As night fell over Changping Palace, the splendor flowed like brocade. Deep red tasseled palace lanterns lined both sides of the road from the main gate, winding their way forward—from afar, they looked like bright pearls from the heavens cascading down the Milky Way. Flowers with particularly soft, thick, and brilliant petals competed for beauty in the flowerbeds along the roadside, their petals glistening and flowing with light under the lamplight.
Changping Palace was not part of the inner court. It was a palace bestowed by the Xi Liang Emperor to the court’s pillar—the Regent Prince. Located beside the imperial city, it covered vast grounds with magnificent architecture, hardly inferior to the imperial palace itself. The southern people had bold and open customs, and their atmosphere was completely different from the strict Tiansheng court. Along the way, palace maids and servants shuttled back and forth, merely stepping aside and bowing when they encountered people, occasionally even hearing delicate laughter like ripples across clear water—this made one feel less constrained and more relaxed and open.
The banquet was set in the Hanging Flower Pavilion of the main hall, with dozens of low tables arranged in a row. Feng Zhiwei naturally occupied the first guest seat on the left. What was rare was that Gu Nanyi and Gu Zhixiao were actually arranged at the table beside her. This clearly violated protocol, but it also showed that the Regent Prince was well-informed, arranged matters meticulously, and was not a pedantic stickler for ceremony. Feng Zhiwei didn’t demur either, smiling as she raised her cup from afar, silently expressing her gratitude to the Regent Prince seated above.
The man above received her gaze and smiled kindly, his eyes pausing briefly on Gu Nanyi before imperceptibly withdrawing.
At this moment, the ceremonial officials at the hall entrance welcomed guests, the imperial music bureau performed in front of the hall, and after the guests and hosts were seated, the Regent Prince raised his cup with a smile. All the officials echoed him, toasting the Tiansheng envoys who had come from afar. Feng Zhiwei returned the toast. After a round of official formalities and ceremonial procedures, the impatient Lord Gu and his daughter finally got to eat.
The father and daughter buried their heads in the food on their tables, not caring at all that such banquets were meant for watching rather than eating. Before long, Gu Zhixiao had stuffed her little belly full and immediately couldn’t sit still, squirming in her father’s arms and looking around. Suddenly she heard a “psst” sound.
Gu Zhixiao turned her head and saw a child’s head suddenly pop out from behind a concealed screen in a corner of the great hall, making faces at her and sticking out his tongue.
The little Miss Gu’s eyes immediately lit up, but she didn’t respond. Very seriously, she turned back and ate a few more bites before saying to her father, “I’m full, need to go pee-pee.”
Young Master Gu was very focused when doing anything. He didn’t notice that the “psst” sound came from a child’s voice. While studying a dish that looked like it contained strange insects, he casually lifted his daughter down and set her to the side.
Since she could walk, Gu Zhixiao had been going to the toilet by herself. At first a servant accompanied her, but later she didn’t even want the servant. She’d never fallen into the toilet pit though, and Feng Zhiwei and Gu Nanyi’s approach to child-rearing had always been permissive, so Gu Nanyi didn’t plan to accompany his daughter to the toilet.
However, Feng Zhiwei noticed and, knowing the little one was going to the toilet, worried she might get lost in this unfamiliar place, so she pointed out a servant to follow.
Gu Zhixiao wobbled out of the hall with the servant. After walking just a few steps, she suddenly pointed to the left front and exclaimed in feigned alarm, “Oh no! A thief!”
The servant was startled and turned to look, but saw nothing. When she turned back, the little girl had disappeared.
The servant got a fright. For a moment she didn’t dare make a scene, nor did she dare to return to the hall and disturb such a solemn occasion, so she could only ask a few friendly servants to help her slowly search through the vast palace.
As soon as she left, a tiny body slowly climbed out from beneath the corridor railing. Little Miss Gu giggled as she crawled out, wrinkling her nose at the servant’s retreating figure.
She hadn’t run far at all—she’d just hidden in the flower bushes beneath the corridor. The servant hadn’t expected this little imp to hide right under her nose, and had been completely fooled into leaving.
