Qiu Yuluo opened her eyes wide, staring at the person opposite her, still maintaining her posture of lifting her skirt, standing there dazed as if she hadn’t reacted at all. Behind her, the noisy hall immediately fell silent as a tomb, the color draining from everyone’s faces like a receding tide from the beach.

Ning Yi raised his eyes to look around, smiling at the hall full of noblewomen. Everyone hastily pulled stiff smiles across their faces in response.

“The front hall has already begun the banquet, yet all you ladies linger here—do you find this prince’s feast meager and wine sour, unwilling to grace us with your presence?” Ning Yi’s tone was gentle, his smile slight, but his words were rather unpleasant. The women, hearing this, hastily protested “not at all, not at all” while apologizing profusely, curtsying quickly before hurrying away.

Seeing the crowd disperse in the blink of an eye, Qiu Yuluo’s second sister-in-law and that third-rank imperial appointee tried to slip away at the back of the crowd. Ning Yi stood in place with a smile, saying nothing. When the two women hurried past trying to brush by him, he suddenly said: “Please wait, both of you.”

The two women shuddered violently, standing frozen in place with stiff shoulders, nervously turning their heads.

“Today guests gather like clouds, and there are congratulatory guests from the palace as well.” Ning Yi spoke slowly. “Just now, what you two said—my new concubine’s ears are poor and didn’t hear, and everyone else inexplicably heard nothing either. Unfortunately, those who should hear will still hear. This cannot be denied through shameless evasion. This has never been the family tradition of my Prince Chu’s mansion. Though Ning Yi lacks talent, I absolutely have no intention to deceive His Majesty, nor dare I privately conceal such absurd words for others—” He turned his head, his lacquer-like eyes looking coolly at the two women whose faces had drastically changed. “Will you two go to the Court of Judicial Review to confess yourselves? Or shall I entrust the Grand Consort to send you to confess?”

“Happy to oblige,” Feng Zhiwei immediately added with a smile.

Both were smiling, yet somehow those smiles looked chilling to observers. The two women’s legs went weak, and with a thud they collapsed to their knees. Qiu Yuluo cried out, “Your Highness—”

“Side Consort Qiu.” Ning Yi’s form of address immediately blocked her plea. “I originally thought you came from a great family and could bear the responsibility of being the female head of this prince’s mansion. Now it seems I was mistaken.”

“Your Highness—” Qiu Yuluo swayed, her face turning snow-white behind the pearl curtain. “I… I was also thinking of the mansion’s reputation…”

“The mansion’s reputation?” Ning Yi leaned forward slightly, carefully examining her eyes behind the deep red pearl curtain, saying lightly, “What day is today? Do you think only Prince Chu’s mansion and your people are in this mansion? Do you know that what was just said will soon reach His Majesty’s ears? If you were smart enough, when the Grand Consort pointed out these two women’s wrongs, you should have distanced yourself and handled it fairly—that would be maintaining Prince Chu’s mansion’s reputation. What did you do? Acting shamelessly, making false accusations, distorting truth, confusing right and wrong—you don’t resemble the future female head of Prince Chu’s mansion, but rather a marketplace shrew who cheats on weights and refuses to pay debts!”

His voice was very low, his tone not harsh, but each word was cutting and ruthlessly caustic. As Qiu Yuluo heard each word, it was like muffled thunder exploding in her ears, leaving her mind blank. Humiliation, sadness, anger, despair… all these emotions surged up like a tide, making it difficult for her to breathe, stars dancing before her eyes. Ning Yi’s face was close at hand—that face of peerless beauty in the capital now looked strange and cold. She retreated a step in confusion, grasping the trunk of a nearby tree.

Her face was deathly pale and she swayed on the verge of collapse, yet none of the maids or nannies around dared to support her. Ning Yi had no intention of letting her off so easily. He withdrew a few steps indifferently, looking at her from afar and saying, “When you make a mistake, you must make amends. These two women—I’m handing them over to you. What do you plan to do?”

“Yuluo, Yuluo—” Hearing this, Qiu Yuluo’s sister-in-law frantically rushed forward. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, save your sister-in-law, I’m your own sister-in-law…”

“Madam, Madam…” The third-rank appointee, tears and snot flowing, pulled at Qiu Yuluo’s hem. “I was blinded by greed! My dog mouth spoke nonsense! You must save me, save me—”

Qiu Yuluo stood dazed, letting them shake her like a lantern in the wind. After a long while, behind her swaying deep red pearl curtain, a sinuous gleam of moisture flashed.

The two women stared at her tensely. Ning Yi watched the sky with a half-smile, hands behind his back. Feng Zhiwei, utterly bored, prepared to slip away, only to discover Ning Yi was blocking her exit.

Then Qiu Yuluo took a deep breath.

“These two ladies spoke nonsense in my Prince Chu’s mansion, cursing His Majesty and insulting the deceased prince. Such absurd and treasonous words—we dare not hear them, nor dare we tolerate them.” Qiu Yuluo’s voice still trembled on the first word, but gradually calmed down, becoming cold as ice with each word. “Someone—”

Guards from Prince Chu’s mansion answered the call.

“Send them to the Court of Judicial Review. Request that the Chief Justice handle this matter.”

“Yes.”

“Save us—save us—” The two women’s pig-like squealing hadn’t even left their throats before the guards swiftly stuffed cloth in each of their mouths and dragged them away. Ning Yi said lightly, “Inform their husbands that they will also be dealt with for failing to discipline their wives and allowing them to cause disaster.”

“Yes.”

Qiu Yuluo trembled, biting back words. Ning Yi turned to the maids and matrons standing frozen along the corridor: “Your mistress is tired. Don’t disturb her anymore. All of you withdraw.”

The servants silently withdrew. Only then did Qiu Yuluo emit a wailing sob, lifting her skirt and running past Ning Yi like a madwoman, shoving Feng Zhiwei aside, and rushing back to the bridal chamber. Soon after, heartrending sobs could be heard.

The entire courtyard returned to silence. Feng Zhiwei listened to those sobs with indifference, thinking that the public exchange was sufficient, and privately the newlywed couple should properly apologize, speak softly, coax each other, and turn tears to smiles. One should be tactful in such matters.

She turned a fake smile toward Ning Yi, perfunctorily performing a courtesy, saying, “Thank you, Your Highness, for speaking up for justice. I apologize for disturbing Your Highness’s wedding night. I also feel embarrassed to continue at Your Highness’s feast, so I’ll take my leave, I’ll ta—what are you doing—”

Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed her arm. Someone lightning-fast dragged her up and pulled her toward the bridal chamber!

“Your Highness, what are you doing—” Feng Zhiwei never expected that Ning Yi, who always acted steadily, would behave so differently today. She wanted to struggle but was mindful of the setting. In her moment of hesitation, her guards had already drawn their swords with a ring toward him, the blade flashing toward his back. But Ning Yi completely ignored it and just walked forward. Feng Zhiwei turned her head to see his profile—his tightly pressed lips showed slight anger. She sighed inwardly and made a “no problem, stand down” gesture to her guards.

The guards sheathed their swords. Ning Yi acted as if he didn’t know about the near-miss just now. He took two steps up to the corridor, dragging Feng Zhiwei as he lifted the door curtain. With a turn of his wrist, he pressed Feng Zhiwei against the wall behind the door. Very skillfully, he placed his elbow horizontally in front of her throat—a position that gave no chance of escape.

Inside the room, Qiu Yuluo, who had been crying loudly while waiting for Ning Yi to come comfort her, looked up and immediately froze with an “ah.”

Ning Yi didn’t even glance at her from the corner of his eye, only staring at Feng Zhiwei’s misty autumn water eyes. Suddenly he lowered his head to grab her palm.

Feng Zhiwei immediately withdrew her hand, angrily saying, “Men and women should not touch hands when giving or receiving. What are you doing, Your Highness?”

Ning Yi slowly drew back his hand, narrowing his eyes to look at her. After a long moment, he gave a cold laugh and said, “Grand Consort, you still owe me an explanation.”

“I already explained, before His Majesty.” Feng Zhiwei averted her eyes, not looking at him. “I don’t think there’s any need to explain again.”

Ning Yi stared at her eyes, saying word by word: “You left me in the carriage, letting me live or die on my own—that’s your explanation?”

Feng Zhiwei looked at him. Ning Yi in his red robes, his black hair and eyes like ink, had a kind of clear, beautiful elegance rarely seen on ordinary days, so bright it was almost blinding. His eyes reflected the flower-adorned bridal chamber, and in the reflection of his pupils, Qiu Yuluo was looking up with alarm and anger.

“Yes.” After a long while, she said slowly, “If you resent me for this, I accept it.”

Ning Yi gave a short laugh.

Then he pressed his elbow over his eyes, tilting his head. His voice came muffled from beneath his elbow: “Zhiwei, Zhiwei, you’re always so stubborn.”

Feng Zhiwei closed her eyes, saying lightly in a soft voice, “I only regret that I didn’t ruthlessly kill you that day.”

