“How is it her? Didn’t we hear she was in Imperial Song?”

“She’s returned. Don’t you know? Princess Hewen is about to marry Vice Chancellor Yong Xizheng!”

“What does that have to do with her?”

“What’s Yong Xizheng’s background? His status was already higher than that widow’s. Now marrying the princess shows the King greatly appreciates him. By precedent, marrying a princess brings one rank of ennoblement. He’s already Vice Chancellor—what would one more rank make him? How could that widow not be anxious?”

“Hahaha, didn’t they say the King has some feelings for that widow? Wouldn’t he be reluctant to touch her position?”

“You can’t say that. This kind of fleeting romance means nothing to important people. Our King has always had noble temperament—whatever he becomes obsessed with only lasts a while. Years ago he was obsessed with Taoists and alchemy for a while, later obsessed with the widow Fei Luo for a while too. Fei Luo staying in Imperial Song so long was itself a signal…”

“Don’t bring up the alchemy business—don’t you know that’s taboo? Speaking of it, when the divine elixir was stolen and the demon Taoist executed, how many died in Chong’an? Can’t mention it, can’t mention it…”

Jing Hengbo put down the silver in her hands and slowly raised her head, glancing at Yelu Qi under the wagon. His expression was normal.

But this normalcy was abnormal, because normally his lips carried a three-part smile. Now that smile was gone.

“Let’s go too, into the city,” Jing Hengbo instructed.

The wagon drove away. She thus didn’t hear the final conversation of those people who moved behind the wagon to organize their things.

“The King has only this one daughter, beloved as a treasure. For her grand wedding, he specially submitted a petition to Imperial Song, inviting Imperial Song’s dignitaries to observe the ceremony. I hear this time, the State Preceptor will personally attend!”

“Ah? How’s that possible! State Preceptor Gong is supremely noble, rarely appearing in public. Even the Queen’s ceremony he might not attend—how could he give the King such great face this time?”

“Who knows? Maybe important people, when extremely still, think of movement and want to visit Xiang Kingdom, the closest to Imperial Song?”

“Now the women of Xiang Kingdom will go crazy…”

…

Chong’an, the capital of Xiang Kingdom, was near the eastern border and the kingdom’s second-largest city, also its most prosperous.

Those with Imperial Song household registration could freely enter and exit the Six Kingdoms and Eight Tribes, so Jing Hengbo’s group had no difficulty entering the city. With money, everything was easily arranged. That evening they lodged at the city’s largest inn.

To avoid attention, the group entered at different times. Jing Hengbo went with Tian Qi, Zirui, and Yong Xue in one group. Seven Kills split into two groups, Yelu Qi entered alone, last into the inn.

On the way, Jing Hengbo had noticed abnormalities. City walls were being reinforced, roads swept clean, buildings facing main thoroughfares were being whitewashed, and prefecture runners were painting tree trunks white and hanging red silk—quite fresh and festive. It seemed this soon-to-be-married princess was much favored, her wedding highly valued.

Seven Kills had rushed into the inn first. When Jing Hengbo entered, she saw them deliberately lingering before her room, indicating their location. Jing Hengbo passed by as if she hadn’t seen them, hearing Er Lu whispering with the others: “Xiang Kingdom has many women, and many wealthy women too…”

Jing Hengbo paid no attention. Her first task entering the inn was requesting a bath. Having been injured, ill, and traveling on the road for many days without bathing, she felt she was about to grow moldy.

Hot water was brought. She declined Zirui and Yong Xue’s offers to help and stepped into the tub herself. When her black hair spread like clouds in the clear water, she suddenly felt somewhat dazed.

“Gong Yin, washing hair is very comfortable.”

“Mm.”

“Next time I’ll help you wash.”

“No.”

“Really, it’s so comforting… I want to wash your hair, wash your clothes, tuck you in, give birth to your children…”

She suddenly plunged her head underwater.

A splash of violent water sounded with a bang.

Outside the door, a voice suddenly spoke—Yelu Qi’s voice, slightly uneasy: “Hengbo, are you all right?”

She didn’t hear, as someone underwater couldn’t hear outside sounds.

Outside, Yelu Qi waited without hearing a response. Now truly uneasy, he raised his hand to knock on the door, but no one answered.

Yelu Qi’s eyebrows shot up as he kicked the door open with a bang!

Just then Jing Hengbo surfaced with a splash, eyes closed, face streaming with water.

Yelu Qi froze.

