“Come!”

That thunderous shout overturned everyone.

Heilian Zheng was actually going to receive flogging on this high platform, before everyone’s eyes, with the dignity of a grassland king, inflicting punishment upon himself!

Heilian Zheng knelt, yet his body remained ramrod straight. Raising his head toward the room in the second courtyard where the Living Buddha resided, he shouted loudly, “Those who defy the Living Buddha receive flogging with thorny switches. You need not judge me—I judge myself!”

He had sentenced himself to punishment, which clearly told everyone—I absolutely will defy.

The chiefs sat dumbfounded. No one had expected Heilian Zheng to be so resolute. Fundamentally, following the Living Buddha’s instructions and arrangements was only a belief within the Khuzhuo tribe, not an iron rule. It was just that people shaped over thousands of years by theocratic indoctrination had long forgotten to violate it. In Khuzhuo doctrine, there seemed to be no clear explanation of what should happen after receiving flogging. In fact, no one had ever committed this offense.

Living Buddha Dama rolled his eyes, looking somewhat unable to catch his breath.

Feng Zhiwei looked at him coldly, using her gaze to prematurely regard him as a skeleton.

“You go stop him.” She turned to Peony, saying, “There’s no need to suffer physical pain over a soon-to-die old man’s nonsense.”

Yet Peony’s expression was somewhat strange. Staring at Feng Zhiwei, after a long while she sighed and said, “Fate… let him be. You don’t understand Dama’s authority… without this, there’s no way to resolve it.”

“Crack!”

The sound of the whip striking flesh made everyone shudder. In an instant, the surroundings became deathly quiet.

The whip body covered with barbs had barely touched his back when skin split and flesh tore. Blood practically spurted out. The dragging whip body ripped deep furrows in the skin, while the surrounding flesh immediately swelled high. That blood rapidly rolled down the splits, instantly soaking his lower garments. On the golden robe appeared a large patch of alarming deep red.

With the first lash, Heilian Zheng, kneeling rigidly on the ground, trembled. His fingers dug deeply into the grass, yet he laughed heartily toward Feng Zhiwei who had rushed out, “Ha! I thought it would hurt more, but it’s just—”

“Crack!”

The second lash fell, immediately cutting off Heilian Zheng’s forced nonchalance. Feng Zhiwei watched his face contort with pain for an instant, saying softly, “Don’t speak.”

“Crack!”

Heilian Zheng pitched forward but immediately propped himself up with his elbows, once again struggling to raise his head and smile at Feng Zhiwei.

The thorny switches were already covered with many fragments of torn flesh and blood. When swung, they splattered in all directions. A drop of blood fell on Feng Zhiwei’s face. She didn’t wipe it away, but suddenly stepped forward and grabbed the whip.

“Enough!”

The blood-stained thorny switches immediately pierced her palm. Blood flowed freely, mixing with Heilian Zheng’s blood and flesh.

“Zhiwei!” Heilian Zheng hadn’t made a sound despite his own flesh being torn apart, yet seeing her bleed, he was so alarmed he struggled to rise. The movement pulled his wounds and he pitched forward. Feng Zhiwei tossed aside the switches and caught him, saying to Hutejia who wielded the whip, “Three lashes are enough. That is your king!”

Hutejia picked up the switches and silently withdrew. Feng Zhiwei gazed coldly at the blood on the ground. Heilian Zheng hissed in pain, about to force out a joke or two, when he heard her say in a low voice, “Who decreed that divine authority must be placed above royal authority? Starting from me, I do—not—permit—it.”

The icy determination in her tone made Heilian Zheng’s whole body tremble. But Feng Zhiwei said nothing more, supporting him into the inner courtyard. She pulled out a calendar book and tossed it onto the felt mat, saying to Living Buddha Dama who sat trembling on the spot, “The flogging is done, the words have been said. Now please select an auspicious day for the Great King’s enthronement. I think the next three days all look good—choose from among them.”

Having spoken, without looking at anyone’s expression, she supported Heilian Zheng to the rear hall, ordered a medicine box brought, fetched water and cloth, and personally applied medicine to Heilian Zheng’s wounds.