“That’s very good.” Ning Yi released his elbow, staring at her coldly. “I just don’t understand—when you say such things, why do you never dare look at my eyes?”

Feng Zhiwei immediately opened her eyes to look at him, smiling slightly: “Do you need me to look at your eyes and repeat it?”

Ning Yi tilted his head back, giving a low laugh. His laughter had slight pauses, as if containing bitter fruit. “Forget it. If you want to torture yourself, I don’t.”

Feng Zhiwei remained silent.

Qiu Yuluo had originally been lying on the dressing table crying. When Ning Yi dragged Feng Zhiwei in, she froze there, watching the two in an awkward, half-turned posture. She couldn’t hear their conversation clearly, but could see their positions and expressions—could see the faint bitterness in Ning Yi’s brows, could see the deep coldness and infinitely hidden meaning in Feng Zhiwei’s gaze.

These two people.

Made one feel that heaven and earth existed only between them, with no room for anyone else to enter.

Qiu Yuluo’s face grew paler and paler. Her fingers unconsciously gripped a comb tightly, the comb’s not-very-sharp teeth stabbing into her palm with piercing pain.

Her uncontrollable heavy breathing reached Feng Zhiwei’s ears. She glanced over lightly, sighing silently in her heart, then pushed away Ning Yi’s hand, saying, “Your Highness, this is not a place for me to stay. Let me go.”

“This indeed is not a place for you to stay.” Ning Yi said softly, “I exhausted all efforts to preserve the position of principal consort, yet what you want is… the realm.”

The last two words were spoken lightly, and both of them trembled.

After so many years of separation and reunion, both understood each other’s hearts, yet never before today had they so directly pierced through that layer of paper.

Feng Zhiwei suddenly drew in a breath and pushed past him to leave.

Ning Yi grabbed her wrist and pulled. Feng Zhiwei’s step forward was forcefully pulled back by him. Ning Yi lowered his head and without hesitation pressed down on her lips.

The force with which he kissed down was so resolute and fierce that their teeth nearly collided, both emitting muffled grunts.

“Your Highness—” The unbearable Qiu Yuluo finally burst out with a shriek. At the moment Ning Yi lowered his head, she threw aside her comb with a snap and rushed over. “You can’t do this, you can’t do this, where does this put me…”

Ning Yi turned his head and fixed his eyes on her.

His staring gaze wasn’t fierce—his dark jade-like eyes were deep as an abyss. Qiu Yuluo, stared at by such eyes, stiffened.

“Where do I put you?” Ning Yi looked at her for a while, then slowly smiled. “When have you ever truly seen me in your eyes?”

“Your Highness… Your Highness, why do you say this?” Qiu Yuluo’s voice trembled, all the pearls on her head swaying. “I saved you…”

Her words stopped halfway because Ning Yi’s smile at that moment became even more strange—such eyes, showing pity, mockery, ridicule, sarcasm, disdain… made her tremble all over, her heart as if falling into an abyss.

“Yes, my life-saving benefactor.” Ning Yi emphasized the word “benefactor” heavily. “So I used the position of side consort to thank you.”

Qiu Yuluo stared blankly at his eyes, then suddenly began retreating step by step, stumbling back to the corner.

But Ning Yi no longer spared her a glance. He turned his head and said lightly, “Side Consort Qiu, smart people know to keep their place, say what should be said, do what should be done. If someone isn’t smart and crosses boundaries without propriety—” He pointed at Qiu Yuluo’s feet. “Look, this three-foot space can serve as a bed, but naturally it can also serve as a grave.”

He even made a square shape with his hands, as if outlining the dimensions of a grave. Qiu Yuluo stared at his fingers casually making that gesture, her eyes drifting about. Suddenly she couldn’t catch her breath and fainted.

She thudded down in the corner. Feng Zhiwei sighed softly. Ning Yi didn’t even glance at her, only staring at Feng Zhiwei, saying, “Grand Consort, these past few days I’ve thought it over repeatedly. You’re so generous, so magnanimous, wholeheartedly arranging my marriage. I suppose in this lifetime you absolutely refuse to share a bed with me. I just wonder if I’ll still have the honor of sharing a grave with you?”

Feng Zhiwei smiled gracefully, the smile floating lightly at her lips. “If we cannot share a bed in life, how can we share a tomb in death?”

“Hua Qiong has already prepared to emerge from the Ten Thousand Mountains, hasn’t she?” Ning Yi suddenly changed the subject, whispering lightly in her ear, “Tell me, what should I do?”

Feng Zhiwei’s heart trembled, but her face remained impassive as she smiled: “Oh?”

Ning Yi released her, staring into her eyes, nodding: “You once told me in the garrison prison, ‘as you wish.’ Now I also tell you, ‘as you wish.'”

Feng Zhiwei avoided his gaze, smiled and nodded: “Thank you, Your Highness, for your fulfillment.”

She lightly moved aside, walking past him from his side. Ning Yi stood silently unmoving, his fingers beneath his sleeves moving and then stilling.

Feng Zhiwei walked to the door and heard him say lowly, “I’m not reconciled, ultimately not reconciled…”

Feng Zhiwei’s back paused, then she lifted the curtain and left without looking back.

We thought we could withstand heaven’s ruthlessness.

But didn’t know that fate is the stronger force.

In the spring of the twentieth year of Changxi, Hua Qiong, who had been missing in the Ten Thousand Mountains for nearly two years, suddenly appeared at the southern end of the mountain range leading the Fire Phoenix Army. The moment she appeared before the world, Hua Qiong immediately displayed her ferocity as Tiansheng Dynasty’s number one female general. She directly pointed to treacherous officials in court who had deliberately concealed military intelligence, causing the Fire Phoenix Army to nearly be completely destroyed under Bazhou county city. She also claimed the Minnan general was jealous of talent and had colluded with the Changning Prince to plot against Fire Phoenix. She conveniently also revealed the old matter of how Fire Phoenix had been suppressed by military bigwigs and forced to flee to other countries, as well as the death of the Fire Phoenix female commander. She called the Emperor incompetent, persecuting loyal subjects, slaughtering meritorious officials, unable to win the hearts of soldiers. Then she raised the banner of “Eliminate treacherous giant fools, restore clear skies,” directly attacking the border between Minnan and Longbei at Mayu Pass, killing all defending generals at Mayu Pass, defeating local garrison forces. That very day she occupied Mayu Pass, and afterward her military momentum surged, conquering several prefectures in succession.

She had rebelled.

Hua Qiong appeared suddenly, struck fiercely, and rebelled decisively—everyone was caught off guard. According to reason, when Hua Qiong rebelled, the first to bear the brunt should be the Minnan general of the Prince Chu faction. But at that time, the Minnan general who should have been making a military engagement with Changning at the Longbei border suddenly committed a small error and was replaced on the spot, sent to garrison at Nanhai. As a result, the new Minnan general directly faced the menacingly advancing Fire Phoenix army.

It truly was a large army. If when Hua Qiong fled in defeat under Bazhou county city, Fire Phoenix still had only fifty or sixty thousand troops, then when the new Minnan general stood on the city wall of Yao City, the capital of Minnan, and saw the black mass of advancing Fire Phoenix army, he immediately gasped.

The Fire Phoenix army surging like a tide—where was it still fifty thousand? Three times that wouldn’t be enough!

Even more fatal was that those soldiers had armor that pierced the sun, bright swords and spears, cavalry like wind, fierce infantry, even scouts who came and went like ghosts—plus everyone had that fierce killing aura—even using your toes, you could tell they were absolutely first-rate elite soldiers.

Everyone looked at each other in bewilderment. Someone had seen the Fire Phoenix army just emerging from the mountains—truly everyone in animal skins and tree leaves, very bedraggled. But after looting Mayu Pass and opening Mayu City’s armory, the Fire Phoenix army miraculously immediately transformed, equipped with complete gear. Someone calculated that even adding up the armories of Mayu and several nearby prefectures wouldn’t be enough to fully equip one-third of the Fire Phoenix army.

Where did their swords, spears, and military equipment come from? This question lingered in everyone’s mind, but they couldn’t ask the now-enemy Hua Qiong. The murderous Hua Qiong pointed her long spear, and with just one encounter, her cavalry overturned Yao City’s waiting infantry formation!

Those Fire Phoenix cavalry each had superb horsemanship. Wherever they went, they formed sharp spearhead formations, their edge pressing forward like well-forged horn daggers, tearing, puncturing, and splitting enemy formations. The infantry following behind all had exquisite blade techniques and solid foundational martial arts, charging fiercely with roars, coming and going like lightning. Killing people was like chopping vegetables. Ordinary Tiansheng soldiers fell at first contact. Ten against one, the enemy still had strength to spare. Compared to these battle-hardened veterans, they were like paper.

The battle below the city was one-sided. Those watching from above went weak in the knees. Against such an army that could fight ten to one, who in the realm could stop them?

March eleventh, beneath Yao City.

March twelfth, Fuzhou fell.

March fourteenth, Ji County fell.