Gu Zhixiao sat proudly on the corridor railing, swinging her two short legs, gazing solemnly into the distance. Behind her, a chubby boy of six or seven climbed out huffing and puffing, dragging two trails of snot. His eyes full of stars, he looked at her with worship and said, “You’re so smart!”
Gu Zhixiao disdainfully pushed him away. “Silly boy, what do you want?”
The chubby boy wiped his nose with his sleeve, chuckling, “My young master saw you and wants to play with you. Come with me, okay?” He reached to pull her sleeve.
“Who’s your young master?” Gu Zhixiao wasn’t buying it. She swished her sleeve back and even patted away nonexistent dust. “Tell him to come find me. I’m not going.”
“Da… da… da…” Suddenly another childish voice piped up, sounding even younger than the chubby boy and with unclear pronunciation, stickily and clingingingly “roaring,” “…daring!”
Gu Zhixiao turned around and saw a little child in brocade robes standing behind her, about the same age as herself, with dark rolling eyes. He was trying hard to widen them even more, glaring at her fiercely and scolding her: “Dog daring!”
Little Miss Gu looked at the little bean sprout. After a long moment, she laughed.
“Da-da-da-da-da-da-da… daring!” She imitated the child’s stutter. “Da-da-da-da… da… daring!”
“Da-da-da… daring!”
“Da-da-da-da-da-da-da…” Gu Zhixiao made a face.
“Da-da-da-da-da-da-da…” The child’s tongue immediately started to tangle.
Little Miss Gu clutched her belly, laughing and rolling on the ground.
“Daring!”
“Daring!”
“Daring!”
The child’s face turned red with anger. He repeated only this one phrase over and over, though it also seemed to be his most fluent phrase.
Gu Zhixiao held her belly, laughing so hard she rolled around, not noticing that the little child in brocade robes’ face was getting redder and redder, tears pooling in his eyes ready to fall. Suddenly he let out an “Aow!” and rushed forward with expert precision to stomp on her hand.
While Gu Zhixiao was having her first conflict with a child her own age, in the great hall, wine cups were being exchanged amid undercurrents of intrigue.
The Xi Liang officials, unwilling to accept two defeats at Feng Zhiwei’s hands, all wanted to regain face tonight. With the Regent Prince playing dumb and tacitly allowing it, they first adopted the tactic of forcing wine, hoping to get the envoy drunk so he’d make a fool of himself. As it turned out, the two vice-envoys and the general attendants were easy to intoxicate—get them drunk and they’d sleep, but they saw no embarrassing spectacle and had to provide rooms for them to rest. The main target, Marquis Wei, had an outrageously robust alcohol tolerance, truly capable of a thousand cups without getting drunk, ten thousand without falling. Over a hundred officials came forward in succession to toast, and not only did he drain every cup, he could calmly return the toast. After toasting with one cup, he wouldn’t stop there but wanted to toast three cups with you. After three cups, if he still wasn’t satisfied, he’d come with four more cups. After those four cups, when your eyes were turning blue and your steps were circling, this Marquis Wei still wanted to toast “five blessings” with you, not stopping until the Xi Liang official who’d been showing off collapsed completely at the hem of his robe.
After five or six officials learned this lesson the hard way, the rest no longer dared to follow suit. Marquis Wei stood in the center holding his cup with a smile, raising his wine cup high and turning to all four sides. All the officials shrank back in alarm, deeply resenting in their hearts—Heaven is unjust! Not only could they not match him in verbal sparring, scheming, and trickery, they couldn’t even win at drinking!
Feng Zhiwei held her cup with a smile and turned to all four sides, about to return to her seat quite dashingly. She had come prepared tonight—Zong Chen’s sobering pills worked wonderfully. Drink? Drink yourselves to death!
She had just turned around when she suddenly paused.
Among the countless silent seats on all sides, three people suddenly stood up.
One was the Grand Marshal Lu Rui seated in the first position on the right. That was acceptable, but the other two made her furrow her brow.