That whip was no ordinary whip—heavy and fierce. Heilian Zheng’s back was now swollen where it wasn’t shredded, a ghastly sight. Heilian Zheng lay with his head buried, not making a sound. Feng Zhiwei tried to apply the medicine as gently as possible, yet still felt his body continuously trembling.

“If it hurts, cry out.” Feng Zhiwei carefully treated the whip marks, bit by bit picking out the barbs embedded in his skin. Such a pity—this beautiful skin would inevitably be left with scars. “Even if you endure it, I won’t admire your heroic spirit.”

“I’m… afraid you’ll feel sorry for me.” Heilian Zheng raised his head. His forehead was covered with a fine layer of crystalline sweat. His eyes had already turned deep purple from pain, and there were tiny breaks at the corners of his mouth, yet he still smiled.

Feng Zhiwei gazed at him, finished treating the last wound, and lightly patted his shoulder. Amid Heilian Zheng’s cry of “Ow!”, she said lightly, “Feel sorry? A little.”

“Forget it… forget it.” Heilian Zheng smiled bitterly. “I’d better not hope for your sympathy.”

“Sympathy serves no purpose.” Feng Zhiwei sat there, her face half-hidden in the room’s shadows. “Rather than waste time feeling sorry, better to do something practical.”

Heilian Zheng lay on the felt mat, struggling to lift his head to look at her. “What are you going to do?”

Feng Zhiwei remained silent.

“Zhiwei…” Heilian Zheng suddenly reached out, grasping her hand. “You’ve changed. The first time I saw you by the carriage, though you were ruthless, you still had some restraint. Now you seem to have frozen yourself. Not just toward others, but even toward yourself—you show no mercy. This isn’t good.”

“In what way isn’t it good?” Feng Zhiwei didn’t withdraw her hand, quietly lowering her head to look at him.

Heilian Zheng held her hand, yet felt as if he wasn’t holding a hand but ice—not the closest distance to her heart, but as far as heaven from earth. Her hand was in his, but her person and soul were both absent.

A bitter smile bloomed at the corner of his lips. He said softly, “Life is short and bitter. Rather than spend so much time hating, try to make yourself happier. I… only hope for your happiness.”

He fumbled clumsily with the medicine box, pulled out white cloth and wound medicine, and carefully picked the small thorns from her palm wound, applying medicine and bandaging it. Just these small movements caused another layer of sweat to appear on his forehead.

Feng Zhiwei gazed at him, took a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow, saying, “Today I’m very happy, because I’ve finally discovered that for however many people in this world have wronged you, there are just as many who have treated you well. Heilian, thank you. It’s just that I don’t think you should harm yourself for an empty title of Great Consort. You should know that for me, whether or not I become this Great Consort makes no difference whatsoever.”

Heilian Zheng fell silent. He wasn’t stupid—he naturally understood Feng Zhiwei’s reminder. After a long while, he smiled slightly, saying, “Still, I’m willing.”

Then he closed his eyes, making as if to sleep. Feng Zhiwei tidied up the items and quietly left.

As soon as her figure departed, Heilian Zheng opened his eyes.

His amber-purple eyes stared intently at the ceiling, a flash of anguish crossing them.

After a long time, he murmured, “Zhiwei… even if it’s just an empty title, I want it, because… that is the closest distance I can get to you.”

Coming out from Heilian Zheng’s bedroom, Feng Zhiwei paid no attention to the commotion in the front hall. She directly summoned Zong Chen and Gu Nanyi, giving them a few instructions.

Before long, Peony came to say the auspicious day had been set for the day after tomorrow. She also said the Living Buddha’s spirits weren’t very good—after all, he was one hundred and thirteen years old. From the looks of it, after presiding over this ceremony, the next grand gathering would likely be about the new Living Buddha.

Peony wasn’t as garrulous as usual today. She seemed somewhat lost in thought, maintaining that expression ever since Dama had spoken those words.

Watching her constantly distracted appearance, Feng Zhiwei suddenly said, “Peony, do you really want to kill me?”

This direct question startled Peony so much she trembled, staring at her wide-eyed and dumbfounded. After a long while, she stammered, “What kind of question is that?”