In just half a month, all of Minnan fell into Hua Qiong’s hands! The court’s main army was scattered and forced to retreat to the Linjiang line, caught right between Minnan and Changning—surrounded on both sides!

Military reports flew like snowflakes to court. The old and sickly Tiansheng Emperor, unable to bear such terrible news, immediately fell ill.

Prince Chu Ning Yi supervised the state.

The south of Tiansheng was turbulent with rising winds and surging clouds. Court was filled with panic and unease. As a “widowed woman,” Feng Zhiwei naturally had nothing to do with this—she merely observed coldly from the sidelines.

However, according to her estimation, perhaps she would soon have business to attend to.

Sure enough, that day she received an edict summoning her to the palace. The Emperor was ill, yet suddenly remembered to summon her to the palace—this might not be a good thing. Feng Zhiwei wore a cold, stern smile as she took a sedan chair into the palace.

Before reaching the Tiansheng Emperor’s bedchamber, while passing a secluded palace building, she suddenly saw a brocade-robed young man leading a five or six-year-old child walking by. She recognized the young man—he was the Tenth Prince Ning Ji, already enfeoffed as Prince Kang, who had never been involved in court politics and only oversaw the Imperial Household Department and palace affairs. This prince was most indifferent and low-key, living in seclusion. Even Feng Zhiwei, who liked to collect complete information on important figures, often forgot about him.

Rarely seen in the palace today, that round-faced, large-eyed gentle youth of years past had now become a handsome young man. His temperament was still introverted and shy though. Seeing female relatives approaching, he quickly pulled the child to take another route.

Given Feng Zhiwei’s current status, it wasn’t convenient for her to greet him. With some amusement, she watched him hurry away and asked a nearby eunuch, “Is that child beside Prince Kang His Highness his heir?”

“Yes,” the eunuch smiled. “His Highness took one consort and two concubines in the fourteenth year of Changxi. In the fifteenth year, he added one son and one daughter. This is his second son.”

Ning Ji already had two children. Feng Zhiwei smiled with realization, yet felt a hidden pang somewhere.

“Where were they just coming from?” Feng Zhiwei looked in the direction they had come from—directly from His Majesty’s bedchamber. Ning Ji oversaw the Imperial Household Department and was the only prince who could freely enter and exit the inner palace. According to reason, seeing him bringing his son in and out of the inner palace shouldn’t be strange, yet Feng Zhiwei inexplicably felt uneasy.

“Probably bringing the young heir to see the various consorts,” the eunuch smiled. “The consorts are all getting on in years, and their… circumstances are empty. Among the third-generation imperial grandsons, only Prince Kang’s young heir is most clever and lovable, much favored by His Majesty and the consorts.”

Feng Zhiwei made a sound of acknowledgment, thinking that her attention had never been on the inner palace, and she wasn’t often in the Imperial Capital, so she truly didn’t know these matters. Hearing that phrase about the consorts’ empty circumstances, she couldn’t help becoming lost in thought—in the end, the reason the consorts were empty was because their sons had almost all been eliminated by her.

Then she thought of Consort Qing. This venomous woman was both her enemy and Ning Yi’s. She had originally thought that during her year in the grasslands, Ning Yi would have long since dealt with this menace. She hadn’t expected Consort Qing to still be alive and well. After returning to the capital, she didn’t believe it and sent people to infiltrate the palace to investigate multiple times. She discovered that Consort Qing was indeed formidable enough—using the excuse that His Majesty was elderly and needed care, regardless of hardship, she had long since moved into His Majesty’s bedchamber. Like an ordinary maid, she attended to him day and night, never leaving his side. Thus she not only gained the same twelve-hour protection as the Emperor, but also received great imperial favor and widespread praise. She ate and slept with the Emperor. All food and drink that entered their mouths went through layers of checkpoints, with specialized people tasting three times. The bedchamber where they slept at night also changed constantly. The Tiansheng Emperor was already the most paranoid emperor. Because he didn’t trust any of his sons, he raised his personal security to a terrifying level. Wherever he went, there were layers of guards. Consort Qing stayed one step from his side—who could make a move?

Of course, if one attacked the palace by force, naturally one could make a move. But now was not the time.

Feng Zhiwei initially didn’t understand why Consort Qing wanted to target her. She sent people to Xiliang to investigate Consort Qing’s origins, tracing all the way to her experience of entering Xiliang’s number one song and dance troupe. This woman had suffered greatly, with some experiences that even made Feng Zhiwei sigh upon seeing them. However, her experiences before the song and dance troupe couldn’t be traced anywhere. It was only known that she didn’t seem to be from Xiliang locally. Feng Zhiwei suspected she was still from Tiansheng, but where in the vast sea of people could one search? It wasn’t until that day when Consort Qing secretly met Shaoning at the imperial temple. As she left, Zong Chen saw her figure and found a trace of familiarity in her movement technique.

The unique qinggong method belonging to Xue Futu.

Before Great Cheng’s destruction, according to custom, each generation of Xue Futu elites would visit the Zhan and Zong families to seek martial arts guidance from the two great families. Zong Chen had once met several elites of that generation of Xue Futu at the Zong family and was somewhat familiar with Xue Futu’s martial arts.

That Consort Qing was a Xue Futu descendant—this speculation left both Zong Chen and Feng Zhiwei stunned for a long time. Since she was a Xue Futu descendant, why didn’t she acknowledge it? Why treat her like an enemy?

Feng Zhiwei vaguely felt it might be related to Consort Qing’s childhood suffering and experiences.

Having guessed Consort Qing’s identity, another question immediately followed: If Consort Qing resented and sought revenge because she was a Great Cheng descendant, why not directly tell the Tiansheng Emperor and use his hand to easily eliminate Feng Zhiwei? Wouldn’t that be more convenient?

These incomprehensible questions, along with this enigmatic woman, hovered like shadows before Feng Zhiwei’s eyes, causing her to be somewhat dazed as she stepped into the hall.

Inside the bedchamber, the scent of medicine mixed with ambergris was thick and strange. Layer upon layer of curtains hung down, blocking the daylight the Emperor detested. Beyond the gauze curtains, someone was murmuring softly, their voice unclear, sounding like a heavy, stagnant dream.

The Emperor feared noise. The eunuch tiptoed to announce quietly. Feng Zhiwei followed behind him, her footsteps silent on the thick carpet.

She faintly heard low sobbing behind the curtains—a woman’s voice.

“…Your Majesty, this must not be done…”

“What can be done now…” The Tiansheng Emperor coughed lowly. “…Don’t think I haven’t tried… the second, fifth, and seventh—I wanted to spare them all… but they were as if possessed by ghosts and demons, acting so recklessly that I had no choice but to deal with them… You say there’s someone pulling strings behind them, I believe it… but look at those disappointing ones… what can be done now… in the end, I lack fortune and virtue, unable to obtain worthy sons… sigh…”

“Your Majesty!” The woman’s sobbing voice suddenly ceased, as if provoked by that last statement to make up her mind. The kneeling silhouette behind the curtain suddenly straightened. “Actually…”

Feng Zhiwei’s heart tightened. Her intuition told her she was about to hear an enormous secret. She couldn’t help but step forward. Turning her head, she saw the eunuch had already walked to the screen, about to announce her arrival. Alarmed, she rushed over and raised her hand to cover his mouth.

However, she was ultimately a step too slow.

“Your—” One word at the eunuch’s lips was forcibly stopped by Feng Zhiwei. The airflow sound wasn’t heard by the Emperor, but Consort Qing immediately stopped speaking. Then she stood up to lift the curtain.

“Who is it!”

Feng Zhiwei sighed inwardly and quickly released the hand covering the eunuch’s mouth, stepping back three paces. The eunuch, who hadn’t clearly heard the conversation inside, looked at her with confusion, then reported with lowered hands: “Your Majesty, Your Ladyship, the Grand Consort of Shunyi has arrived.”

Behind the curtain, Consort Qing’s graceful silhouette appeared. Hearing this title, she looked up with a smile. Without asking the Emperor, she said, “Announce her.”

Then she softly said to the Emperor, “Your Majesty, please mind your dragon health. Don’t speak too much. This consort will temporarily withdraw.”

The Tiansheng Emperor looked at her with gentle eyes, filled with satisfaction for this consort who knew propriety and knew when to advance and retreat. He lightly nodded.

The eunuch lifted the curtain. Consort Qing emerged; Feng Zhiwei entered.

The two came face to face, their gazes colliding.

Each showed gentleness concealing sharp edges.

Two women who were somewhat similar yet completely different—this was the first direct confrontation after revealing their opposing relationship to each other.

Consort Qing’s lips held a coldly smiling curve. As she brushed past Feng Zhiwei, their shoulders colliding, she suddenly turned her head and spoke quickly and clearly: “I know who you are.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled, answering equally swiftly and clearly: “The feeling is mutual.”

The two locked eyes, both gazes cold. Then Feng Zhiwei entered; she exited.