These two were not seated together, and their positions were quite inconspicuous. When the Regent Prince introduced them, he’d mentioned in passing that one seemed to be the magistrate of a remote county in Xi Liang’s southern territory, and the other was a third-generation descendant of an influential Xi Liang family. Both had come to the capital city on official business and happened to join this grand gathering. Supposedly, every banquet had people like this—unnoticed, hidden in corners, squeezing in to open their eyes and become familiar faces with important figures, so they’d have something to boast about later and might even make useful connections. Feng Zhiwei was accustomed to such scenes and hadn’t paid attention initially, just giving them a cursory glance. Those two had also been well-behaved, keeping to their places like their status dictated, shrinking into their positions.
However, now with her half-joking, half-challenging stance with raised cup, those two had actually stood up simultaneously.
Not only did they stand up simultaneously, but after standing, the two glanced at each other, as if neither had expected the other to stand. Both froze for a moment.
In that instant, their expressions hidden in the shadows seemed to spark, then vanished. Then both looked at Grand Marshal Lu Rui and sat back down together. As they sat, they glanced at each other again.
This series of actions was quite subtle indeed.
Feng Zhiwei’s eyes flashed. Only now did she carefully examine those two. They appeared quite ordinary in looks and dress, fitting their identities, except that both seemed to possess excellent bearing. One sat in silent composure with a refined, scholarly temperament. The other leaned slightly to the side, his folding fan casually tapping his palm with a lively manner. Earlier, when hidden in the shadows, they’d been inconspicuous, but now upon examination, their elegant demeanor stood out—they were certainly not ordinary among the crowd.
Those who had long held positions of power, even if they changed clothes and disguised themselves to mingle in the marketplace, would still have qualities that made them stand out like cranes among chickens.
Feng Zhiwei’s gaze swept past them and her attention had already turned to Grand Marshal Lu Rui, who was approaching with his cup. This man was different from her imagination. According to rumors, this Grand Marshal had been the late Xi Liang Emperor’s first minister. When the late Emperor died, he entrusted the young lord to him. Yet after the Regent Prince seized political power, he quickly switched allegiance to the Regent Prince’s camp, allowing the Regent Prince to control military and political authority while Imperial Concubine Dowager Dong controlled the inner palace. After joining the Regent Prince, he had even personally acted to eliminate a group of old ministers loyal to the late Emperor’s edict who firmly opposed the Regent Prince’s control of military power. Through this, he gained the Regent Prince’s trust and became the number one person in the Xi Liang court under the Regent Prince, relied upon as his right and left arms. In Feng Zhiwei’s imagination, such an opportunistic sycophant would surely have a wolfish gaze and hawk-like features with a sinister appearance. But seeing him today was quite unexpected—this was a refined man bordering on delicate weakness, with pale skin and delicate features that made him look almost feminine. His health also didn’t seem very good, as he frequently coughed during the banquet. Only occasionally when his gaze turned, his eyes flashed like lightning across the sky with stacked shadows, revealing the unique sharp edge belonging to a Xi Liang high minister.
At this moment, he approached slowly and unsteadily with an enormous wine cup, swaying from side to side, making one worry he might fall into the cup.
Feng Zhiwei stood still, watching him with a smile.
“Marquis Wei has an excellent alcohol tolerance.” Lu Rui squinted his eyes, speaking even more slowly. “I didn’t expect Marquis Wei to not only excel at political and military affairs, but also at drinking. With such a robust capacity, it must have been cultivated through frequent drinking at banquets in the Tiansheng official circles?”
This was mocking the Tiansheng official circles for being full of wine sacks and rice bags. Feng Zhiwei smiled and raised her cup with heartfelt emotion: “Official banquets are indeed frequent—this is true in all countries. Over time, one naturally develops such tolerance. When I came to this banquet today, I was originally quite apprehensive, thinking that facing all of Xi Liang’s esteemed colleagues, I would surely have to be helped back drunk and disheveled. I didn’t expect your country’s officials to be so modest, vying to prostrate themselves before me. It seems they attend banquets too rarely and lack practice? Well, yes… wine and meat are quite expensive after all. Hehe.”
These words were even harsher. Since you say we drink and banquet a lot, I’ll say you banquet rarely—because you’re too poor.
