea.” The seven golden flowers praised in unison, then suddenly realized and covered their mouths together. “Oh my, Big Sister, that’s called prison break—”

“Your brother-in-law always scolds me as a female bandit. Today I’ll really force him!” Fat Ahua said with earth-shaking momentum. “Third Flower, go stand under that tree as lookout. Fourth Flower and Fifth Flower, go to the main gate and make a scene, draw everyone over there. First Flower and Second Flower, you climb the wall—climb slowly, don’t really climb in. When guards come, surrender. Sixth Flower and Seventh Flower, you two are light-bodied, thin, and learned some martial arts for a few days. Come with me to steal him out.”

“Big Sister has a great plan!” The seven golden flowers nodded in unison.

“Less nonsense. Do what you need to do!” Fat Ahua waved her hand imperiously. The golden flowers scattered with a whoosh.

“Big Sister, after being a lady for so many years, can you still climb?” Seventh Flower asked.

Fat Ahua smiled proudly. “No problem. Have you forgotten? When your brother-in-law was studying and we ran out of food at home, on a snowy day I carried a basket and went thirty miles to find food. Our eldest wasn’t dead yet then. I was afraid he’d cry from hunger and disturb your brother-in-law’s studying, so I carried him out too. On the way, we encountered a pine forest. I climbed trees with the eldest on my back to gather pine nuts, up and down dozens of times. Now carrying his mere hundred-plus pounds—what’s that?” Having said this, she tightened her face, spat on her palms, rubbed her hands together, and nimbly climbed the tree.

“Big Sister, careful now—” Sixth Flower and Seventh Flower were young, had endured fewer hard days, weren’t skilled at tree climbing, and called up from behind with necks craned.

Fat Ahua’s eyes flashed with excitement as she climbed the tree. In a daze, it was still many years ago—heavy snow blocking the mountains, she carrying the eldest, using frozen hands to dig through rat holes. Those times were truly hard, but also truly happy. The eldest was still alive then. That fellow studied before her eyes every day, swaying his head and looking comical. Now they had everything, yet also had nothing. Children could never be born again. That fellow’s official position grew higher and higher, looking more and more like a proper person but coming home less and less. Things grew more and more abundant, smiles fewer and fewer. Food got better and better, sleep less and less sound.

Old fellow, I’m coming. We won’t serve those high officials and nobles and the Emperor. Accompanying the sovereign is like accompanying a tiger—the opera sings it just right. Let’s go, let’s be happy in the wild countryside!

She climbed the tree nimbly toward that place with no people—the watchtower.

The watchtower was silent. The crossbow mechanism hidden in the wall corner was silent.

Below, however, commotion arose.

At this time.

Xin Ziyan sensed his wife’s arrival and was impatiently urging someone to intercept her.

The guards had just left the dungeon preparing to check the entrance.

At the main gate, Fourth Flower and Fifth Flower began pounding the door and wailing, brandishing their eternal cleavers.

First Flower and Second Flower inserted cleavers at their waists, gathered their skirts, and slowly climbed the wall.

Most guards were drawn toward the main gate by the voices.

No one thought to look up. No one felt it necessary. Machines had always been more accurate and useful than human effort.

That tree by the watchtower was itself a trap, luring people to rashly climb in.

Fat Ahua climbed tremblingly to the tree’s end. Though the branches ahead approached the watchtower, there was actually still a slight distance. Someone with martial arts and a light body might be able to leap across, but Fat Ahua absolutely could not.

She didn’t dare advance rashly either. Her weight was too heavy—breaking the branch would be no joke.

Fat Ahua showed no troubled expression. She smiled somewhat proudly, considering herself supremely clever as she drew out her dedicated cleaver from behind her hips. The cleaver had spent years chopping at tables, chairs, teapots and such things near Xin Ziyan, already worn with countless nicks. Fat Ahua had never thought to replace it. If it were replaced with too sharp a blade, what if she accidentally really chopped that fellow?

Fat Ahua lovingly stroked the cleaver. Behind the cleaver trailed a long rope.

In operas, thieves who moved high and low would wave it about with a whoosh and thud—fixing the three-pronged hook atop the wall.

Fat Ahua believed that with her wrist strength, she could do it too.

“Move back.” She turned to instruct Sixth Flower and Seventh Flower, afraid her swinging might lack accuracy and hit her sisters.

The golden flowers obediently shrank backward.

“Whoosh.”

The cleaver traced a beautiful arc in midair, flying over the treetops across the sky, extremely accurately landing with a thud—chopping into a wooden panel at one corner of the watchtower.

“Accurate!”

Fat Ahua revealed a proud smile, her eyes flashing brightly.

“Swoosh!”

A dark gleam flashed atop the watchtower. The black crossbow mechanism, disturbed, flipped once. A huge mass of arrows shot out like a single sound, rolling through midair in an overwhelming dark cloud!

Ten thousand springs of blood sprayed in cries of alarm.

“Thud.”

Fat Ahua tumbled and fell from the treetop.

Her final smile froze.