“A normal question.” Feng Zhiwei frowned while drinking sheep’s milk. “You believe so strongly in Dama’s prophecies. For Heilian Zheng’s life, you could personally kill seven of your own children. Why couldn’t you kill the mother wolf Feng Zhiwei?”

Peony was stunned again for a while, then after a long time smiled bitterly, “Only if I could kill you.”

“How candid of you.” Feng Zhiwei set down her bowl, smiling. “You actually just admitted it like that.”

“That was indeed my first reaction when I heard those words.” Peony honestly admitted, “Dama’s prophecies are truly very accurate—at least they’ve always proven true in my case. I didn’t used to believe in such things, but the old fellow has forced me to believe.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled without speaking.

“But thinking it over again, I felt that prophecy might not necessarily mean what we think it means.” Peony grinned. “You’re covered in poison—if women aren’t poisonous, men bully them. Being poisonous isn’t wrong. You brought blood and fire—Da Yue and Tiansheng’s war isn’t finished. The Yinji tribe was betrayed and so many innocent warriors died. This debt must eventually be settled with Da Yue. War is indeed inevitable, but it’s not necessarily your fault. As for saying you’re Zhadalan’s calamity… love is also a calamity.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled faintly, thinking that despite her blunt manner, Peony was actually quite perceptive.

“All of the above is actually still nonsense.” Peony’s expression turned sly. “The key issue is, I know I can’t kill you. Might as well honestly befriend you. Some people can’t be made enemies—making them friends has more benefits. Zhiwei, my cheap daughter-in-law, I’m entrusting Zhadalan to you.” She leaned back, narrowing her eyes. “Whether you poison him to death, or he dies from calamity, it all depends on Zhadalan’s luck.”

“I think the Great Consort is actually the smartest person on this grassland.” Feng Zhiwei sincerely praised her.

Peony smiled with narrowed eyes, looking as if she thought the same.

“Night has fallen.” Feng Zhiwei drank her buttered tea, smiling as mysteriously as the night. “I hope everyone can sleep peacefully.”

Hoping everyone could sleep peacefully was naturally just a polite phrase. There were some people Feng Zhiwei absolutely didn’t intend to let sleep peacefully.

After the third watch, she stepped out with Zong Chen, Gu Nanyi, and Hua Qiong.

The guards of the Potala Second Palace were currently divided into three parts: one part was the original royal court guards, one part was her dowry escort guards, and another part was her own people—belonging to Gu Nanyi’s invisible forces.

In the evening, Peony had switched the royal court guards. The courtyard of the front hall where Living Buddha Dama resided originally had some of her guards, but now they’d all been replaced with royal court guards. Feng Zhiwei understood Peony’s little concerns—she feared the mother wolf Feng would attack the old bones of Dama in her rage.

She really underestimated Feng Zhiwei. To kill someone, one didn’t necessarily need to use a blade.

Just as they passed through the palace gate between the rear and front halls, a group of people suddenly came over. It was Liu Mudan leading a team of female slaves. Seeing her, Peony smiled with sparkling eyes, saying, “Feeling stifled at night, came out for a walk. Wewei darling, where are you going?”

“Feeling stifled at night, going to walk at Living Buddha Dama’s place.” Feng Zhiwei told her directly.

Peony linked arms with her, giggling, “That’s perfect then. We’ll go together. I’ll have the old fellow divine Chamutou’s fortune for me.”

“Good.” Feng Zhiwei didn’t refuse, smiling as she accompanied her.

When they were nearly at Living Buddha Dama’s courtyard, Hua Qiong suddenly cried out “Oh!”

Everyone quickly turned back. Hua Qiong clutched her belly, supporting herself against a corridor pillar, saying in a low voice, “…It’s nothing, just feeling a bit uncomfortable…”

Zong Chen came over to check her pulse, saying, “Miss Hua is close to giving birth. Be careful not to disturb the fetal energy. You should go back and rest.”

Feng Zhiwei immediately went over to support her, saying, “I’ll help you back.”

“Don’t.” Hua Qiong pushed her away. “You should still go find the Living Buddha to divine for you. As for me…”

She grabbed Liu Mudan, leaning on her shoulder, saying, “Better to trouble the Great Consort instead.”