The Xi Liang officials looked at each other in dismay, their faces quite ugly. But Lu Rui didn’t get angry. He smiled softly and poured another cup, saying: “Marquis Wei, rest assured. Though wine and meat are expensive, we can still afford to treat Marquis Wei, though it’s rather crude. All these various arrangements cannot compare to your country’s licentious pleasures—hunting for entertainment, romantic pursuits, enjoying both men and women—the refined quality accumulated through such activities.”
Licentious pleasures, hunting for entertainment, romantic pursuits, enjoying both men and women… Wasn’t this Ning Yi’s reputation in the outside world?
Feng Zhiwei raised an eyebrow, first drinking this cup of wine, then filling Lu Rui’s cup with her own hand, smiling as she said: “My country’s customs are simple and honest, the court is upright and clear. These things you mentioned, Grand Marshal, I truly don’t understand where they come from. Perhaps the distance is great and information gets distorted through repeated telling. Actually, in my opinion…” She smiled and gestured toward the Xi Liang officials. “Some have waists three feet wide, some are as slender as willows. We can’t say they enjoy both men and women, but having men and women in the same hall certainly looks quite similar.”
“…”
The sound of Xi Liang officials gasping could be heard from far away—the Grand Marshal was already impolite enough, directly mocking a Tiansheng prince, but this Tiansheng envoy was even more daring, openly scolding the Grand Marshal as neither male nor female to his face!
Lu Rui stared at Feng Zhiwei for a long moment, then raised his hand and poured another cup. Feng Zhiwei furrowed her brow, thinking this bastard actually had considerable alcohol tolerance. After the first cup, he looked like he was about to collapse, but now he appeared exactly the same as after the first cup. And she didn’t seem to have offended him, so why was he being so relentlessly persistent?
Just as she was thinking to dismiss him with a few words and be done with it, Lu Rui had already raised another toast. This time his voice was very low: “Just a joke, yet Marquis Wei seems truly angry? Could it be I accidentally touched a sore spot?”
Feng Zhiwei fixed her gaze on him, drained the cup in one gulp, and smiled quite falsely. “Oh? Isn’t it the Grand Marshal who’s had his sore spot touched?”
Lu Rui ignored her and raised another cup. “Or perhaps Marquis Wei simply cannot tolerate me slandering Prince Chu?”
Feng Zhiwei drank it down decisively. “As a Tiansheng envoy, everyone from the Emperor down to commoners is under my devoted protection. Speaking of which, I’m quite surprised by the Grand Marshal’s demeanor. After all, you’re a high minister of a nation, yet you only love to cling to these unreliable street rumors. Has Xi Liang’s court business become so peaceful that there’s nothing to do?”
The two engaged in verbal sparring with needle-sharp retorts, yet the wine flowed faster and their words grew quieter. The officials throughout the hall looking over could only see that the two were competing at drinking. They all secretly laughed that the Grand Marshal had always been narrow-minded, especially harboring grudges when people said he looked like a woman. Today, the Tiansheng envoy had mortally offended him. Everyone felt a bit of schadenfreude, smiling as they raised their cups to watch. No one came over to join in.
Here, Lu Rui chuckled and raised another cup. “How much of Prince Chu’s rumors are true and how much false—I think only Marquis Wei knows most clearly. Though street rumors shouldn’t be trusted, they’re not necessarily unworthy of attention. For instance, I recently heard an interesting story about a certain country’s prince currently searching for an escaped concubine or something. Has Marquis Wei heard of this?”
Feng Zhiwei’s heart trembled. Only now did she understand Lu Rui’s true intention in coming to provoke her. She looked up at him. In his smiling eyes was a hint of cunning. She stared at that gaze, smiled, and nonchalantly filled both their cups, saying: “The Grand Marshal is truly thoughtful, able to painstakingly collect such remotely relevant anecdotes. Being in another country and bearing the heavy responsibility of envoy, I have no leisure to concern myself with such matters.”
“Marquis Wei naturally need not concern yourself. It’s enough for me to be concerned.” Lu Rui was truly capable of drinking vast amounts. After so many cups, his complexion was still that pale. “I received a royal command from the Regent Prince to help that prince investigate the whereabouts of that escaped concubine.”