In that instant, Feng Zhiwei understood Consort Qing’s hesitation about revealing her identity to the Tiansheng Emperor—Consort Qing herself was also a Xue Futu descendant. She feared Feng Zhiwei also held relevant evidence. She also feared that exposing Feng Zhiwei’s identity would prompt the Tiansheng Emperor to ask how she knew. How should a consort with “clear background, long dwelling in the deep palace” explain that?

Someone like Consort Qing, cautious and venomous, would never place herself in danger first just to bring down an enemy.

She lifted the layers of curtains and bowed to the Emperor on the sickbed. The Emperor joyfully extended his hand to her.

After a long while, the eunuch lifted the curtain. Feng Zhiwei withdrew with a slight smile, saying as she walked, “Your Majesty, rest assured. Though this consort’s words carry little weight, I will certainly do my humble part for the dynasty.”

The Emperor’s somewhat hoarse laughter came out: “You are a good child. I trust you.”

The heavy curtains fell again. Feng Zhiwei withdrew from the bedchamber. As she turned around, the smile at her lips grew colder by several degrees.

As expected, she hadn’t guessed wrong. The Tiansheng Emperor’s intention had fallen on the Huzhuo Grasslands. He wanted the grasslands to send troops to attack the Changning Prince along the Longshui Pass line, so that the court’s main army, surrounded on both sides, could focus on dealing with the Fire Phoenix rebel army.

Under the eunuch’s guidance, Feng Zhiwei hurried out of the bedchamber. Along the way through the palace buildings, when passing Ning’an Palace, she stopped in her tracks.

Looking at those tightly closed deep red palace gates, the dark green eaves forming a line, bright green moss at the wall’s corner, a peach blossom earnestly reaching out.

Yet in her eyes was only that year—only that year of Ning’an Palace in the heavy snow.

That year’s bed drenched in Mother’s fresh blood, that year’s two coffins side by side in the lonely room, that year’s eternal lamp that wouldn’t extinguish, that year’s peach tree in Ning’an Palace’s rear courtyard—beneath brown branches piled with snow, writing in the snow thawed by her ice-cold hands.

She quietly gazed at the corner of the palace eaves. The conversation from the Emperor’s bedchamber earlier drifted through her mind.

“…Zhiwei, the Fire Phoenix army actually rose up in the name of avenging the female commander and seized Minnan—absurd, truly absurd!”

“Your Majesty need not be angry. The rebel army merely uses lies to confuse people. How my mother died… this consort knows best. Your Majesty treated my mother with utmost benevolence, cared for Zhiwei with great love—such deep benevolence and thick virtue rarely seen among sage monarchs of past and present. The rebel army’s false words slandering our Emperor are truly deserving of death ten thousand times!”

The Tiansheng Emperor’s turbid old eyes stared at her intently, his gaze showing a trace of relief.

“When these rebel armies cause chaos, they just randomly find some excuse. I have a clear conscience. Why should I fear petty slander? But thinking of how I treated Fire Phoenix and Hua Qiong with such great kindness, yet they could still turn swords against us—it truly chills the heart.”

“Your Majesty, otherwise, this consort, as the orphan of the female commander, could go explain righteousness to the Fire Phoenix army?”

“No need. A massive army like iron—they may not listen to a woman’s words. Sending you alone into danger, I… couldn’t bear it.”

Couldn’t bear it, or didn’t dare? Afraid of releasing the tiger back to the mountain?

In the Emperor’s heart, there was still some suspicion, wasn’t there?

Requesting the grasslands to send troops to assist was a test of her loyalty.

Feng Zhiwei’s lips curved in a faint smile as she quickly left the palace.

Returning to her residence, she naturally couldn’t return to the Wei mansion now. But when Helian Zheng served as hostage in the Imperial Capital, he had a magnificent mansion. She reasonably moved in.

In the mansion, she wrote a letter to the grasslands, clearly repeating the Tiansheng Emperor’s words to Mudan Hua, then openly handed it to the steward to be delivered by the court’s postal relay.

This letter was the declaration of loyalty the Tiansheng Emperor was waiting for. Rather than letting him secretly send people to intercept and read it, better to directly take the most open and aboveboard route.

As for whether she needed to write a secret letter with other instructions.

No need.

Mudan Hua would know what to do.

Feng Zhiwei raised her face, looking toward the northern frontier. Vaguely at the horizon’s edge, someone was riding toward her, their smiling face bright.

After sending the letter, she returned to the mansion. Nothing in this residence had been touched, preserving Helian’s rough and casual style when alive. She didn’t plan to change it. Even if seeing those bows he used and swords he wielded pierced her heart, she would force herself to keep looking, keep living here—looking so clearly and unforgivingly, like those relatives in the heavens who always kept their eyes open watching her every move.

She wasn’t alone. Before completing those tasks, she was a soul offered in sacrifice.

The evening wind rose, breaking through the peach blossoms on the branches. The courtyard was covered with fallen red petals. In the spring night’s profusion, she remained silent, waiting for news.

Someone approached quietly with a peculiar gait—the unique rhythm of Xue Futu.

Zong Chen had stayed in the grasslands. Now the Xue Futu person in charge beside her was only identified by number, each performing their duties without subordination to each other. This was the new system Zong Chen adopted after learning the lesson of Xue Futu’s betrayal in the past. This “A San” was responsible for collecting and transmitting information around the imperial palace, currently specifically monitoring Consort Qing.

“Master.” The voice behind her was soft. “She left the palace.”

Feng Zhiwei turned around sharply.

Didn’t Consort Qing hide beside the Emperor never leaving his side? How could she leave the palace at this moment?

“Where did she go?”

“South city, Siming Alley.”

South city Siming Alley, west capital Shenshui Street—the two major residential areas for officials and nobles in the capital. Who was Consort Qing going to see?

Feng Zhiwei’s expression was contemplative. Supposedly, Consort Qing leaving the palace at this time was very questionable. But the opportunity for her to leave the palace was too rare to let pass. She couldn’t be reconciled.

Consort Qing was the chief culprit in Helian’s death. Letting her live until today, she couldn’t sleep or eat in peace.

“Lead the way.”

Several shadowy figures silently left the Shunyi Prince’s mansion, sweeping across the night sky.

Consort Qing’s silhouette was easy to recognize. She and her subordinates had all modified Xue Futu martial arts with feminine improvements. Their swaying waists had a distinctive charm. From afar, Feng Zhiwei saw Consort Qing sweeping past peach tree tops with that strange rhythm.

Compared to last time, her qinggong had improved again. The life of fine clothes and jade food in the imperial palace hadn’t caused her to neglect her skills.

Such a woman—how could she be satisfied with just a consort’s position?

Feng Zhiwei trailed her from afar, watching her cross layers of rooftops, walking more and more remotely. Finally, she stopped before a courtyard.

Distant lamplight shone over, illuminating the dilapidated gate covered in cobwebs and dust. The semi-tilted plaque with dim gold characters was vaguely visible: “…Prince’s Mansion.” The first gold character had already been knocked off.

This seemed to be some prince’s mansion, but Feng Zhiwei knew the mansions of the second, fifth, seventh, and tenth princes—none were here. Whose prince’s mansion was this?

What was Consort Qing doing here?

Feng Zhiwei covered her face, her gaze piercing as she watched Consort Qing push open the dust-covered door and enter directly into the third courtyard behind. In the long-dilapidated garden, she paced back and forth as if anxiously waiting for someone.

Then she seemed to hear something and quickly hid.

“Creak.” The dust-filled gate was pushed open for the second time. A brocade-robed man led a child inside. He waved his hand, and several guards respectfully remained outside the gate.

Lying on the roof tiles of the third courtyard, Feng Zhiwei heard footsteps and turned her head. Her eyes narrowed.

It was shockingly Ning Ji and his son whom she had encountered during the day.

Late at night, this abandoned prince’s mansion—the people who came were stranger than the last!

Ning Ji’s expression didn’t look like he had an appointment. He held the child’s hand and carried a box, slowly walking inside. He went all the way to the third courtyard’s garden and stopped at a white stone table. From the box, he took out some dishes of fruit, set them out, and lit three incense sticks.

He pressed his palms together, bowed to the incense, then turned to instruct the child: “Qi’er, you should also bow.”

The child obediently came forward, bowing with his small fists. Ning Ji approvingly patted his head, then took out some paper money from the box and silently burned it on the ground.

On the roof tiles, Feng Zhiwei watched with confusion. Clearly, Ning Ji was making offerings to the deceased, but who was this deceased person that he dared not openly worship, yet secretly burned paper here? It was truly strange.

The firelight rose, emitting pale silver smoke. The child crouched down, asking in a childish voice: “Father, is this burning paper for Grandmother Consort?”

“No.” Ning Ji slowly added paper. “This is for your… uncle, Third Uncle.”

The child blinked at him, having no concept of this “Third Uncle” at all.

“Actually, I’m also burning paper on someone else’s behalf. I’m not familiar with your Third Uncle either.” Ning Ji smiled bitterly. “He died when I was still young. I don’t remember what he looked like at all.”