Liu Mudan paused, her eyes glancing at Feng Zhiwei, then smiled, “Alright… alright… I’ll take you there. I’ll leave once you’re settled.”

“I’m also about to give birth…” Hua Qiong leaned on Liu Mudan’s shoulder, whispering in her ear. “There are some things I’m embarrassed to tell an unmarried girl about, and I don’t want to tell men either. I’d like to ask you—only you are suitable…”

With this said, Liu Mudan couldn’t refuse even more. She quickly called the female slaves to help Hua Qiong away.

Feng Zhiwei watched Hua Qiong’s slowly shuffling figure as she returned, and smiled.

Now no one stood in the way.

She led two people straight in, openly requesting an audience at Living Buddha Dama’s courtyard entrance. A serving young lama came out to receive them. Though somewhat uneasy, she was the Great Consort and had only brought two people openly, so there was no reason to refuse. He could only invite her inside.

Footsteps made no sound on the lacquered long corridor. Under the corridor eaves, the tung oil lamp’s light was dim. On the thick, colorful felt mat, the withered old man, shrunken to the size of a child, still held a telescope peering at the newcomers.

A gold-plated bronze Buddha statue stood behind him, wearing a mysterious smile, silently observing the woman who entered with a composed expression.

Feng Zhiwei left the door wide open. Everything inside the room was clearly visible. Zong Chen and Gu Nanyi stood at the doorway. The serving young lamas in the courtyard watched the two people inside the room without blinking.

“What have you come to do?” The old lama’s thick eyelids drooped down, his eyes looking at the floor.

“To see our Dama Ala.” Feng Zhiwei sat down at a distance, her words affectionate, though her tone suggested otherwise. Her next statement made Dama shudder. “To see how he’s still not dead yet.”

“You want me to die…” Dama was silent for a moment, then laughed hoarsely. “You scheming mother wolf, can you bite the god in the clouds on this grassland?”

“After decades of the tribespeople’s worship and incense offerings, you’ve truly become so addled you actually think yourself a god.” Feng Zhiwei smiled faintly while brightening the oil lamp on the table. The lamplight cast shadows of her eyelashes beneath her eyes. “In my view, you’re not as good as that solid statue behind you—at least it will never speak nonsense.”

“I haven’t spoken nonsense.” Dama stared at her unblinkingly, saying hoarsely, “This is the greatest sin for a disciple who keeps the precepts. I dare not commit it.”

“Even if every word you prophesied is true.” Feng Zhiwei leaned forward, staring into his eyes. “Do you dare say you performed the divination from an impartial heart? Do you dare say you’ve never been influenced in any way? Dama, disciples who keep the precepts must always maintain impartiality. Do you dare say that in this matter, all your words and all your actions have nothing that can be criticized, that you have a clear conscience?”

Dama remained motionless, his aged wrinkles layered together like a pile of rotten carpet shrunk in the oil lamp’s shadow.

In the dim, oppressive atmosphere, something seemed to press down heavily. Between the old lama’s brows appeared a trace of weary expression.

“What did Kele say to you?” Feng Zhiwei leaned back, resting against a huge cushion, her expression leisurely.

“He only told me what happened recently.” Dama shook his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking—he didn’t say anything bad. Even if he did say something, the results of divination are predetermined by heaven’s will, not something anyone can manipulate.”

“When you performed the divination, he was right beside you, wasn’t he?” Feng Zhiwei showed a cold smile. “Dama, you’d better think carefully.”

The old lama trembled. His murky eyes rolled around, recalling the scene during the divination. His original deep conviction gradually showed a trace of confusion. After a long while, he shook his head. “He was very far away.”

“Being far away means he couldn’t tamper with things?” Feng Zhiwei pressed further.

The old lama fell into another round of contemplation. His expression became increasingly confused. His aged brain seemed to be turning particularly slowly tonight. He tried desperately to recall that scene when Kele came to Huyin Temple not long ago, but discovered he couldn’t remember the details clearly at all.

“Old… I’m old…” He shook his head and sighed, yet still stubbornly said, “The god’s will cannot be wrong. You needn’t say more. The god’s disciples will never alter divination results.”

