Feng Qingyin had barely recovered her breath, and now being lifted by Feng Jiu’er, she immediately felt breathing become labored again.

Having experienced death’s shadow before, this time she’d learned her lesson and truly panicked.

“Even if you find out, what good does it do you?”

Feng Qingyin gasped for air while her eyes reddened: “They simply don’t want you marrying into the imperial family. Don’t you understand?”

Feng Jiu’er stared at her expressionlessly, yet her fingertips grew increasingly taut.

“With only my own power, I couldn’t arrange all this.”

That night when Feng Jiu’er’s wet nurse burned, the kitchen erupted in flames instantly. Feng Jiu’er was struck unconscious and carried back to her room. Yanu was imprisoned.

The Feng residence assumed the fire was set by Feng Jiu’er, this foolish girl, with no trace of doubt. In fact, until now, no one has questioned it.

Without a powerful force orchestrating from behind, who could accomplish all this?

The only mystery was why the Ninth Prince appeared in Feng Jiu’er’s room that night.

This was an unsolved enigma.

Feng Jiu’er still held Feng Qingyin by the collar, her gaze chillingly cold: “Then tell me, who exactly is manipulating all this from behind?”

Feng Qingyin looked at Feng Jiu’er. Suddenly, she curved her thin lips into a smile: “…Simpleton, you guess?”

Suddenly, something in her hand, she flung toward Feng Jiu’er’s face.

A fragrance even more potent than datura!

Feng Jiu’er instinctively released Feng Qingyin, stepping back hastily.

Yet with a boom, the door behind her was locked by intruding figures in black.

Feng Jiu’er shook her head. Her footing immediately became unsteady. She glared at Feng Qingyin: “What drug did you give me?”

“A simpleton is a simpleton. You didn’t even notice people entering my room.” Feng Qingyin laughed with abandon, watching the two black-clad figures who had moved behind Feng Jiu’er.

“This, I don’t know what it is either. But I heard it can cause hallucinations. Hehe, you’ll find out soon enough.”

She retrieved a small bottle from her sleeve with composure, unscrewed it, and poured out three pills. Two of them she tossed to the two behind Feng Jiu’er.

Unexpectedly, Feng Jiu’er, who had been nearly unable to stand moments before, suddenly narrowed her cold eyes and swept her long sleeve. The two pills easily fell into her palm.

Feng Qingyin was startled and immediately moved to step backward.

Yet she saw a white figure flash before her eyes, and Feng Jiu’er was already at her side.

The pill bottle was, in that instant, in Feng Jiu’er’s hand.

The two figures in black hadn’t expected Feng Jiu’er to be so swift. Suddenly stepping forward, Feng Jiu’er had already shifted her footing, retreating several steps to the window.

“The antidote?” She poured the three antidote pills back into the bottle, watching Feng Qingyin’s face begin to flush crimson.

“Damn it! Get the antidote back!” Feng Qingyin roared. She hadn’t had the chance to take the antidote first. She’d inhaled those flower scents too.

But why did only she show symptoms? Why wasn’t Feng Jiu’er affected at all?

The two figures in black possessed decent martial power, able to resist the floral fragrance. But Feng Qingyin and the two scouts on the ground clearly could not.

Feng Jiu’er slowly placed the pill bottle into her sleeve pouch. Seeing the two figures in black rapidly rushing toward her, she curved her long fingers. Between them appeared two silver needles.

The two black-clad figures came from left and right. One delivered a palm strike while the other extended five fingers like claws toward Feng Jiu’er’s shoulder.

Feng Jiu’er drew her feet in, her form flickering as she dodged sideways. Suddenly flicking her wrist, silver needles shot from between her fingers, flying straight toward the nearest black-clad figure…