This was the first time Feng Jiu’er had laid eyes on the reigning Emperor Qiwen since her transmigration.

Although Emperor Qiwen was past fifty, he still cut a fairly handsome figure, having taken such good care of himself that he looked no older than a man in his early forties — showing no signs of aging whatsoever.

But compared to Ninth Imperial Uncle, the difference was simply too vast.

Then again, that was to be expected — in this entire world, who could possibly measure up to Ninth Imperial Uncle? He was simply beyond compare.

“Jiu’er, you are before the Imperial Elder Brother — should you not pay your respects?” Ninth Imperial Uncle beside her gave a gentle reminder.

It was only then that Feng Jiu’er seemed to snap back to herself, immediately gave a small bend at the waist that could loosely be called a bow, and greeted the Emperor: “Your Majesty, greetings!”

“…” The entire hall, with the sole exception of Ninth Imperial Uncle whose expression remained as composed as still water, broke into varying shades of altered expressions.

The Empress, who had just managed to collect herself, arrived at precisely that moment, and upon hearing Feng Jiu’er’s words, immediately erupted: “How bold, Feng Jiu’er — daring to show such disrespect before His Majesty! Guards, drag her out and beat her to death!”

In the Empress’s eyes right now, Feng Jiu’er was nothing less than a thorn in her side and a splinter in her flesh. If she could not swiftly have her eliminated, the feeling festering in her heart would give her no peace.

If she did not remove her, her hatred would never be satisfied!

At the sound of the Empress’s voice, Feng Jiu’er immediately behaved like a mouse who had caught the scent of a cat, scrambling to hide behind Ninth Imperial Uncle and clutching his sleeve tightly.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, save me — the old witch wants to have a snake bite me again! Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’m so frightened!”

Zhan Qingcheng turned his head and looked at her. Before he could speak, the Empress’s shrill voice had already cut through the air: “Feng Jiu’er — who are you calling an old witch?! How dare you disrespect this consort! Guards!”

Two guards immediately rushed in — but upon meeting the calm, measured gaze of Emperor Qiwen seated at the high position above, they were instantly thrown into a flustered panic and retreated at once.

This was His Majesty’s Yuxiao Hall — His Majesty had not summoned anyone, yet they had dared to barge in. They were courting death.

Feng Jiu’er remained hidden behind Zhan Qingcheng, trembling: “Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

“It is fine. The Empress did not bring any venomous snakes into the hall today.” Zhan Qingcheng did not look at the Empress; instead, he looked at Emperor Qiwen seated at the high position above.

He said mildly: “Imperial Elder Brother, this girl was bitten by a venomous snake kept by the Empress in Xuanhua Hall — which is why even now, she panics the moment she sees the Empress.”

“How did a venomous snake come to be kept in the Empress’s Xuanhua Hall?” Emperor Qiwen’s thick brows knitted together as he fixed his gaze on the Empress standing below.

The Empress was unwilling to concede, but she had composed herself by now.

She met Emperor Qiwen’s gaze without deference or submission, and replied: “They are merely a few small creatures, kept for amusement.”

Feng Jiu’er’s eyes darkened slightly. This Empress Rong — it appeared she did not hold the Emperor in particularly fearful regard either. By the look of things, her influence at court was far from weak.

No wonder she dared to openly make advances toward Ninth Imperial Uncle. It turned out her own husband could not keep her in check.

Zhan Qingcheng gave a soft cough, and Emperor Qiwen immediately said: “A’Jiu, your health is not good — for anything you need to convey, you may simply send someone to pass word.”

He then added: “Bring a chair for Ninth Prince.”

Very soon someone brought a chair over for Zhan Qingcheng to sit.

This Ninth Prince, who had conquered battlefields and won outstanding military merit for the nation of Bei Mu, had been afflicted with illness from a young age — yet though he suffered from illness, he was by no means weak of body. On the battlefield, he was nothing short of a war god who made enemies tremble at the mere sound of his name.

It was only these past two years that his health seemed to have worsened steadily, and his face now often bore the pallor of illness.

Emperor Qiwen appeared to be especially attentive to Ninth Prince’s health — the moment he heard him cough, the Emperor grew visibly unsettled. Feng Jiu’er harbored a certain degree of doubt about this. It was said that the imperial house was without sentiment — and so she was uncertain whether the Emperor before her genuinely cared for Ninth Imperial Uncle, or whether it was simply that Ninth Imperial Uncle still held value to him on the battlefield.