“Who asked you to alter anything?” Feng Zhiwei stood up, smiling lazily. “Dama Ala, seeing your complexion isn’t good—you often suffer from insomnia, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. Very soon, you’ll be able to sleep well.”

She smiled and turned to leave. Her light steps stirred the oil lamp’s flame into a chaotic flicker. In the swaying light and shadow, the old lama struggled to lift his eyelids, watching her departing back, muttering, “…Mother wolf who came to the grassland…”

“What fabric should I use for baby diapers? Would fine kudzu work for summer? Otherwise cotton cloth? Will it be too hot and cause sores?” In the rear hall, Hua Qiong grabbed Liu Mudan with endless questions, continuously stroking her belly. “Oh my… he’s been so restless tonight.”

“Cotton cloth is fine. We on the grassland don’t have as many customs as the Central Plains…” Liu Mudan gently stroked her belly, asking with concern, “Should I call the medical officer? Child, why won’t you let me call the medical officer…”

Footsteps sounded in the long corridor.

Liu Mudan’s hand relaxed. Hua Qiong sat up with a whoosh, stretched, and smiled brightly. “Oh my, why call a medical officer? I’m fine now.”

Her eyes clear and bright, she nimbly climbed up and quickly walked a circle around the room. Spreading her hands toward Liu Mudan, she said, “Your words are more effective than miraculous medicine. I feel great now!”

Liu Mudan looked up at the pregnant woman who had been gasping for breath moments ago. Her facial expression was quite spectacular—nose wasn’t nose, eyes weren’t eyes.

“Better now?” Feng Zhiwei stepped in with one foot, smiling. “We really troubled Peony. When Peony takes action, no one can stop her.”

“When Hua Qiong takes action, no one can stop her is more like it.” Peony laughed heartily as she got up. “Good, she’s energetic now, I’ve been used up, you’ve finished your walk. I’ll continue mine.”

“Please do.” Feng Zhiwei smiled as she saw the Empress Dowager Peony flee like a wolf. Turning back to Hua Qiong who was proudly stroking her belly and praising her son, she said, “One matter doesn’t trouble two masters. I’ll need to borrow your big belly again tomorrow.”

The grassland’s morning breath was fresh and bright, shining on the black tiles and white walls of the distinctly colored royal court. The Potala Second Palace on the high ridge appeared pure and noble as a result.

Today, apart from the injured Heilian Zheng, everyone was very busy—entertaining the chiefs, preparing tomorrow’s ceremony, arranging for guests. Early in the morning, both generations of Great Consorts went to the front courtyard to oversee various matters. Even Meiduo was called by Peony to help. Only Heilian Zheng and two pregnant women remained in the rear hall.

Nata emerged from her own room. She lived between Zong Chen and Gu Nanyi and had been so hemmed in these past days she couldn’t move. Finally today she came out for some air.

There was a kitchen in the rear hall. She went to fetch a bowl of buttered tea and brought some external wound medicine, heading toward the hall where Heilian Zheng was staying. Passing through a corridor, she suddenly felt the ground was a bit slippery. Afraid of falling, she instinctively reached out to steady herself against the wall. As her body tilted, the buttered tea spilled out.

Then she heard someone cry “Ow!”

That person had just been walking past from the garden below the corridor. Unable to avoid the sudden spill from above, she was still splashed despite hurried evasion and had to quickly remove her outer robe as the scalding buttered tea burned her.

Nata recognized her as the Han pregnant woman beside Feng Zhiwei. She instinctively felt wary, but it seemed improper to just walk away after dirtying someone’s clothes. She could only support her while summoning female slaves, planning to leave immediately once someone took over.

But Hua Qiong ignored her, only concerned with tidying her own clothes, carefully removing something and placing it on the railing, as if afraid of soiling it.

Nata’s gaze swept over it and discovered it was a protective amulet—but not an ordinary one. It bore the seal of Huyin Temple, yellow and black in color, precisely the type of amulet pouch that only the highest-ranking Living Buddha Dama of the temple would use.

“Where did you get this?” She picked up the protective amulet.