In this moment, the room was wreathed in steamy vapor like smoke. In the pale mist, the wooden tub was bright red, while her hair was like black satin and her face snow-white. Her face streamed with crystal water, brilliant drops trailing past red lips, flowing down her snow-white slender neck, glimmering slightly on her beautifully lined shoulders, pausing briefly in the hollow of her collarbone before finally unable to hold on, dropping one by one lower…

For a moment he didn’t know whether to continue looking or turn away. His heart suddenly began pounding heavily, beat after beat. His feet wanted to retreat but seemed unable to move. The air was filled with rich, sweet fragrance—neither flower nor wood, present yet absent, making one feel amid all the romance that flowers were blooming deep in the heart just from breathing it in while turning about.

“You…”

Jing Hengbo opened her slightly reddened eyes to see Yelu Qi’s boyishly helpless expression.

“Get out!”

A great splash of water flew out, brilliantly sparkling. Yelu Qi instinctively stepped back, suddenly sensing something amiss. Looking up at the roof beam, he cried in alarm: “Be careful!” His figure flashed as he rushed straight in.

Jing Hengbo was furious—you’re pushing your luck!

Yelu Qi rushed in, charging straight toward her bathtub, bending down to reach—

Without hesitation, Jing Hengbo grabbed the heavy wooden water ladle beside her and struck his head hard.

“Bonk!” A muffled sound. Yelu Qi, unprepared for the blow while bending to grab something, made an “uh” sound and collapsed beside her tub.

“Pervert!” Jing Hengbo cursed, then looked down and her face changed. “Ah, a snake!”

Only then did she see that somehow, Yelu Qi’s palm held a dead snake!

The snake’s head was already twisted off—its pointed head showed it was venomous.

Jing Hengbo stared blankly. Only now did she recall Yelu Qi’s earlier movements. Before rushing in, his eyes seemed to look at the beam, and his reach seemed aimed at catching something?

This snake had fallen from the beam toward her head, and he rushed in to save her?

Uh, a misunderstanding.

This bath was ruined. Seeing Yelu Qi still unconscious, she quickly got out of the tub, hastily dried herself and dressed. After thinking, she picked up Yelu Qi and teleported.

After the flash, she was in Yelu Qi’s room next door to the next door.

When she wasn’t having poison attacks, handling simple teleportation was still possible. Yelu Qi couldn’t keep lying unconscious in her room—when Zirui and Yong Xue came to carry away the water, who knew what they’d misunderstand.

Dumping Yelu Qi on the bed, she was already gasping from exhaustion and couldn’t walk immediately. She sat on his bedside to rest.

Yelu Qi’s fingers seemed to move. Thinking he’d awakened, she turned to look, but saw his eyes remained closed. Only his fingers continued grasping and releasing, as if still immersed in that moment of catching the snake for her.

Jing Hengbo’s gaze fell on Yelu Qi’s face, her heart stirring.

She suddenly realized Yelu Qi had also grown thin recently. His chin seemed sharper, with faint dark circles under his eyes. His eyelashes weren’t the long, curled type, but extremely thick and black, dense as fans. The arc beneath his eyes thus showed an unusual gentleness not normally visible.

This person who seemed to have a cool, detached nature actually had lips that weren’t thin. Asleep, without that half-smiling expression, they lay straight and lightly pressed, actually producing a bright, lovable quality—only the slightly upturned eye corners couldn’t hide their peach-blossom allure.

Jing Hengbo turned her gaze away. The sleeping Yelu Qi was different from his usual elegant beauty—nearly brilliant. But men’s appearances were just that—much like women’s, the more beautiful, the more poisonous.

Yelu Qi’s fingers continued grasping, slowly approaching her hand. She immediately stood up, preparing to leave.

Anyway, one knock wouldn’t kill anyone. After being unconscious for an hour or so, he should wake up.

Just as she was about to open the door, several strange sounds suddenly came from outside.

Seven short, one long—sounding like cricket chirping, but in this weather, where would crickets come from?

Jing Hengbo immediately changed her door-opening motion to door-closing, because the sound was right outside.

A moment later, a slip of paper was pushed through the door crack. Jing Hengbo considered, then pulled the paper to herself.

As soon as she took the paper, the other party seemed to have completed their task. Extremely light footsteps passed by. Jing Hengbo waited for the footsteps to disappear before opening the door. She only saw a hurrying figure entering the courtyard, looking like any inn servant.

She didn’t pursue, looked back to see Yelu Qi still unconscious, then opened the paper in her hand.

