Tie Ci: “Get lost.”

This was the first time the Crown Princess had used such vulgar language, yet Feiyu found it so delightful he drank three more spoonfuls of soup.

Tie Ci turned to look at him. In the moonlight, his profile was beautiful and clear, a completely different quality from Feiyu’s graceful charm. Without the soft lines belonging to women, he had gained several degrees of the heroic beauty belonging to men.

She silently thought: How wonderful.

It’s worth looking at things from the bright side.

At the very least, hadn’t all her previous struggles and difficulties been resolved?

She no longer had to worry about splitting her heart in two, whether she was lesbian or bisexual.

She wondered if Teacher He had helped her break off that engagement. She’d heard previously that Prince Ding’an had proposed dissolving the betrothal, but her father emperor had angrily refused to immediately approve it. Now it was perfect timing to go with the flow.

Among Prince Ding’an’s sons, she had only paid attention to the favored ones, those ranked higher. She was too busy with daily affairs to pay attention to the unfavored later-born ones. Since she’d never heard of this one, he must be unremarkable and mediocre. That engagement could be dissolved without hesitation.

Feiyu quickly noticed her silent glance. His eyes flicked over, flowing light like water in an extremely beautiful arc.

Their gazes met and immediately separated.

Suddenly both felt parched.

They hurriedly reached for their soup ladles.

But they hadn’t realized the soup had already reached the bottom. The two ladles clinked crisply against the pot bottom.

They turned to look at each other, then suddenly both burst into laughter.

The people below, attracted by the aroma, kept wandering onto the deck intentionally or not, looking up to see the young men’s smiles above—clear and clean, with seawater and moonlight melting in their eyes.

As moving as this night’s gentle rolling sea breeze and tides.

Everyone sighed inwardly.

Ah, the friendship of youth—how beautiful.

On the mast, the two whose minds held no friendship but only X’s and O’s began playing with that pot.

Feiyu’s ladle tapped the pot’s edge with clear chimes that, listened to carefully, had quite a rhythm.

Feiyu said: “A little tune from our region—I’ll play it for you. It tells of a little girl by a frozen sea who saved a stranded shark. The shark gave her a whistle made from its own bone and taught her this song. Whenever she blew the whistle…”

At this point, Tie Ci suddenly remembered the bone-shaped whistle she’d gotten from him during their first encounter at sea.

Obviously Feiyu remembered too. From her expression he could tell she’d clearly connected his various identities. He looked toward her neck—nothing there.

He’d never seen her wear it.

“Why don’t you wear it?”

“Should I wear everything any random person gives me? What if it’s poisoned?”

“Where is it then? Did you treasure it?”

“Don’t remember. Perhaps threw it into the sea?”

Actually she hadn’t. Tie Ci quite liked it. Though she didn’t wear it, she’d had Chi Xue carefully store it away.

Feiyu snorted, but Tie Ci held out her hand to him.

“Hm?”

“Hm what? You stole my things—time to return them.”

During their first sea battle, her Qinde Seal had been pickpocketed. Obviously Feiyu hadn’t studied the item either—Tie Ci had never discovered it on him.

Feiyu tucked his hands in his sleeves, saying: “Haven’t asked you yet—what is it? I’ve explored it for ages but couldn’t open it. The mechanism seems quite intricate.”

Tie Ci’s small seal had an outer jade case with a mechanism requiring her to apply special medicinal oil to her finger, then press it with force to open. And it had to be her own fingerprint.

This was a mechanism her master had created, what he called a fingerprint lock, though due to insufficient technology, it could only be used once.

The Qinde Seal’s authority was higher than her other private seal, so Tie Ci rarely activated it.

Precisely because only she could open the mechanism, even though the seal had been stolen for so long, Tie Ci wasn’t particularly anxious. If she really couldn’t find it, she could just publish a notice in the official gazette declaring it void.

That private seal was crafted like a small ornament, seamlessly integrated. For Feiyu to identify the mechanism at a glance was already quite remarkable.

Tie Ci said: “It’s just an ornament, but it was bestowed by my respected elder relative, so I can’t casually give it to others.”