When the enormous body atop the treetop fell with ten thousand blood-filled eyes, in the dark prison Xin Ziyan, who had been pacing anxiously back and forth, suddenly stopped.

He drew sharp breaths, pricking his ears to listen intently.

Wind sounds came from all sides, with vague, faint commotion. Nothing could really be heard, yet his complexion became extremely ugly. Suddenly he lay flat on the ground, stuck his rear in the air, and pressed his ear to the floor to listen.

That posture was truly unsightly—a moon-white rear sticking up pointing at heaven and earth, wobbling before the eyes. Feng Zhiwei frowned, again recalling that first meeting with Xin Ziyan. She thought that as a man, the beautiful Uncle Xin’s rear was indeed a bit large.

After listening for a long while without result, Xin Ziyan suddenly raised his head resentfully and stared at Feng Zhiwei across the way. “It’s all your fault, ungrateful wretch. After I get out, I’ll make your reputation swept away, infamous for ten thousand years—”

“Grand Scholar might perhaps wait until Madam arrives so you can pack together to vacation on Qiong Island.” Feng Zhiwei said flatly.

Qiong Island was where Tiansheng exiled serious criminals. By Feng Zhiwei’s estimation, Old Xin’s case, after being pulled and entangled by Ning Yi and his people to the very end, likely wouldn’t be a death sentence. Given Old Xin’s status, the greatest possibility was exile. That would be acceptable too. She had sworn to take revenge and wouldn’t show mercy when striking. But if one blow didn’t kill, there was no need for a second attempt.

Striking was because of enmity. Not striking a second time was because of grace.

Such a conclusion would be fine.

Thinking this, she suddenly smelled a faint scent of blood.

Then she heard chaotic footsteps—disorderly, urgent, hollow with no martial arts, accompanied by heart-rending wails.

Feng Zhiwei looked up sharply.

The light and shadow at the prison entrance above darkened. A large group of people surged in—men and women both. The women wailed in grief. The men were all Golden Feather Guards but wore panicked expressions. The frontmost group carried something, dripping continuously along their path.

Feng Zhiwei’s glance took it all in. She stood thunderstruck in place.

That group headed straight for Xin Ziyan’s cell. Those women, seeing Xin Ziyan, immediately exploded in crying.

“Brother-in-law—”

“Sister—”

They cried in a confused mess together. The youngest in flowered clothes, her face muddy, her body still stained with broken leaves and moss, spread her sharp ten fingers and lunged forward. Her fingers clawed desperately at the bars. “…Brother-in-law, big sister—”

Xin Ziyan had long frozen in place.

He didn’t look at that group of weeping sisters-in-law. He didn’t look at the helpless Golden Feather Guards. He only stared fixedly at the fat woman being gently laid before his cell door—her entire body bristled with arrows like a hedgehog. Thin springs of blood flowed ceaselessly like water. Her body was completely blood-soaked without a single patch of intact skin. It was astonishing how much blood a person’s body could contain to withstand such endless flowing.

As if carried away by the flowing blood along with flesh and skin, Fat Ahua’s enormous body seemed to have shrunk considerably. Xin Ziyan stared at the person on the ground with a strange, disbelieving expression—because the nightmare was too terrifying, desperately trying to wake himself, or desperately unwilling to wake—a bizarre expression. He actually stepped backward.

Fat Ahua amazingly wasn’t dead yet. At her position, all the arrows had avoided her head and face—vital points. But with such a body pierced by ten thousand arrows, survival was absolutely impossible. She seemed to be holding onto one breath, forcing herself to this place. Suddenly she tremblingly moved her neck, fixing her eyes deadly on Xin Ziyan.

Xin Ziyan saw her gaze and stopped retreating. Like sleepwalking, he moved forward with rigid knees. He seemed to forget there were bars before him and banged into them with a thud. He didn’t think to rub it. He didn’t know pain. He just blocked himself there straight.

The Golden Feather Guards exchanged glances, all showing troubled expressions. After a long moment, one dressed as a leader dropped to his knees with a thud and said in a low voice, “Sir… without His Majesty’s imperial decree, those who open prison doors without authorization face death penalty…”

Xin Ziyan heard but didn’t listen. He tremblingly extended his hand through the cell door trying to reach Fat Ahua.

“Swoosh.”

A cold gleam flew through the darkness, passing by the throat of that kneeling, guilt-faced Golden Feather Guard leader, drawing out a string of blood droplets, and nailing into the cell door with a thud.

“Open the door.” Feng Zhiwei’s cold voice came from across the way. “Otherwise you die right now.”

That leader touched his throat in shock. The bit of blood on his finger made his face change drastically. He whirled around to look at Feng Zhiwei. Feng Zhiwei lowered her eyes, her fingers gripping the floor straw tightly.

After hesitating for a long moment, that leader took out keys and opened the door.

The door had just opened. As he was about to help Xin Ziyan out, Xin Ziyan suddenly slapped his hand away with a crack, snatched the key in a frenzy and threw it out, then slammed the cell door shut with a bang.

He wouldn’t go out.

Everyone froze in place. Feng Zhiwei trembled, her palms ice-cold.