“Midnight under the moon at the old ancestral hall, old friends return—do not forget.”

It looked like a meeting invitation. Jing Hengbo noticed a pattern in the paper’s corner—golden and familiar. She turned the paper back and forth, accidentally catching reflected sunlight that showed the pattern’s shadow on the wall, vaguely resembling a flower.

Looking more carefully, the pattern seemed to be half a golden hibiscus flower.

Jing Hengbo immediately recalled the marking on Fei Luo’s carriage she’d seen today.

Oh? Fei Luo was meeting Yelu Qi? She’d seen Yelu Qi today? Had she noticed her as well?

Jing Hengbo had always been very interested in the relationship between Fei Luo and Yelu Qi—she clearly remembered before entering the Great Wilderness, when Yelu Qi had infiltrated Gong Yin’s tent for assassination and encountered Fei Luo, his strange expression and Fei Luo’s word “brother.”

Jing Hengbo considered, then refolded the paper as it was, stuck it in the door crack, went out and closed the door, wedging a small stone in the door hinge.

Returning to her room, she called for a servant to clean up the water and dead snake, casually rewarding the servant with half a string of copper coins: “Please, young man, buy me some things.”

Soon the servant diligently brought what she’d requested—a large box filled with rouge and powder, face clay, and some wool brushes and such, plus another large box of clothing.

“Miss, you wanted all available rouge colors in the market. This small one ran all over the city and finally found them for you,” the servant said obsequiously.

Jing Hengbo casually gave him more reward money, smiling: “My husband doesn’t like me buying these things. Remember to keep it secret, young man.”

“Of course, of course.” The servant left happily. Jing Hengbo opened the boxes and began applying makeup.

Her makeup box and everything else had been left at Jade Guard Palace. Now she could only use these market goods.

As a makeup expert, learning how to create another face was an essential skill. Moreover, after arriving in the Great Wilderness, she’d learned some disguise techniques from A Shan.

Using wool brushes to darken, thicken, and emphasize her eyebrows, face clay to change her nose contour, extremely fine tendon threads buried in eye corners to elongate the eye tails, different colored rouge to reshape facial contours, dark powder to change her face and neck skin color, then reapplying powder to set the makeup.

Half an hour later, the mirror showed a woman with healthy honey-golden skin, thick eyebrows and elongated eyes, a high pointed nose—at first glance having an exotic appearance.

Superb makeup artistry could sometimes achieve disguise effects, using light, shadow, and visual illusions to create different facial appearances.

Changing her clothes and even her usual undergarments, she used for the first time the Great Wilderness women’s breast-binding cloth she’d previously disdained, flattening her normally proud chest.

Sometimes when certain physical features were too prominent, they formed distinctive personal characteristics. Once no longer conspicuous, they could create the illusion of being a different person.

With flattened chest, padded waist, and belt moved lower, she suddenly looked like a woman with a long torso, average figure, and underdeveloped body. A woman’s chest and waist were key to creating overall curves—once gone, the difference was enormous.

The woman in the mirror wore blue clothing—neither eye-catching nor shabby, neither fat nor slender, not particularly beautiful but not ugly either. From any perspective, she was an ordinary woman who would be hard to notice on the street.

Jing Hengbo snapped her fingers, satisfied with her skills that hadn’t deteriorated.

She also practiced her voice. Seven Kills had taught her a throat compression technique to change her voice. Seven Kills had many practical or impractical small skills she planned to learn gradually along the way.

Now she just had to wait for dark.

When Zirui came to bring dinner, she blew out the lamp and lay on the bed with her back to Zirui under the covers, saying she’d sleep first then eat. Her meals were always irregular, and Zirui, fearing to disturb her sleep, didn’t insist.

Jing Hengbo actually did nap briefly, opening her eyes bright and alert when night deepened.

The residual poison in her body acted up from time to time. When it flared, her whole body was powerless, but her spirits seemed good now—hopefully there’d be no problems.

Calculating the time was about right, she carefully listened to sounds from next door’s next door, suddenly hearing the door hinge creak.

The sound was very light but clear in the quiet night.

She immediately got up and teleported to Tian Qi’s room downstairs.

Tian Qi wasn’t sleeping yet, writing something by lamplight. Startled by someone suddenly appearing, his hand trembled, and the thin paper was swept up by his elbow into the candle flame, burning up.

With something on her mind, Jing Hengbo paid no attention, grinning quietly: “Hey, it’s me.”

Before he could recognize her voice, the surprised-looking Tian Qi could respond, she had already stepped forward to take his arm: “Come with me somewhere.”