Feiyu immediately had something to say: “Am I not your relative? Or consider letting me become your relative?”

Tie Ci was well-prepared for his ability to climb any pole offered, saying without surprise: “Alright—want to be my son?”

Feiyu: “…”

I want to be your husband, yet you want to be my mother.

Such lofty ambitions indeed.

Tie Ci’s palm remained outstretched, snow-white beneath his nose. Feiyu stared at the clear lines in that palm, suddenly pulled out something and pressed it into her hand.

Before Tie Ci could see clearly, she felt the object wasn’t the private seal. Before she could protest, Feiyu quickly bent down, kissed her palm lightly, and laughed softly: “One returned plus one given—don’t be dissatisfied anymore!”

Tie Ci quickly withdrew her hand. Her palm held something smooth, but that moment’s soft, moist sensation seemed to linger. Her palm felt tingly and itchy, while Feiyu’s voice resonated by her ear—mellow and gentle, rustling past her ear with an extremely charming tone. She didn’t know if she was stirred by that feather-light kiss or softened by that voice, but her whole body felt tingly.

Then she realized his voice was gradually changing, becoming closer to the voice from their first shipboard encounter.

As Feiyu, his voice was slightly husky and deep feminine, with nasal tones—alluring and seductive.

As Rong Wei, his voice was clear and bright, reminiscent of resonant bells and jade.

Now it was flowing gently like spring breeze, like flowing water, like mellow wine, imperceptibly streaming past her ear, as if his voice had caressed her entire body.

Too bad this era had no voice actors, or he could make money with just his voice.

She clenched her palm, then after a moment spread it open.

In her palm was an irregularly shaped pearl, gray-blue in a very elegant color with soft luster, shaped like a small fish. A tiny flaw served as decoration, making it look even more like a fish’s eye.

A very cute thing.

Tie Ci had never used anything so cute before.

Feiyu said: “This sea produces pearls, but luck was bad today—had to open several hundred shells to get this one. Keep it for fun. I’ll give you better ones later, guaranteed to be thumb-sized each.”

Tie Ci said: “I’ll return this pearl to you, you return my ornament to me.”

“If you return the pearl to me, you’ll never get your ornament back,” Feiyu said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Tie Ci sighed and pocketed the little fish pearl, thinking forget it.

But Feiyu leaned closer again, saying: “Give me the hairpin, and I might still consider returning it to you.”

Still thinking about the hairpin!

Tie Ci chuckled: “Mention the hairpin again, and you’ll never receive any return gift from me!”

Feiyu was just teasing for fun, knowing Tie Ci wouldn’t give him the hairpin right now. Sitting on the mast looking around, he suddenly said: “Look!”

Tie Ci peered down to see Feiyu’s tall bodyguard and Dan Shuang lying by the ship’s rail looking at the moon.

Tonight’s moonlight honestly wasn’t very good—a bit hazy, with strong wind outside. People were huddled in cabins—really not ideal conditions for moon-gazing.

Tie Ci looked down at herself. Never mind others—she was up here where the wind was even stronger.

But it didn’t matter. With love, even heavenly winds feel warm.

Those two below remained in shadows, each seemingly looking separately. Gradually, Mu Si seemed to say something. Dan Shuang, looking at the sea, replied something. Mu Si apparently couldn’t hear her and moved closer.

Dan Shuang didn’t move.

After a while, Mu Si moved closer still.

Dan Shuang released the ship’s rail, straightened her sleeves, and glanced over sideways with distinct black and white eyes.

Just as Tie Ci thought these two below would slowly come together, suddenly Mu Si seemed impatient and took a big step sideways, while Dan Shuang also flicked her sleeve and stepped forward.

They stepped on each other’s feet and each cried out.

On the mast, Tie Ci’s stomach hurt from suppressing laughter.

Feiyu watched and shook his head greatly, sighing: “Usually quite fluent at cursing me, but facing a girl becomes so foolish?” Unable to bear it, he flicked a fishbone that hit Mu Si’s head.

Mu Si jumped in alarm, looked up to discover two people openly spying from above.