“Don’t touch it!” Hua Qiong snatched it back. “The Great Consort requested it from Living Buddha Dama for me last night, to bless my safe delivery and healthy descendants. Don’t handle it carelessly.”

Nata knew Feng Zhiwei had indeed gone to Dama’s place last night. Hearing this, her eyes brightened. “The Great Consort has great influence. The Living Buddha rarely personally bestows protective amulets.”

“It was my request.” Hua Qiong pouted. “Dama Ala is fair-minded. He won’t resent me just because of the Great Consort. This child of mine came with some… difficulty. I asked the Great Consort to explain to Dama Ala, and Dama Ala gave me this.”

Nata glanced at her belly. She also knew Central Plains customs—pregnant women like Hua Qiong who inexplicably followed Feng Zhiwei to the grassland with no man at her side were probably abandoned wives from some Central Plains great household or something similar. The child’s origins were unclear. Living Buddha Dama, being compassionate, might indeed show special favor to this Han woman because of her circumstances.

She eyed the brocade pouch containing the protective amulet, her heart itching. Ah, such a precious thing that everyone on the grassland wanted—how did it end up with this Han woman?

“This is a blessing-extension amulet.” Hua Qiong held the amulet, smiling with squinted eyes. “It protects all children whose birth dates are entrusted to it. In the future, if I have more children, it will work for them too.”

Nata had been calculating whether to request one from the Living Buddha, feeling somewhat dejected as she wasn’t allowed to leave the rear hall. Hearing this statement, her eyes immediately brightened. “It protects all children whose birth dates are entrusted to it?”

Hua Qiong glanced at her, putting away the amulet. “Why?”

Nata hesitated, then asked tentatively, “Then my child—if I entrust the birth date to it, presumably it would also receive protection, right?”

“Heilian Zheng’s child?” Hua Qiong looked at her belly hesitantly. “I’m not certain. At the time, the Living Buddha said it would bless all children whose birth dates are entrusted to it. But you should still go request one yourself.”

Nata shook her head. Requesting an amulet from Dama depended on karmic connection. Moreover, as soon as Dama arrived, she had someone indicate her wish and had already been refused.

“The child hasn’t been born yet—how can you know the birth date?”

“An approximate month is fine. Write the name you want to give him.” Hua Qiong said, “As a mother, you surely know roughly when you’ll give birth, right?”

Nata hesitated again, then said, “Wait for me.” She hurried back to her room. After a while, she came out with a folded paper envelope and handed it to Hua Qiong.

Hua Qiong didn’t even look, casually placing the envelope inside, muttering, “I can’t guarantee whether it will work or not. I think you should still go request one yourself…”

“It doesn’t matter. If it works, that’s best. If not, it’s also fine.” The more she refused, the more determined Nata became. Afraid she would continue fussing, she quickly changed the subject with a smile. “Your robe is dirty. Let me wash it for you.”

“I have female slaves.” Hua Qiong said, “Why should you wash it?”

“This kind of oil tea stain isn’t easy to handle.” Nata said, “I have a method.”

“Then come back to my room with me and wait while I change clothes.” Hua Qiong took her hand and walked back. Nata stared at that small protective amulet pouch, saying, “Miss Hua, such a precious thing shouldn’t be carried on your person. If it gets dirty or lost, it would be disrespectful to the divine spirits. We Khuzhuo tribe people all place protective amulets requested from the Living Buddha under the shrine in our rooms.”

“Is that so?” Hua Qiong nodded, arranged for her to sit in the outer room, and following her advice, placed the small pouch under the shrine. She then went into the inner room to change.

As soon as she entered, Nata immediately stood up. From her bosom, she pulled out a similarly colored small pouch and placed it under the shrine, extracting the original one and stuffing it into her own bosom.

She pressed that stolen protective amulet tightly, a cold smile appearing on her face.

How could I possibly write my child’s birth month for you…

Then she sat back down, methodically drinking tea. Hua Qiong emerged from the inner room and handed her the robe, smiling. “Thank you.”

“I’ll bring it to you once it’s washed.” Nata held the robe carefully, taking care not to touch the stains, and immediately hurried away.

Hua Qiong watched her rapidly departing back, a smile appearing on her face—exactly the same smile Nata had worn when stealing the protective amulet.