The child picked up paper money, playfully tossing it into the fire, giggling continuously. Ning Ji looked at him gently without reproach, only muttering to himself: “Though I don’t remember him, he protected Sixth Brother back then. Sixth Brother could grow up safely thanks to his help. Later, Sixth Brother protected me. Without him, there would be no Sixth Brother, and naturally no good life for me. So he is also my benefactor.”

He burned paper money one by one, his tone gentle. “…Third Brother, don’t blame Sixth Brother. He holds a high position, and his background differs from others. Every move is watched by countless people. These years haven’t been easy for him. It’s inconvenient for him to come worship you. I’ll come. I’ll burn more paper money for you on his behalf. In heaven, please bless him more.”

By this point, Feng Zhiwei understood completely.

So today was the death anniversary of the Third Prince who died in the military rebellion years ago.

That prince who died earliest in the dynasty—rather than saying he died from defeat in battle, it was better to say he died from fraternal rivalry and scheming. The youth who was forced to watch his only loving brother die at the bridge could only help him take revenge years later, yet could only keep it hidden. Even on the annual death anniversary, only an unrelated younger brother could come to offer worship on his behalf.

Speaking of which, Ning Ji and Ning Yi were somewhat like the Third Prince and Ning Yi of years past—rare brotherly affection in the imperial family.

She was feeling melancholy when her eyes suddenly focused.

Ning Ji, who was burning paper, also turned his head.

The pale gray smoke curled and dispersed. A figure emerged from behind the corridor pillars. Her unique gait was naturally graceful. Even appearing in the smoke and firelight dressed in night clothes, she seemed as elegant as the Goddess of Luo walking on water.

Ning Ji was stunned, recognizing her. With a somewhat surprised yet not entirely surprised expression, he said in a low voice: “…Your Ladyship, why are you here now…”

Consort Qing’s gaze swept across his face, then landed on the child’s face, staring unblinkingly. She smiled gently: “…Earlier I saw him and felt his complexion wasn’t quite right. I was worried he might catch cold. The more I thought about it, the less I could sleep. Then I remembered tonight was this day, so you might come out. I waited here first.”

Ning Ji looked down at the child, saying vaguely: “He’s fine, otherwise I couldn’t bring him out… don’t worry…” Then he pushed the child forward gently: “Go see Consort Qing.”

Consort Qing crouched down, opening her arms toward the child. The expression on her face no longer held the noble arrogance of daytime. Her eyes showed urgent eagerness like a tide, ready to drown the child before her.

The child must have been frequently brought into the palace by him and wasn’t shy. He smiled and greeted Consort Qing, saying in a childish voice: “This child pays respects to Your Ladyship—”

Before he finished speaking, Consort Qing suddenly embraced him. Her strength was so fierce that the child was startled, looking back at Ning Ji anxiously with a pout ready to cry. Ning Ji gave him a reassuring smile.

On the roof tiles, Feng Zhiwei narrowed her eyes.

Crouching Consort Qing faced her directly. She could clearly see the shock on Consort Qing’s expression the moment she embraced the child, see her tightly hold his small body, the warmth and indulgence in her eyes.

Feng Zhiwei suddenly pulled her face covering higher, then without hesitation leaped down!

She drifted down lightly as a willow leaf in the wind. Her hand reached out to grab the child!

Consort Qing was greatly alarmed. Holding the child, she retreated backward. Ning Ji had already rushed over in panic, shouting sternly: “Who are you? Stop!”

Feng Zhiwei waved her hand, signaling the Xue Futu who followed her to restrain Ning Ji without harming him. She herself focused on Consort Qing. Holding the child, Consort Qing frantically ran toward the front courtyard. Feng Zhiwei pursued relentlessly, following her like a ghost, every strike a killing move aimed directly at the child in her arms.

Tonight she had a question in her heart that she must force out!

Sure enough, Consort Qing valued the child more than her own life. When Feng Zhiwei struck with killing intent, she desperately blocked. Her martial arts were already inferior to Feng Zhiwei’s by a level. Distracted further, she became even more unable to cope. Within a few moves, with a “rip,” her sleeve was torn by Feng Zhiwei’s palm wind. A long bloody wound immediately appeared on her snow-white skin.

Seeing blood, the child burst into wailing tears. Consort Qing looked back in alarm, her hair disheveled, extremely bedraggled.

Feng Zhiwei’s eyes flashed. Her heart’s suspicion was already seventy to eighty percent certain. She simply made one final ruthless move to settle things. Suddenly giving a cold laugh, her five fingers formed claws, falling toward the child’s crown!

Five fingers reached out. Consort Qing suddenly turned her head!

In that instant, her eyes didn’t look at the child nor at the assassin, but strangely looked toward the main gate.

Then she put down the child! Her body flashed and had already crossed the corridor out of sight!

The child tumbled down. Feng Zhiwei couldn’t stop her momentum. Her five fingers fell straight toward his head!

Behind her came Ning Ji’s hoarse shout: “Don’t kill him—”

At this moment, Feng Zhiwei’s heart was shocked. She never expected Consort Qing would actually abandon the child to face her killing strike. In the chaos, she couldn’t pursue Consort Qing and desperately tried to stop her momentum.

Before her eyes, a figure suddenly flashed—a blue shadow swept over like lightning. Seeing this scene, his eyes immediately turned cold. Without a word, he raised his palm and struck directly at Feng Zhiwei’s chest.

At this moment, Feng Zhiwei’s entire focus was on withdrawing her internal force. Her old strength had just retreated and new strength hadn’t yet formed—her dantian was most empty. This person came in furious rage with fierce palm power rolling like angry waves. Feng Zhiwei only felt her breath choke and chest hurt. With a “wa,” she spat out fresh blood, staggering back several steps. The child under her hand was also snatched away by that person and protected in his arms.

Feng Zhiwei stood in place, looking at the direction where Consort Qing had disappeared, covering her faintly aching chest with one hand. She held no resentment toward this person who suddenly appeared to save the child. If he hadn’t acted quickly, even if she had stopped in time, she would have inevitably harmed the child. This person was presumably Ning Ji’s friend. His angry attack on her was normal. She only resented Consort Qing—never expecting this woman would actually put down the child and take advantage of the chaos to slip away!

She first made a show of valuing the child, then suddenly let go. She must have seen reinforcements had arrived, deliberately causing her injury.

She, Feng Zhiwei, had roamed the jianghu and traversed the court, never suffering such a great loss.

Feng Zhiwei bit her teeth and gave a cold laugh, wiping the blood from her lips. At this moment, her heart was also somewhat uncertain. Originally, watching Consort Qing desperately protect the child, a suspicion in her heart was nearly confirmed. But then she actually dared put down the child at that critical moment, seemingly not caring about his safety at all—was her earlier anxiety an act, or was letting go later the act?

Sweetness rose in her throat. Her head spun. She coughed lightly a few times, knowing the injury was serious. She didn’t dare linger and turned to leave.

She wanted to leave, but the other party wouldn’t let her. Ning Ji angrily ordered the guards who arrived: “Capture this assassin who tried to murder the heir!”

Feng Zhiwei gave a cold laugh and leaped away.

Behind her, wind sounded. Someone who started later arrived first—it was the blue-clothed masked man from before. He also gave a low cold laugh and reached out to tear her face covering.

Feng Zhiwei blocked with her arm. That person pressed close, his arm flexibly turning. He had already escaped her attack from a strange angle, emerging from beneath her elbow. His finger joints curved like an eagle’s beak, striking toward her jaw!

This strike was swift as lightning. At such close distance, it even created a wind sound, clearly with concentrated true force. If struck, her jaw would certainly be pierced through. Feng Zhiwei had no choice but to tilt her head back, doing an iron bridge to flip backward.

Behind her was Ning Ji. Seeing her fall backward, he immediately stepped forward and tore off her face covering!

At the same time, the blue-clothed person’s roaring palm force attacked her face again. The force was like a mountain pressing down. Feng Zhiwei’s vision went black. She barely managed to twist, her fingers sweeping through mid-air, also tearing off the other party’s face covering.

Then she heard Ning Ji’s joyful cry: “Sixth Brother, it’s you—”

Feng Zhiwei, gripping the face covering, was about to look up when she heard this and froze in place.

That person, his palm half-struck out, his gaze falling on Feng Zhiwei’s face, was stunned for a moment.

In the chaos, he hastily twisted his body. With a boom, that palm struck the false mountain rock beside him. Shattered stone and ash fell all over him.

After saving the person, he was busy throwing Yan Huaishi to Hua Qiong, while brushing off his clothes and muttering in dissatisfaction.

“Always making me catch people.”

He seemed extremely dissatisfied with that Fire Phoenix uniform, constantly pulling and tugging, trying to make the clothes looser and more comfortable.

Hua Qiong stood dazed, catching Yan Huaishi. He hadn’t been injured—the massive impact force had merely knocked him unconscious. Hua Qiong looked at his pale face and thin cheeks, thinking of his worries and suffering during this time. Her heart softened, and her hands softened too. In the end, she didn’t throw Yan Huaishi on the ground.