Dan Shuang also looked over. In the pale moonlight, Tie Ci noticed her frosty maid’s face seemed slightly flushed.

Feiyu sat above, taking pleasure in others’ embarrassment, extended both hands, touched fingertips together, and called loudly: “Can you speed things up!”

Mu Si looked ready to explode, striding up with such murderous momentum he apparently wanted to kick down the mast and commit regicide.

Tie Ci had no desire to suffer collateral damage, so she kicked Feiyu down with one foot, calling loudly: “He’s yours!”

Feiyu cried “Ai!” and “Darling, why so heartless!”

Tie Ci had already slipped down the mast and gone to sleep. In her dreams she vaguely heard continuous banging sounds from the deck, wondering if Mu Si had succeeded in regicide.

The next day, when the sky was still dim, she suddenly opened her eyes.

The next instant she had flashed onto the deck. On the leeward side where a long string of prisoners had been tied up, guarded by Guard Yu with several soldiers in rotating shifts. With many prisoners and few soldiers, Guard Yu couldn’t fully trust Tie Ci and the others, so the pressure was enormous. In one day and night his eyes had already reddened from exhaustion, sleeping right on deck while standing guard.

But trouble still occurred.

The deck was now in chaos. Several soldiers lay on the ground, dead or alive unknown. Some prisoners had also fallen. Bright red blood splashed in the milky white thick fog.

The remaining prisoners struggled to jump into the sea, plopping down like dumplings.

Tie Ci looked up to see the horizon ahead with ships faintly approaching. Obviously the prisoners on board feared being interrogated by Di Yiwei after reaching shore, so they had secretly planned this riot, taking advantage of the morning fog to jump ship—escape whoever could.

Guard Yu held a blade, knocking unconscious whoever he saw, but couldn’t handle them all. Seeing Tie Ci suddenly appear, his bloodshot eyes flashed with hope as he shouted: “Please help, Young Master Ye! My commander will surely reward you!”

A figure flashed—Feiyu appeared, shouting: “How much per person caught?”

Guard Yu gritted his teeth: “Name your price!”

Feiyu whispered to Tie Ci: “How about ten thousand taels each?”

Tie Ci was speechless: “Did you fall into a money basket?”

“Just trying to save up for wife money.”

Tie Ci smiled, saying leisurely: “Why bother? That’s too hard. If you’re willing to be a concubine, I can even provide betrothal gifts.”

Feiyu was shocked: “What do you mean? How can this be!”

Tie Ci was thinking men really all cared about this, when she heard him say: “Why should I be a concubine? Shouldn’t I be the primary wife? Don’t tell me you’ve already married a first wife at home? That won’t do—come, let’s lay down conditions. Will you handle it or shall I?”

Tie Ci: “…Just do your job!”

While they spoke, they had already stopped the prisoners trying to continue jumping, but the early winter seawater was too cold—they really didn’t want to jump in.

Feiyu was still bargaining with Guard Yu: “…Ten thousand won’t work? How about five thousand? Three thousand? One thousand?”

Suddenly someone said flatly: “Five qian.”

As soon as the voice fell, a fast boat suddenly broke through the fog. The ship was full of armored soldiers, each drawing bows and nocking arrows, aiming at those prisoners bobbing in the water like dumplings, drawing their bowstrings full.

Someone said: “Shoot—”

Arrows whistled continuously, piercing the thick fog, trailing countless pale traces across the sea, piercing into the floating human bodies in the water.

Instantly screams filled the sea, seawater stained red!

Feiyu, who was halfway down ready to work, would have been shot through the arm if not for his quick reflexes.

He flipped back onto the ship, staring at the ship across the thick fog, the smile in his eyes fading to reveal a slightly sinister air.

Tie Ci walked forward several steps.

She peered down into the water.

Even though she was experienced with scenes and didn’t fear corpses, she was instantly sickened by this killing method.

In just that instant, the sea surface was covered with floating corpses. Those arrows had almost all aimed for heads—clearly never intending to leave anyone alive.

Guard Yu had already rushed to the bow, heavily kneeling toward the fog: “Commander!”