Not long after, Feng Zhiwei and the others all returned together. At the same time, security in the rear hall was strengthened—it could be said to be surrounded so tightly not even water could leak through. Feng Zhiwei’s explanation to Peony was that Heilian Zheng was injured, and tomorrow was the enthronement ceremony—there could be no mistakes.

During dinner, everyone ate together. Nata ate very little, looking somewhat restless. As soon as dinner ended, Feng Zhiwei immediately said, “Everyone should sleep early tonight. Nata, you need not attend tomorrow’s ceremony. Stay in the palace and nurture the fetus well.”

Then to Heilian Zheng, “Which one from the royal tent will attend you tonight?”

Heilian Zheng had several concubines in the royal court, sent by the chiefs on his coming-of-age day according to grassland custom. In Feng Zhiwei’s view, they weren’t junior wives but spies. However, if the Great King Heilian enjoyed himself with them, she couldn’t be bothered to care. Since her arrival she’d been very busy and hadn’t had time to meet these direct subordinates.

Heilian Zheng’s expression was somewhat awkward. He stole a glance at her and said, “Great Consort, according to custom, three days before and after establishing the consort, it’s you who… ahem, attends.”

Someone at the table coughed. Someone seemed to accidentally bite through a bone. Feng Zhiwei paused, then said, “Ah? Me? Oh.”

Just those three words, then she said nothing more and continued eating. This left the Great King Heilian hanging, unable to determine what the honored Great Consort was thinking. Holding a small knife, he glanced at her sideways. But the Great Consort seemed to have forgotten after speaking, only concerned with eating her meat. The anxious Great King fidgeted like he had sores, his bottom twisting left and right.

The meal of fidgeting finished, but the Great King still couldn’t get a follow-up from the Great Consort. Watching everyone disperse, Feng Zhiwei walked toward the rear hall. Heilian Zheng hurriedly followed, seeing Feng Zhiwei calmly enter her own room. He could only stop in his tracks, standing there dispiritedly, sighing sorrowfully, then dejectedly returning to his own room.

Though the royal court was a palace, it still followed grassland customs—the Great King had a separate hall, with women surrounding him. Whoever he needed, he summoned. The Great Consort was no exception. Heilian Zheng lay alone on the felt mat in his room, wondering whether after enthronement he should reform the rules and learn from ordinary Central Plains couples to live together?

Suddenly the door was pulled open. First came a quilt, then a pillow flew in, and finally Feng Zhiwei’s black-and-silver-bordered skirt hem, calmly stepping over the quilt as she entered.

Heilian Zheng instantly flew from the depths to heaven, joyfully propping himself up and shouting, “Great Consort, have you come to attend me?”

“Great Consort has come to sleep.” Feng Zhiwei wagged her finger at him. “You added one most critical character.”

Heilian Zheng crashed back onto the felt mat with a thud, muttering resentfully, “This woman has never let anyone be happy for even a quarter hour.”

Feng Zhiwei ignored him, spreading out her own bedding on the felt mat and lying down in it. “Settle down and sleep. Tomorrow there are things to do.”

“Could we perhaps do something in advance tonight?” Heilian Zheng sidled over with a grin. “Do something pleasant, relaxing, something that would make both of us feel our lives weren’t lived in vain—something wonderful?”

He inched closer and closer, grabbing the corner of Feng Zhiwei’s quilt.

“We could.” Feng Zhiwei pillowed her hands under her head, saying leisurely, “But I can’t guarantee that after this matter is concluded, you won’t feel sorrowful, heavy, and wish you’d never been born.”

Heilian Zheng mournfully took her quilt corner and wiped his face with it, then pressed his face ecstatically into the quilt, looking as if he wanted to smother himself. After a long while, he said in a muffled voice, “Forget it. I know there’s no hope. That you’re willing to sleep here is already good enough—at least you’re worried about me.”

“The Great Consort likes smart children.” Feng Zhiwei said lazily, suddenly sniffing. “Hm?” she exclaimed.

“Hm what?” Heilian Zheng sneakily lifted the quilt, bit by bit trying to roll himself inside.