Feng Zhiwei lowered her head to pour wine, a faint smile at the corner of her lips. But in her heart, she was thinking rapidly—what did Lu Rui mean? Clearly he already knew her female identity and knew about her entanglement with Jin Siyu. But from his tone, the Regent Prince didn’t know. Why hadn’t he reported it to the Regent Prince? And these words—seeming like a threat, seeming like a reminder, seeming like a warning—were they well-intentioned or malicious?
Her mind was momentarily in turmoil. This Xi Liang Grand Marshal had exceeded her expectations, turning out to be a deep and difficult character. For now, there was no need to rush to say anything. She’d just follow his lead and see what he really wanted to do.
“Is that so?” She smiled and drained another cup. “The Grand Marshal is truly working hard, personally handling even such trivial matters.”
“Yes indeed.” Lu Rui’s brow remained unfurrowed. “In the vast sea of people, where can one search? But I heard that escaped concubine is from Tiansheng. I wonder if I could trouble Marquis Wei to help search for her? If you have any news, please do inform me.”
Here it comes.
So this was Lu Rui’s true intention.
He threw out this important information, not to threaten, but to establish a private connection.
But why did he have to make such a show of being antagonistic and incompatible with her in front of all the officials? That held another layer of meaning.
Feng Zhiwei laughed quietly. That laugh deliberately carried a few degrees of coldness. She clinked her wine cup sharply against Lu Rui’s and said: “To be able to render the Grand Marshal even a small service would be my honor.”
Lu Rui chuckled. “More so mine. Let me toast Marquis Wei three cups in thanks.” After speaking, he poured and drank himself, draining three cups in succession. Casually showing Feng Zhiwei his empty cup bottom, he laughed heartily, turned, and slowly walked away.
He came suddenly, drank heartily, left casually. While Feng Zhiwei was still pondering with her wine cup in hand, he was already swaying away. The Xi Liang officials, seeing this, all felt he had gained the upper hand in the drinking competition with Feng Zhiwei. They immediately became elated, receiving him like a returning hero.
The Regent Prince was also quite pleased, bestowing wine on Lu Rui and conveniently toasting Feng Zhiwei as well. He then called for dancers. Xi Liang dancers were unparalleled in the world—their lotus steps danced like wind, their allure incomparable. The other Tiansheng envoys all stopped their cups to watch, their hearts and spirits swaying. But Feng Zhiwei had seen Consort Qing, who was the foremost among Xi Liang dancers. After that, no matter how stunning other dances were, they couldn’t compare to her natural seductive bearing. After watching with little interest for a while, the surrounding officials had gradually become excited. This also seemed to be Xi Liang custom—after the solemn formal banquet, sensual dancing signaled a relaxed atmosphere. The officials gradually began competing at drinking with each other, hooking shoulders, bleary-eyed, groping at dancers, holding cups while composing poetry in the great hall—a scene of drunken debauchery and uninhibited abandon, so noisy it was unbearable. Even the Regent Prince soon excused himself, saying he was too drunk to continue, and was helped into an inner chamber by the most beautiful dancer to “rest.”
A faint smile curved at the corner of Feng Zhiwei’s lips—official circles throughout the world were indeed all the same. Strip away the veneer of moralistic pretense, and underneath was the filthiest debauchery.
She looked around all four sides, somewhat wondering why Zhixiao hadn’t returned yet. Logically, even a major toilet trip should be finished by now. But she didn’t think anything had happened, because Changping Palace was full of people, and Gu Zhixiao wore Tiansheng clothing—anyone who saw her wouldn’t make things difficult. Still, she felt uneasy and leaned over to Gu Nanyi, who was slowly tasting Xi Liang sweet wine, saying: “Go find your Zhixiao.”
“What about you?” Young Master Gu was also somewhat worried about his daughter, but still asked about her first.
“What could happen to me?” Feng Zhiwei smiled. “No matter how much trouble the Regent Prince wants to give me, he absolutely wouldn’t dare let anything happen to me in Xi Liang territory. He wants friendly relations with Tiansheng, not war. Don’t worry.”