Sighing deeply, Hua Qiong handed Yan Huaishi to her personal guards. She dismounted and clasped her fists toward that person: “Thank you, Brother Gu.”

Gu Nanyi, wearing a mask, raised his head. Still in that dry tone, he said: “What you do for her won’t be done in vain either.”

He spoke without context, but Hua Qiong understood. That year when she took up her post in Minnan, at the Wei mansion’s farewell banquet, Gu Nanyi had unprecedentedly picked up a chopstick of food for her. At that time, she accepted this once-in-a-lifetime gesture of goodwill and replied to him: “Don’t worry, I won’t eat this bite of food from you for nothing.”

Now Gu Nanyi had answered her words.

She smiled slightly, stroking her neatly trimmed short hair, squinting toward the direction of the Imperial Capital, saying lowly: “I wonder how she’s doing now…”

Gu Nanyi stood shoulder to shoulder with her, turning his face to look seriously at the layered clouds on the horizon, as if intending to see through those thick clouds to the turbulent Imperial Capital, to see her within the capital—composed yet deadly.

The person missed by comrades a thousand miles away had recently been miserably recuperating from injuries.

That palm strike from Ning Yi came in anger, delivered without mercy. Feng Zhiwei was seriously injured. If not for her abundance of miraculous medicines, she might have been bedridden for half a year.

She couldn’t enter the palace. She reported to the palace that she had caught a seasonal illness. The Tiansheng Emperor bestowed many medicinal materials on her with great comfort. The Emperor’s favor was the weathervane for court officials. For a time, her visitors were endless. Though it was improper to visit a widow’s residence directly, the supplements and medicines sent filled three entire halls.

Others’ medicines were one thing, but what Prince Chu’s mansion sent was different—a small brocade box containing a black bottle with a sinister color, looking more like poison than medicine. Ning Yi had someone barge directly into Shunyi Prince’s mansion all the way to her window, as if afraid she would refuse. All the guards around Feng Zhiwei advised her not to rashly use the medicine. Feng Zhiwei looked at the medicine bottle and smiled.

Why shouldn’t she use it? If Ning Yi wanted to kill her, he never needed to be this troublesome.

She couldn’t stake this useful body on stubbornness.

Without a word, she used the medicine. If it was right for the ailment, it was good. That very night, she vomited out two mouthfuls of congealed blood and felt much lighter.

She didn’t know that on that night, someone stood on a distant eave watching the lamp in her room, watching her maid carry out the basin with vomited blood. Only then did he let out a long breath, lifting his robe hem dampened by night dew, quietly departing.

The moon-white figure melting into the darkness—while here, Feng Zhiwei tossed and turned unable to sleep, getting up to read secret reports.

The events at Anlang Cove and beneath Zhou City had already reached her desk. Feng Zhiwei read those two secret reports carefully and carefully, finally giving a soft sigh.

It was merely another battle between her and Ning Yi across a thousand miles.

Ning Yi held Yan Huaishi hostage to control Hua Qiong, thereby striking Fire Phoenix’s morale. It must be said that Ning Yi’s grasp of human hearts was always extremely accurate. With one letter on the Anlang Sea, he made Yan Huaishi willingly follow him.

She had anticipated this. Ning Yi understood Yan Huaishi, but didn’t she understand him too? If he couldn’t be forcibly detained at sea, she yielded. Beneath Zhou City was another true rescue.

She understood Hua Qiong—rather break jade than remain whole tile. When unable to balance both duty and affection, she would more likely choose a desperate path to inspire morale. So she had asked Gu Nanyi to come early.

Even so, looking at the secret report describing everything in detail, she still broke out in a cold sweat.

The danger at that moment—life hanging by a thread. If one step went wrong, the regret would be unfathomable.

Now it seemed she had the upper hand, but Ning Yi hadn’t lost either. That move of Yan Huaishi deceiving from the city wall had some impact on Fire Phoenix. The stirred-up morale took a hit. Facing the already-prepared Zhou City, Fire Phoenix failed to take it in one battle. This was the first time Fire Phoenix’s unstoppable military momentum was blocked. Currently, both sides were still in stalemate.

Feng Zhiwei’s fingers lightly tapped the edge of the military report, her eyes complex.

Ning Yi knew too many of her secrets, even knew too many secrets of her most important comrades. She let Ning Yi go, which actually meant placing her comrades in danger.

Though Ning Yi’s consistent attitude was unwillingness to completely break with her, preferring mutual restraint, the battlefield was perilous with many variables. Who could guarantee there wouldn’t be a misstep leading to dire consequences?

Like Yan Huaishi and Hua Qiong above and below Zhou City.

Her soft heart—what weakened might not only be her own life, but possibly also her relatives and friends’. Should she really be indecisive, waiting until a grave mistake was made before regretting it?

Kill? Not kill? Kill? Not kill? Kill? Not kill?

Again this eternally unsolvable question…

“I’ll help you kill him.”

As if knowing her inner question, a hoarse voice suddenly appeared beneath her window!

Feng Zhiwei was greatly alarmed, sitting up sharply and demanding: “Who!”

On all sides, the sound of rustling clothes rose. In an instant, her room was completely surrounded—highly efficient. But Feng Zhiwei had already frowned.

Even if she was hard of hearing while ill, with Xue Futu’s years of trained concealment and defensive ability, how could someone approach this close before being detected?

With a creak, the window was slowly pushed open by someone, and a person walked in calmly.

He wore ordinary blue robes and an ordinary mask, tall in stature. His movements were efficient and light yet completely silent. Feng Zhiwei watched him walk over—though his attire was ordinary, the feeling was like a mass of black fog drifting from the horizon, impossible to see clearly or discern—an aura of concealment.

Feng Zhiwei sat without moving. Since the other party could approach her side, whatever she did would be futile.

That person looked at her heavily. Standing there, the surrounding air seemed to grow colder, with a faintly oppressive aura descending and spreading, forcing one unable to move.

“You’re good.” After a long while, he spoke—still that somewhat affected hoarse voice. “Steady enough. You truly deserve it.”

The words were without context. Feng Zhiwei smiled and said: “Honorable guest visiting late at night—what advice do you have? Why not sit down for detailed discussion?”

“Your chairs probably aren’t for casual sitting.” That person said indifferently. “I came to make a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

“That person you want to kill but can’t.” He said. “I’ll do it.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled again and asked: “Reason?”

That person raised his face as if in thought. Starlight spilled into his eyes—they were gray, lifeless eyes, as if sealed by years and dried out long ago, without a trace of life’s vitality.

He said slowly: “I’ve thought for a long time. I must do something. Not to atone or help, but just need you to promise me one thing in the future.”

“What thing?”

“Can’t say now.” He shook his head. “In any case, rest assured—for you, for anyone, it’s harmless.”

Feng Zhiwei remained silent for a long while before saying: “Why do you want to kill him?”

“As long as he exists,” the man said lightly, “your great enterprise can forget about succeeding. All your relatives and friends, everyone you care about, must die.”

“That’s my business. I’m asking why you want to kill him.”

The man fell silent and didn’t answer.

“I can do this myself.” Feng Zhiwei leaned back on the bed, turning her face away. “Thank you for your kind intention. Please leave.”

That person didn’t speak, still looking at her heavily. The window was half-open, revealing the tense, solemn faces of the Xue Futu guards surrounding the room. Behind them, a white butterfly on an oblique protruding apricot branch suddenly fell silently.

“Just now I said you were good.” The moment the butterfly hit the ground, the man said lightly. “Now I think your defeat is certain.”

“I just don’t like entrusting matters of life and death to a stranger of unknown origin,” Feng Zhiwei said coldly.

Though she was speaking coldly, her heart grew colder and colder, because only now did she confirm that the true number one under heaven was not Gu Nanyi.

It was the person before her eyes.

What kind of variable would the sudden appearance of such a seemingly friend-seeming foe person portend?

That man seemed to smile. His mask moved slightly. Then his finger suddenly flicked forward.

The moment he moved, the Xue Futu guards outside the window immediately moved. With a “cha,” several long spears flashed out from the wall like lightning, stabbing straight at the man’s back!

As his finger flicked and the spear points pierced, Feng Zhiwei slapped the bed board. The head of the bed suddenly folded, raising a horizontal board. Then her body ducked behind that board and retreated backward.

The series of actions happened simultaneously, fast as lightning. Yet the man acted as if he already knew what Xue Futu would do. As his finger flicked, his left leg lifted emptily, hovering and stepping across. His right leg kicked horizontally without sound.

His left leg stepped onto those spear points. Then without seeming to use force, those fine steel spear points suddenly fell silently as if made of wax.

His right leg simultaneously kicked. The horizontal board shattered with a boom.

In the wood chips and dust, his extended fingers were like several streaming light shadows, landing precisely on Feng Zhiwei’s throat, not off by a hair.

The spear points only now hit the ground.