Feng Zhiwei waited until he’d rolled most of the way in, then pulled left and grabbed right, yanking the entire quilt over to cushion under herself.

The Great King Heilian gazed sorrowfully at Feng Zhiwei wrapped like a long cocoon.

Feng Zhiwei acted as if completely unaware of his little maneuvers, saying with closed eyes, “I’ve been holding my breath for quite a while. Just now I accidentally didn’t hold it, and then I was surprised…”

“Surprised it doesn’t stink anymore, right?” Heilian Zheng’s eyes brightened. “You didn’t know? Ever since I met you, I’ve started washing my feet every day!”

“How often did you wash them before?”

“Let me think…” Heilian Zheng pondered for quite a while, then answered solemnly, “I washed them once when I was in Ganzhou.”

In other words, from Ganzhou directly to the Imperial Capital as a hostage, he hadn’t washed his feet at all in all that time before meeting Feng Zhiwei…

“Sigh, actually I thought that was also a weapon. Even Gu Nanyi almost fainted from the fumes.” Feng Zhiwei turned over.

“I was thinking that perhaps one day you’d sleep beside me. If I fumigated you away, I’d die of regret.” Heilian Zheng said leisurely beside her, “When you like someone, you should make yourself the best you can be. A man who won’t change his faults for a woman isn’t truly a good man.”

Feng Zhiwei opened her eyes.

Before her, that man lay propped on his elbow at the edge of her quilt, looking at her. His amber eyes glowing with purple radiance shone brilliantly like gemstones.

His garment was slightly open, exposing half his pale honey-colored crystalline chest. As his gaze moved, he naturally exuded compelling masculine charm. Yet his expression also carried several parts childish roguishness and delight—two completely incompatible temperaments mixed together, creating a uniquely distinctive style.

It was he who had climbed the wall at midnight to glue a little bird to it, been carried about for public display, then laughed it off afterward. It was also he who had defied the grassland’s god, disregarding his dignity as king to publicly sentence himself to flogging.

This rigid yet soft man.

“You are a good man.” Feng Zhiwei reached out from the quilt, slowly stroking his brow. “It’s a pity I don’t have that blessing. Zhadalan… in my most sorrowful and fallen moment, your grassland sheltered me. Knowing I can’t give you anything, you still let me occupy the Great Consort’s position. So regardless of what Dama said, I will protect your grassland just as your mother protected your father’s grassland.”

“Zhiwei, before we reach the end, don’t be so certain of the conclusion.” Heilian Zheng’s gaze dimmed, yet he immediately grasped her hand. “You owe me nothing. That you came with me to the grassland is the greatest joy of my life. I don’t want you to be like my mother, nearly madly protecting everything of her Kuku. I want you to love yourself, protect yourself, or… open your heart and let me protect you.”

Feng Zhiwei withdrew her hand, once again closing her eyes, silently speechless.

Heilian Zheng lay beside her, quietly watching her sleeping face. As if speaking to her yet also to himself, his voice soft, yet like countless white nails driven into the grassland’s deep, dense night.

“I’ll always be waiting here. If you won’t come over, won’t let me come over, then I’ll stay here. Just remember, when you’re tired, step back, turn around—I’m here.”

Whether anyone slept peacefully that night, no one knew. Everyone’s breathing was very calm. When everyone opened their eyes, their gazes were all clear.

That night also wasn’t as peaceful as imagined. At the drowsiest moment of midnight, inside and outside the walls, there were vaguely some strange wind sounds. When the wind sounded, Feng Zhiwei opened her eyes. But Heilian Zheng sleeping beside her didn’t move, his fingers tightly gripping the corner of her quilt.

As day was about to break, a long horn sounded from the distance, its penetrating power unveiling the spring light of the Shunyi King’s enthronement day.

Heilian Zheng sat up, saying softly, “What will happen today?”

“Today.” Feng Zhiwei sat cross-legged, her long hair cascading like flowing water, her smile faint, dazzling in the sunlight.

“Everyone will be in their place. Everyone should have their judgment. What should come will come, what should go will go. The old will be swept away, the new will be brought forth. Those who divine calamity will perish in calamity. Those who set traps will die in traps.”