Young Master Gu thought for a moment and said: “I’ll be right back.” Then he left. Feng Zhiwei pushed away two dancers trying to press wine on her, picked up a cup, and strolled to a terrace connected to a corridor on the side of the hall. It was quiet here, with living water flowing gently on all sides, clear waves rippling. Stepping on the tung oil-painted corridor wood, her footsteps resonated clear and ethereal, carrying far into the distance.
Turning a corner, she reached the terrace. The broad water surface reflected glittering starlight, waves of cool breeze sweeping across the water, blowing the pale purple palace lanterns on flagpoles all around with ghostly light, like a sheet of pale purple silk spread across the white wooden floor.
But someone had already gotten there first.
That person leaned against the railing, standing by the lake facing the wind. The wind lifted his black hair like satin, his back tall and straight.
Feng Zhiwei stopped in her tracks, carefully examining that back. The next instant, she turned to leave.
“Shaoyao.”
A somewhat laughable form of address came from behind. Feng Zhiwei’s back stiffened, then she turned around with a somewhat confused smile: “Are you calling for some servant? Do you need me to help you find her?”
That person slowly turned around, half-leaning against the wooden railing, looking at her deeply. Though it was an unfamiliar face, his eyes held the same luminous depths as before. He looked at the young man in brocade robes and jade crown across from him, his gaze flashing with slight strangeness and pain for an instant before changing to calm, untroubled gentleness.
“I’m calling my escaped concubine.” He turned his gaze away, watching the shimmering waves on the lake. “She’s eighteen this year, from Tiansheng. In the fourteenth year of Changxi, she was captured by me at Baitou Cliff and willingly became my concubine. She lived with me for a long time in Puyuan in Pucheng, Great Yue, receiving my utmost favor. I planned to make her an official consort after the new year and was happily preparing the memorial to report to the court when she colluded with accomplices, infiltrated Puyuan, destroyed my lake, injured me, besieged my city, and furthermore returned again to thoroughly deceive me once more. She deceived me into believing she would loyally submit. She deceived me into taking her up the city tower to persuade the enemy forces to retreat. She deceived me into thinking that from then on, we could together survey these magnificent mountains and rivers hand in hand—then, before my eyes, she drew her bow, shattered the wall, leaped from the city, and escaped.”
The last eight words, he spoke one by one, like a heavy carved bow decisively smashing against the city wall of Suwei, pulverized, turned to ash.
Feng Zhiwei stood silently with hands behind her back, listening very attentively. The ghostly shadows of palace lanterns fell on her face, swaying out a patch of blurred darkness.
“Marquis Wei…” Jin Siyu slowly approached. This gentle call actually seemed even more chilling than his calm yet venomous tone just now. “Tell me, such a person, such a heartless woman who deceived my true heart and betrayed my sincere devotion—should I not pursue her to the ends of the earth, never resting until death?”
He approached step by step. Feng Zhiwei felt no discomfort, nor did she retreat. She stood calmly in place, looking up at him, and suddenly smiled.
Her smile, misty as autumn waters, bloomed in the slightly damp, cool southern autumn wind like a pure white orchid, instantly bursting into dazzling brilliance. Across ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains, the fragrance of kings suddenly pervaded everywhere.
Seeing her smile, Jin Siyu was momentarily stunned, briefly confused.
“This respectable and admirable concubine is called Shaoyao?” Feng Zhiwei said softly. “Though the name is common, her character is not. Though I don’t know her, I greatly admire her—when two countries are at war, clashing on the battlefield with white blades entering and red blades emerging is war, but scheming and maneuvering off the field, back and forth, is also war. This Miss Shaoyao lost the open battle but won the covert one, upholding our Tiansheng’s national prestige—very good. But ultimately, she merely fought you to a draw. She didn’t mind being your captive, bearing sorrow and humiliation, lurking and enduring. Why must you insist on minding that the enemy found an opening and you suffered a small loss?”
