More than a dozen guards surged forward and surrounded Feng Jiu’er and Yanu together.
Yanu’s expression darkened. On instinct, he pulled Feng Jiu’er behind him, his sharp gaze locking onto Feng Qingyin.
That look — it was like a keen blade of ice, piercing straight to the heart!
Feng Qingyin flinched in alarm and involuntarily backed up two steps.
Was the man before her truly Yanu? How could he have such a terrifying look in his eyes?
Even so, she steadied herself quickly and looked at the two of them with a cold smile.
“You carry on like this behind everyone’s backs, and you still dare show me disrespect? Quick! Seize them!”
“Yes, Eighth Miss!” The guards responded in unison and immediately surged toward Yanu.
Yanu’s palm tightened — he was prepared to fight these men to the last. But then, someone closed a hand around his, and the full force of his fury was somehow drained away by half.
“Ahh…!” A pained cry rang out. The first guard who had charged toward the two of them clutched his wrist and crumpled to the ground.
Everyone was startled. They looked hard and could see no visible wound on the guard anywhere.
Feng Qingyin was furious. She strode over and kicked him. “What are you doing? Get up!”
“Ahh… E-Eighth Miss, my hand, my hand…”
“Worthless fool, get up!” Feng Qingyin kicked him again, then looked at the guards surrounding her. “What are you all gawking at? Move!”
One by one, they seemed to snap out of a daze and immediately pressed forward.
“Ahh…!” Without warning, another two guards clutched their hands and collapsed, crying out in anguish.
Feng Qingyin fixed her eyes on Feng Jiu’er, who stood behind Yanu. “Feng Jiu’er — what did you do?”
“Did I do something?” Feng Jiu’er shrugged, the picture of innocence. “I didn’t even touch them.”
“Your hand moved, I saw it!”
“My hand moved a little, and they fall over? Elder Sister Qingyin, are you saying I’m some kind of deity?”
“You—!” Feng Qingyin refused to accept it. She snatched a long sword from one of her guards.
She did not dare harm Feng Jiu’er — at least not yet — so she drove that blade straight toward Yanu instead.
“Audacious wretch! How dare you carry on with the Ninth Miss!”
Carry on — those two words made Yanu’s palm clench tightly once more.
They could insult him and torture him all they liked — but they would never be allowed to humiliate his Miss!
Yet before Yanu could raise a hand to retaliate, Feng Qingyin suddenly let out a shriek. The sword dropped to the ground and she frantically pressed both hands to her own cheek, panic-stricken and at a loss.
“My face — my face!”
Her cheek burned with a fierce, stinging pain from something that had struck her, she knew not what. Feng Qingyin was nearly in tears with distress — there was nothing she guarded more jealously than her own face!
“Beat them to death! Beat this disgraceful pair to death! Kill them!”
Feng Qingyin retreated to the edge of the fighting circle, shouting and screaming: “Quick! Beat them to death!”
The guards looked at Feng Jiu’er and weren’t quite sure whether they were truly supposed to beat her and Yanu to death — after all, she was, at the end of the day… the Ninth Miss…
Feng Jiu’er stepped forward, positioning herself in front of Yanu, and fixed them all with a cold, steady gaze.
“I am the true-born daughter of the Feng Family. Your mistress, on the other hand, is nothing more than an illegitimate daughter whom my father took in as a goddaughter. Are you certain you wish to follow her orders and raise a hand against me?”
She stood before all of them, straight and unwavering.
The Ninth Miss of the past — meek, compliant, simple-minded, and confused — now stood utterly composed and cold, a presence that was sacred and inviolable.
Such an aura was something not even the noble-born sons of princely families could necessarily command!
And the words she had spoken struck everyone into a full and sudden clarity.
Did they truly intend to heed the word of an illegitimate daughter — and raise their hands against the true-born young mistress of the family?