Several movements were unremarkable, yet extremely fast, accurate, and timely—not like human emergency response, but more like long-hammered instinct.

Feng Zhiwei sat motionless on the bed.

Though still three feet apart, with the other party’s finger force lightly constricting, her throat tightened and breathing immediately stopped.

With her restrained, Xue Futu immediately dared not move again. Her guard captain’s eyes showed confusion and incomprehension. He believed their guarding and defense were unmatched under heaven, yet this person was as familiar with their techniques as with his own cabbage patch.

The window was half-open. The man stood across the bed in a corner, arm extended, virtually pinching Feng Zhiwei’s throat from afar. From the window’s angle, his figure wasn’t easily visible.

This person also seemed accustomed to concealment and staying away from others’ sides, especially the side of the scheming Feng Zhiwei.

He virtually pinched Feng Zhiwei’s throat, his eyes slowly searching up and down the bedside. Suddenly his gaze focused. His finger force flicked. Feng Zhiwei’s pillow suddenly exploded.

Whoosh whoosh—several sounds. Several black small arrows suddenly flew from the exploded pillow, about to pierce Feng Zhiwei’s back as she sat unable to move on the bed. That man still seemed to have anticipated it. His fingers plucked like strings, flicking continuously, deflecting the small arrows.

Several items fell from the exploded pillow. That person smiled slightly but still didn’t retrieve them himself. Instead, his sleeve flicked.

Those items were swept by him into Feng Zhiwei’s palm. Feng Zhiwei’s face changed.

This guy was too cautious! After dodging flying arrows, he still worried these items might be poisoned!

That person’s sleeve moved slightly. Feng Zhiwei’s hand seemed controlled by someone pulling strings, slowly passing the items in her palm over.

That person bent his face down, carefully examining her palm, confirming there was no poison. Only then did he make a satisfied “mm” sound and tuck the items into his sleeve.

Those items were scattered—a brocade pouch, a bamboo tube, crystal fragments.

If Ning Cheng were here, he could immediately recognize these were the items Feng Zhiwei had shown him in the capital garrison prison.

That person collected the items and nodded: “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Then he looked around on all sides. Lifting his foot, he stepped out through the rear window. The rear window was clearly very narrow, yet his large frame passed through naturally without even breaking the window paper. The Xue Futu guard stationed by the narrow window swung his blade horizontally—this was the excellent method of guarding the narrow window to prevent entry or exit. That person was again a step faster. Something hard in his sleeve met it fiercely. With a clang, the blade fell. He had already exited the window and in the blink of an eye was ten zhang away.

On the bed, Feng Zhiwei watched his movement technique unblinkingly, turned her head to look at her exploded pillow, and after a long while gave a sigh.

Meanwhile, on distant eaves, several men who had been lying in wait watching the scene inside the window were turning to urgently instruct their subordinates: “Quickly report to His Highness—someone just broke into Shunyi Prince’s inner chamber. The Grand Consort handed some objects to this person, including a bamboo tube…” He carefully considered what he’d seen through the telescope, saying uncertainly: “A brocade pouch, and crystal or glass fragments. Before that person left, he seemed to say, ‘thank you for cooperating’…”

The message reached Prince Chu’s mansion half an hour later. In his study, Ning Yi, who had just returned and just prepared to sleep for a while, immediately sat up.

He sat dazed in the darkness for a long time, refusing his subordinate’s offer to light lamps, coldly driving everyone out. The study became silent—filled with darkness too thick to cut through.

In the darkness, something glimmered faintly.

In the darkness, someone’s breathing was light and rapid, as if somewhere a tearing pain was occurring.

A very long time later, a voice as deep and trembling as a dream drifted through the darkness.

“Zhiwei… Zhiwei…”

Feng Zhiwei didn’t hear this call darker than darkness itself, yet she too was immersed in shock after the visitor left, not closing her eyes.

She sank into the night’s silence, her gaze bright, as if listening to those sounds of wind and cloud stirring in the depths of the imperial city.

Near dawn, the Xue Futu guard responsible for investigating information came to report: “Master, just now a team of guards not wearing waist badges, bringing troops from Huwei Garrison, went to Prince Chu’s mansion.”

Feng Zhiwei lowered her eyes, lightly making a “mm” sound, then said: “Prepare the sedan chair.”

The Xue Futu guard was somewhat surprised she would go out before recovering from her injuries, but wouldn’t say anything. He turned to instruct people to prepare the sedan chair.

Feng Zhiwei rose to dress, seriously drawing eyebrows and dotting lips. Though still sallow-faced with drooping brows, it was rare for her to apply makeup so carefully.

In the bronze mirror, the woman at first glance seemed unremarkable, but looking carefully, her features were stunning. Only between her dark brows, there was a faint gray-white complexion with some sorrowful appearance. Feng Zhiwei frowned and lightly applied rouge, spreading a thin layer of red.

The illuminated space between her brows couldn’t lock away the dark, deep expression in her eyes. Outside the window, apricot blossoms bloomed gorgeously—deep red and profuse.

Then she went out and boarded the sedan chair, saying: “Prince Chu’s mansion.”

The sedan bearers were stunned, thinking she didn’t know. Kindly reminding her: “Grand Consort, Prince Chu’s mansion apparently had an incident. Early this morning it was surrounded. Three streets are sealed—no one allowed in or out. You…”

“Prince Chu’s mansion.”

The sedan bearers fell silent, only now knowing that gentle people could be terrifying when stubborn.

The sedan chair proceeded all the way. Passing through the most bustling Nine Dragon Street, they saw teahouses and wine shops packed full. Some well-informed people scurried about with secretive expressions, circulating today’s most shocking imperial upheaval.

She vaguely heard a few sentences.

“…My master was on night duty at the palace last night. He came home at midnight. Apparently His Majesty issued an edict overnight…”

“Early this morning, Huwei mobilized…”

“Three entire streets full of soldiers—won’t let anyone in!”

Feng Zhiwei lowered the curtain. Sunlight fell faintly through the curtain’s sparse shadows, blurring the expression between her brows.

That person moved so quickly.

Not giving Ning Yi any time to react at all.

Was it also to avoid giving her time to hesitate and waver?

She closed her eyes, leaning lightly against the wall. The sedan suddenly jolted. Someone’s questioning voice came. They had already reached three streets outside Prince Chu’s mansion.

She stuck her head out, pointing at the marking on the sedan chair.

The golden lion emblem of Shunyi Prince’s mansion gleamed brilliantly. To show honor, Shunyi Prince’s vehicles could travel any road in the capital except the imperial palace.

The soldiers guarding the street were from Huwei Battalion. Seeing this, they looked troubled, hesitating before going to ask their superiors. Soon a captain hurried over, standing beside the sedan and quietly persuading: “Grand Consort, His Majesty strictly ordered that no one may approach Prince Chu’s mansion…” While thinking that as disaster struck in an instant with the great tree about to fall, why would this Grand Consort, who normally had no known connection with Prince Chu, insist on going in?

“I have a relative in Prince Chu’s mansion.” Feng Zhiwei raised her chin. The steward following on horseback immediately stuffed a large-denomination banknote into the other party’s hand. “At least let me go in to give a word of warning.”

That captain was stunned. In his heart, he knew these Imperial Capital nobles had interwoven relationships. Probably the Grand Consort feared being implicated with Prince Chu’s disaster and wanted to come handle things in advance. Thinking this, he believed he understood the situation. Discreetly pocketing the banknote, he stepped aside, yet warned: “Please, Grand Consort, go quickly and return quickly. His Majesty’s subsequent edicts will probably arrive soon.”

Feng Zhiwei nodded, lowering the curtain. The sedan chair passed through the street. On all sides, three layers inside and three layers outside were surrounded watertight—all Jinyu and Huwei soldiers. Not a single soldier from Changying Guard, Imperial Guard, or Nine Cities Commandery that Ning Yi controlled was present.

The sedan stopped before Prince Chu’s mansion gate. The mansion’s great doors were tightly shut. Traces of the recent wedding celebration remained. A bit of residual red tassel fluttered on the black lacquered gate, evoking not joy but desolation.

Feng Zhiwei silently descended from the sedan, signaling the bearers and steward to remain outside. At this time, Prince Chu’s mansion probably had no one with the mind to receive visitors. She directly reached out to push the door.

The door opened by itself.

Prince Chu’s mansion’s steward stood behind the door, hands lowered.

Feng Zhiwei smiled and entered all the way. Inside Prince Chu’s mansion, there was no panicked state. The maids and servants she encountered along the way showed no surprise at seeing her. She turned through the hanging flower gate, walked through the long corridor, and suddenly stopped.

In the distance, Ning Yi stood with hands behind his back before the main hall.

Not a single servant around—he stood alone in snow-white robes. In the spring light, his eyes were lacquer-black. Beneath that shade of eternal night, something was leaping intensely, like a volcano above a deep abyss—beneath the black magma, deep red sparks rolled.

Such a gaze looking over—Feng Zhiwei felt as if her heart was being poked by a burning iron rod.

Then she drew in a breath and calmly approached.