Xin Ziyan would never again accept even one bit of favor from her, even unto death.

Fat Ahua didn’t care what was happening around her. She only gazed fixedly at Xin Ziyan. Xin Ziyan drew a breath. After completing those actions just now, his sanity finally recovered somewhat. He crawled over on his knees, and through the cell bars, tightly grasped Fat Ahua’s hand.

“Ahua.” He said gently, “I’m here.”

The distant oil lamp’s ghastly greenish glow struck over. The swaying shadows of figures cast on the dying person’s face showed a blue-gray deathly pallor. The wind sounds from all sides suddenly grew dense and fine, mournful.

A trace of bleak smile appeared on Fat Ahua’s face. She looked at him carefully several times and said hoarsely, “Now you… can be… happy…”

Xin Ziyan’s mouth corners twitched—whether that was a smile or cry was unclear. After a long moment, he bit his teeth and said, “Yes, I’m happy. Once you die, I’ll go to Orchid Blossom Courtyard, Listening Rain Tower, Dwelling of Affection Pavilion, Drunken Moon Residence… You dare die? Can you bear to die? Even as a ghost won’t you be anxious to death?”

“…You… dare…” Fat Ahua seemed to want to curl her lips but only managed a faint, desolate arc at her mouth corners. Her eyes searched through the crowd. “…Flowers…”

The seven golden flowers sobbed and rushed forward.

“…Choose one… marry her…” Fat Ahua gripped Xin Ziyan’s hand and looked carefully at her sisters once more, saying as if in warning, “…Only… them…”

The golden flowers burst into great wailing. A sob-like low sound emerged from Xin Ziyan’s throat. He only bit his teeth and shook his head. Unable to reach Fat Ahua’s face, he repeatedly caressed her palm, saying in a low voice, “…The day I married you I swore an oath—never to take a second wife for my entire life. Don’t rush either. Days are still long. Not long ago I got a prescription from the Imperial Medical Academy. They said it guarantees me a son. When we return, we’ll use it…”

“…Old… shameless…” Perhaps it was a final surge of vigor, or perhaps feeling Xin Ziyan saying this in public was too embarrassing—a blush actually appeared on Fat Ahua’s deathly pale face. She gazed fixedly at Xin Ziyan, then suddenly raised her hand in a swinging, striking gesture.

Xin Ziyan quickly thrust his face forward, squeezing it between the bars, making that picturesque face squeeze flat.

Fat Ahua’s blood-stained hand fell upon his face.

As if she wanted to strike as she had for so many years, striking whenever she wished. But when it fell, it became only a light caress.

The first and final gentle touch in a lifetime.

“…Getting old…”

A soft sigh escaped her throat.

Her blood-stained fingers fell powerlessly downward.

Daylight withdrew completely at this moment, leaving only a trace of withered yellow light turning between gray-black walls. In the air was a thin, cool breath—legend said this was a person’s final breath in life, drifting restlessly.

Fat Ahua grew quiet.

She died before her husband, separated by cell bars.

Her final words in life were worrying about his aging.

The cell fell into silence. Even crying gradually ceased. An atmosphere condensed, solemn and murderous, pressing people not to cry aloud. The golden flowers stared dully at their kneeling brother-in-law, tears falling helplessly into the dust.

Xin Ziyan knelt there for a long time in an awkward posture—shoulders hunched, face squeezed between the bars, disheveled long hair hanging down, scattered over his shoulders. White moonlight from the small window above the cell fell down. His back silhouette resembled an injured crane.

After a long while, a muffled voice came from that hunched direction, floating and drifting like a black nightmare heavily descending.

“…I shouldn’t have spoiled her too much, causing her to understand nothing…”

The golden flowers paused, then crashed against the cell door, tears rolling to soak the ground.

He and she had met in humble circumstances. In famine years, she had supported him and given up their child. By the time he achieved success and fame, she could no longer bear children. From countryside to Imperial Capital, fine clothes and jade food couldn’t buy inner peace. He only felt he owed her—could never repay in one lifetime or the next. So he used a lifetime’s indulgence to compensate. If she wanted to be wildly jealous—let her. If she wanted to chase him with a knife—let her. If she didn’t like socializing with official wives—let her. If she insisted on tending her own plot at the Academy residence, not seeing outsiders, not concerning herself with worldly affairs, insisting on being her own farmer’s wife—let her.

He thought repayment meant doting, yielding, never abandoning his wife from humble origins. Yet he didn’t know that in the treacherous court, if she became his wife, she should have learned to properly face storms.

No one can protect anyone forever. He only understood this truth today. But the consequences were too painful.

This moment’s night wind was cool. This moment’s white moonlight.

Who knows how long afterward, Xin Ziyan suddenly raised his head to look at Feng Zhiwei across the way, who had remained dazed and silent in the darkness all along.

His tear tracks were gone, but his eyes were blood-red, filled with raging demonic fire that would burn the person before him to ashes—even if it meant making himself the kindling.

“Wei Zhi—”

“Between you and me—a fight to the death!”