Jin Siyu stood still, gazing at the composed, eloquent young man under the moonlight. He felt his heart being ruthlessly twisted and wrung by an invisible hand, waves of churning, topsy-turvy pain so intense he nearly wanted to press his chest and violently dig out that heart that had fallen into icy water.
Half a year after parting, in court affairs and government matters, whenever he encountered that name—that person’s brilliance and intelligence, that person’s meteoric rise, that person’s dominance of the court, that person’s peerless excellence under heaven—hearing those dazzling achievements was like watching another person through glass. Behind that hazy, misty frost, a face appeared—delicate, fragile, with a faintly red mark between the brows and eyes flowing with luminous waves. When she smiled, it was somewhat absent-minded, yet made one’s heart soften at first sight.
Such a completely different face.
It often made him distracted to the point of confusion.
He always remembered those nights when wind and rain battered the windows as they read together, remembered warming their mutually held hands before the warm brazier, remembered her noble and graceful presence by his side on New Year’s Eve, remembered carrying her weak, injured form slowly forward through the garden as her warm breath brushed his neck, remembered her words to him during their study negotiations—congratulations to Prince An for gaining an unmatched talent, the realm’s territory within your grasp!
Remembering these things, what came after could not be thought of. Yet not thinking of them, he couldn’t let himself off either. Lifting the curtain to walk, from time to time he always saw that lazily smiling face. To the ends of the earth, the farther she was, the more memory surged forward.
Just as he couldn’t bear to hear that name, yet kept hearing it constantly.
Even now, what he hated—was it that period of memory related to her, which recorded his life’s greatest defeat and loss? Or was he simply hating that from beginning to end, all her tender warmth was pretense, and in the end, she was so resolute?
Those mutual smiles, exchanged glances, secret communication in joined palms—all false, all false.
He knew in his heart it was so, yet still felt unwilling. Unwilling that in another’s heart, he had fallen to such depths. So he came, almost masochistically standing before her, hearing her indifference once again, using national righteousness in response.
This person was utterly heartless, inflicting pain to the bone.
He suddenly smiled coldly.
Such a refined, scholarly, gentle person—when he smiled like this, he was like an injured wolf raising its head to howl at the moon, roaring out bleeding wounds toward the deep black firmament.
Then he suddenly lunged forward one step, instantly reaching Feng Zhiwei.
“I object! I object to a true heart being discarded like worn shoes!”
“I object! I object that she deceived from beginning to end!”
“I object! I object that she knew I’d let go yet still pursued relentlessly!”
“I object! I object that I originally didn’t need to lose that match!”
“I object! I object to being defeated not by strategy but by who was more heartless!”
“I object! I object to being foolish enough to bet on the emotions of a heartless person!”
His voice was low and vicious. It was hard to imagine that someone with such refined, gentle temperament could, when erupting, be so violent and ruthless, leaving no room. With each “I object,” he advanced one step. Feng Zhiwei looked at his eyes that instantly turned pitch black and suddenly felt her heart constrict, her mouth seeming to taste faint bitterness. The pretended righteous composure and calm indifference shattered instantly. She couldn’t help but retreat. He advanced one step, she retreated one step. Before his six objections were finished, her back struck the lake-side railing with a bang.
Jin Siyu’s pent-up fury, provoked to its peak by her calm heartlessness, had lost some clarity of reason at this moment. In his eyes was a spreading darkness like night, and in that night was reflected Feng Zhiwei’s face. Those eyes held dewy brightness and glimmering clear waves, like a layer of mist stretching before him. Her posture finally lost that hardness and coldness, pressed tightly against the railing, her body leaning slightly back, her long hair falling down like willow branches, undulating gently on the water surface. Due to this extremely close distance and the approaching masculine aura, she was somewhat flustered, a layer of faint panic floating in her eyes.