Ning Yi looked at her deeply, his gaze sweeping across the space between her brows. With rouge applied, one couldn’t tell her complexion. Even her lip color was vivid, as if the blood she’d spat out that night still lingered at her lips.

Before his eyes flashed that night’s blood. His heart felt as if branded, aching sharply. He wanted to say something, but it stuck in his chest like a blood clot, unable to emerge.

But Feng Zhiwei had already brushed past his shoulder and entered the main hall.

In the simply furnished main hall, on the offering table opposite the door, a white porcelain pot on a bright yellow silk tray was extremely glaring.

Feng Zhiwei stopped, looking at that wine pot. Though she had long anticipated it, her heart still sank heavily.

For an instant, she felt disbelief—could the Emperor truly be angry to this degree? And Ning Yi—was he truly so caught off guard, waiting for such a fate to descend?

She stopped at the doorway, gazing at that wine pot from afar. Her fingers beneath her sleeves unconsciously clenched tight, her palm slippery with moisture.

Her mind was somewhat chaotic. She didn’t even hear the footsteps behind her. By the time she felt that familiar luxuriant yet cool aura like falling flowers and snow, warmth touched her face—his cheek had already pressed close.

“Zhiwei.” His breathing was light, gently brushing her face. “Is your wish fulfilled? Are you very pleased?”

Feng Zhiwei didn’t move, didn’t speak. Ning Yi also said nothing more, using his face to lightly nuzzle her delicate neck, gradually moving upward to her lips. His burning breath against her slightly cool skin created fine trembling wherever it passed, like wind across jade water stirring ripples. Yet this wind wasn’t spring wind but the seasonal wind of late autumn and early winter. After this gust passed, the jade water would freeze.

Her sideburns were disheveled by his breath, the fine hairs falling to his lips, plated with sunlight’s golden glow, like broken zither strings. He gave a low laugh, using his teeth to catch that hair, tilting his head slightly to pull. She reached to protect it. He released it again, taking her pearl-like earlobe between his lips.

Intimate as lovers.

Before a pot of poisoned wine.

Before a pot of poisoned wine he believed she had sent.

Before a pot of poisoned wine he believed she had sent, intending to take his life and topple his power.

In the sunlight, the embracing figures were so enchanting, looking like a pair of lovers unable to restrain their deep feelings. His face buried deeply in her shoulder—that tilted angle was the most beautiful arc in the world, making one willing to die within it.

“…You heartless woman…” The muffled murmur came from behind. Then Feng Zhiwei felt pain in her shoulder. She cried out softly. Her shoulder turned. Ning Yi had already let go, smiling broadly.

Feng Zhiwei’s fingers slowly pressed her shoulder, feeling the uneven surface—a deep tooth mark.

“I thought your heart and body were made of iron.” Ning Yi looked at her with a half-smile, his finger pointing at his own lips. “Turns out you’re still flesh and blood. I suppose only your heart is made of steel.”

“Didn’t Your Highness know until today what Zhiwei’s heart is made of?” Feng Zhiwei turned her head with a graceful smile. “Probably Your Highness previously refused to see clearly. If so, today let Your Highness see plainly.”

She walked forward slowly and took the wine pot, pouring wine.

The wine’s aroma was strong. She could smell the poisonous stench within.

The hall was silent. The sound of wine falling into cups was startling to hear.

“This humble consort respectfully presents this cup, congratulating the three hundred seventy-two people of Prince Chu’s mansion on journeying together today to the Yellow Springs in drunken dreams of life and death.” She turned around, ten fingers slender, raising a golden goblet, smiling gently.

“Thank you.” He accepted the poisoned wine, eyebrows slanting upward. Looking at her with tender eyes: “However, I apologize for only notifying you now—on the road to the Yellow Springs, you must journey together with me… my new Princess Consort.”

Feng Zhiwei’s hand offering wine paused in mid-air.

After a long moment, she slowly raised her eyebrows.

“New Princess Consort?”

Ning Yi’s smile at his lips deepened, yet he didn’t speak. His finger vibrated. A roll of yellow soft silk fell from his sleeve.

Feng Zhiwei knew at a glance it was an imperial edict.

Ning Yi nodded his chin, indicating she should open it herself, saying lightly: “You always give me surprises. Today I also return you one.”

Feng Zhiwei stared at that edict. After a long while, her finger flicked. The soft silk spread open on the table.

Her gaze swept across it. Her face instantly paled, then she showed a strange smile.

“Your Highness is truly thoughtful…” she said softly. “Even in death, you must drag me along.”

“Last night I received news.” Ning Yi’s finger lightly brushed across the soft silk. “So I took advantage of the night to enter the palace and requested this edict from His Majesty.”

Feng Zhiwei drew in a breath, lowering her eyes in silence. Last night, the well-informed Ning Yi must have learned of her “collusion” with someone to plot against him. Time was pressing. He didn’t try to conceal or respond. Instead, he directly entered the palace, and before the other party could make their move, he requested the Tiansheng Emperor to marry her as his wife.

With great disaster looming, he did nothing except tie her to his rope. If she wanted to save herself, naturally it meant saving him.

“Last night, Father Emperor was in good spirits and received me.” Ning Yi smiled. “I told him that entering the palace late at night was truly an inappropriate request. Your son has been tossing and turning over a woman, so lovesick he’s ill unto death. We truly cannot be separated, our mutual feelings are deep. Father Emperor must save your son.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled bitterly.

“Father Emperor naturally thought it absurd at first. But I’ve done more absurd things. Since I could marry a divorced woman as side consort, why couldn’t I marry a widow who’s greatly useful to the dynasty as principal consort?” Ning Yi smiled gently. “Zhiwei, you know—Father Emperor’s mind is full of schemes about Shunyi’s cavalry. He’s worried you might have divided loyalties. Once you become an imperial daughter-in-law, the grasslands naturally belong to the dynasty. Of course, he was very willing.”

“Then.” He spread his hand, comfortably sitting down in the chair behind Feng Zhiwei. “At the second night watch, I entered the palace and requested this from His Majesty. He immediately had Haoyun Pavilion issue the edict. At the fourth watch, someone entered the palace to report. His Majesty in great rage issued an edict to poison me. He’s old, sleeping groggily when woken. In his fury, how could he remember that just two hours ago, I had just acquired a new Princess Consort? This Princess Consort’s fate is truly unfortunate. Before even entering the gate, she must unjustly accompany me in death.”

He smiled, raising his wine cup and bringing it to Feng Zhiwei’s lips, his eyes and brows full of spring, his countenance like flowers.

Feng Zhiwei looked at the jade-green wine liquid in the cup. In the clear wine water, each other’s faces were reflected—those brows and eyes, all swaying with the waves, blurred and indistinct. No one could see anyone clearly.

“So Your Highness isn’t afraid of death. You’re only afraid of not dying together with me.” She smiled, taking the wine cup.

“Correct.” Ning Yi picked up another wine cup. “Several years ago, I told you—one of us hot, one cold. When we reach the imperial tombs and lie together, we’ll be neither hot nor cold. Now thinking about it, there are no imperial tombs, but a grave is the same. As long as I sleep together with you, I don’t care where I sleep.”

Then he tilted his head and loudly called out: “Is it ready?”

“Yes!”

Outside came a burst of chaotic footsteps. With several swishing sounds, several large strips of deep red brocade suddenly hung down from the crossbeam, all embroidered with the character for “double happiness.” Immediately, the surroundings were brilliantly illuminated in vivid red. Several servants hurried over, carrying deep red carpets and quickly laying them on the ground. A group of servants streamed in like water, placing fruit platters, candle stands, seasonal flowers one by one—all affixed with “double happiness” characters. Outside the door, a canopy had been erected at some point. A group of musicians sat down, plucking strings and blowing pipes, beginning to play the joyous “Joy Comes to the Gate.”

The series of movements were organized, swift, and efficient. Feng Zhiwei only blinked a few times. This hall that had just been deathly pale was now decorated as a wedding hall.

She stood dazed there, staring at that vivid red, stunned by Ning Yi’s continuous surprising moves today.

But Ning Yi had remained composed throughout, as if his wish fulfilled, life and death no longer mattered. Smiling, he held his wine cup and said: “Beloved consort, such a hasty approach to a major marriage event truly slights you. But your husband faces great calamity, life and death in an instant. I cannot perform those empty ceremonies and formalities. Fortunately, our hearts are one. In life, we have proper status; in death, we can share a grave. Those worldly complicated rituals will soon have nothing to do with us. Come, drain this cup—consider it our nuptial wine!”

Speaking thus, he smiled and pulled her hand, took her cup, crossing arms. He was about to drink the wine.

Feng Zhiwei’s initial shock passed, and she regained her faint smile. At this moment, she showed no panic. She never believed Ning Yi would truly be willing to drink poisoned wine. All he wanted was to force out her trump card, force her to actively save him.

However, her expression immediately changed.

Ning Yi’s hand flipped. The wine in the cup poured into his mouth without hesitation!