That touch of panic in his eyes—in a trance, it was like last winter’s Shaoyao, when she was first captured and had lost her memory, occasionally revealing a trace of pitiful bewilderment in her composure. It was precisely that touch of pitiable distress that moved his heart again and again until he was hopelessly sunk, clearly full of suspicion yet willing to take a bold gamble… In an instant, everything from Puyuan returned—all Shaoyao, smiling Shaoyao, gentle Shaoyao, playful Shaoyao, lazy Shaoyao, countless Shaoyaos dancing and spinning in his vision with delicate laughter… Jin Siyu suddenly felt his heart burning. Emotions suppressed for so long were like a great river instantly bursting through the dam of reason. A low growl emerged from his throat as he suddenly buried his head and pressed his lips down heavily.
The force with which he pressed down was so resolute, different from the gentle prince in Feng Zhiwei’s memory, almost brutally pressing hard on her lips. In that instant, he forcefully used his teeth to try to pry open her dental barrier, unable to wait to plunge in, sweep clear and occupy this stunning territory he had never set foot in.
Knee to the top, hand at her waist, pressing her body—Jin Siyu used his entire body as weapons, pinning Feng Zhiwei firmly against the railing in that small space—during those days, he had respected her will, maintained his elegant demeanor, and thus truly became wind in her memory. To still speak of demeanor at this point would be pedantic. However heartless she was, he would be equally plundering!
The sound of teeth harshly colliding could be heard clearly in the stillness. Distant laughter and chatter were scattered by the wind, reaching here as faint as lamplight. Jin Siyu, blocked at her lips, wasn’t anxious and patiently tried to caress her waist—he remembered she had an old injury at her waist, and her body would soften at a touch.
His hand had just touched her waist when suddenly Feng Zhiwei’s body sank. Then came a “hum” as something suddenly pressed against a certain part of him.
Cold, hard, sharp.
Jin Siyu stopped moving, his pupils slowly contracting as he looked at Feng Zhiwei beneath him.
Feng Zhiwei looked at him calmly and coldly, not saying anything like “move away.”
Jin Siyu’s backlit eyes flickered with cold, faint light. His gaze slowly moved downward, looking at his own waist—just now, Feng Zhiwei had first not resisted, then used his hand exploring her waist to trigger the mechanism of her soft sword at her waist, pressing it against his vital point.
This woman… always so patient, so ruthless.
Feng Zhiwei’s eyes held calm, but then her expression changed.
At some unknown time, footsteps had approached—not Gu Nanyi’s, but unfamiliar, light footsteps. Someone walked while saying lightly: “This is truly a good place. Drinking wine here must be pleasant. Eh—”
He had obviously discovered something wrong here and was walking this way.
Feng Zhiwei’s heart tightened—at this moment, her hair was disheveled, her collar in disarray, leaning back against the railing, entangled with a man. If someone saw this scene, it would arouse suspicious trouble.
Jin Siyu was also momentarily stunned. He had already recognized from the voice who was approaching and even less wanted his grudge with Wei Zhi exposed before that person. As his gaze hesitated, Feng Zhiwei had already noticed. Suddenly her fingers moved, withdrawing the soft sword, then grabbing Jin Siyu’s hand and placing it on her chest, creating the appearance that she was about to fall into the lake and Jin Siyu was trying to save her.
With this gesture, Jin Siyu understood. A trace of admiration flashed in his eyes as he grasped Feng Zhiwei’s collar.
Feng Zhiwei had just relaxed slightly at his cooperation when she suddenly saw him staring intently at her chest. His calmed expression changed again, a trace of malice flashing in his eyes. A blue-green light gleamed like cold wind blowing through a dark forest at midnight, shooting out ghostly luminescence.
Feng Zhiwei’s heart tightened—not good! At this moment, her hold over Jin Siyu was gone. She was in a disadvantageous position and had placed her vital chest area in his hands. As long as Jin Siyu turned malicious, he could instantly put her to death, or at the very least, abduct her!
Feng Zhiwei secretly regretted underestimating Jin Siyu, or perhaps the impression he’d left on her initially was too deep. She always felt this person had no murderous intent toward her, never imagining—the deeper the affection once was, the deeper the hatred now!
All these thoughts flashed through her mind like lightning. Jin Siyu, grasping her collar, had already slowly raised his little finger.
In his little finger was a speck of blue light, its ghostly glow flickering.
And the direction of his fingertip pointed precisely at Feng Zhiwei’s heart.