…

Tian Qi carried Jing Hengbo, racing across rooftops in the dark night, with Yelu Qi’s fluttering figure ahead.

Jing Hengbo lay comfortably on Tian Qi’s back without any psychological burden. Tian Qi had excellent lightness skills, was good at concealing traces, had a casual nature, and most importantly, being alone with him was like being with a woman—very relaxed.

Yelu Qi seemed very familiar with the route, heading straight for the city outskirts. From afar, he stopped before a large stretch of connected buildings with high eaves and beams, blue tiles and golden bells—looking like a wealthy family’s compound, except weeds grew wild on the tiles and much was dilapidated, as if the owners had moved away.

In the moonlight, Yelu Qi’s silver-black robes fluttered, his figure dreamlike as if about to merge into the night’s faint mist.

Since he’d stopped, Tian Qi naturally had to descend and find a place to hide. As he landed, Jing Hengbo suddenly felt his feet tremble.

“What’s wrong?” she immediately asked.

Tian Qi landed—this was a side street with a small earth god shrine nearby. He glanced at the shrine in the darkness, suddenly clutched his stomach, saying: “My stomach seems to hurt a bit…”

Jing Hengbo rolled her eyes, saying irritably: “Then quickly take care of it.”

Tian Qi trotted toward the back of the shrine. A moment later, he stuck his head out holding a clay mask: “This shrine even has an earth god mask. Look, do I look like an earth god grandpa?”

Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected Tian Qi to have such childlike innocence. She giggled: “Yes, yes. Earth God Grandpa, quickly take care of business first. Be careful—steal someone’s mask and defecate behind their shrine, and the real earth god might steal your soul.”

Tian Qi chuckled, put the mask on his face, and withdrew his head.

Jing Hengbo flashed onto the wall top, just seeing Yelu Qi’s figure descending toward those buildings.

So the destination was there.

Just as she was about to follow, a figure flashed beside her—Tian Qi appeared. Jing Hengbo was startled: “So fast.”

Tian Qi didn’t speak, his black robes fluttering, still wearing the earth god mask.

Jing Hengbo patted his back, indicating he should crouch down so she could climb up.

Tian Qi looked at her.

Through the mask, his eyes were black as deep night, with a dark gleam.

Jing Hengbo only focused on watching where Yelu Qi had disappeared, urgently urging: “Hurry up.”

Tian Qi obediently crouched down. Jing Hengbo climbed onto his back. As Tian Qi stood up, his hands instinctively curved under her legs, supporting her.

Jing Hengbo’s body suddenly stiffened.

She vaguely felt this motion was familiar—familiar to the point of seeming carved into her life, yet having been erased in an instant.

The back beneath her also seemed to stiffen.

Jing Hengbo was momentarily dazed, then laughed, patting Tian Qi’s back: “That’s right. Now I’m secure. Earlier you didn’t support me, making me desperately clutch your neck—so tiring.”

Tian Qi seemed to smile, tightened his arms, and leaped up.

“In that direction, the third rooftop,” Jing Hengbo focused on giving directions.

Moments later they arrived, crouching on the rooftop to look down. Below, desolate grass grew wild with frequent appearances of foxes and rats—indeed an abandoned mansion. From the architectural style below, it was an old ancestral hall, the kind wealthy families built in inner courtyards. Presumably when the family moved, this ancestral hall was also abandoned.

Yelu Qi stood in the courtyard with hands behind his back, not entering the ancestral hall.

Suddenly, the sound of a qin came from within the hall.

The qin music came abruptly, a sudden note like a silver vase shattering, startling the night’s silence. Immediately, foxes and rats scattered about the courtyard, and wild grass flew about.

Jing Hengbo was also startled, her eyebrows jumping. She looked down at the roof tiles—beneath these very tiles, someone was there!

Tonight the moonlight was hazy, the crescent moon emanating faint azure light, illuminating the deep ghostly grass in the courtyard. Flying birds and beasts rustled through the grass, making the night seem even more desolate, while the plaintive qin music added another three parts of ghostly atmosphere.

Yelu Qi didn’t enter the building. He listened to the qin music with slightly furrowed brows, moonlight slanting across his cheek with several parts coolness and several parts pallor.

The qin music quickened urgently, as if urging. With a bang, the ancestral hall door was suddenly blown open by wind. Yelu Qi looked up, his expression complex and indescribable for a moment.

Jing Hengbo watched his half-face in the pale moonlight, wondering if he’d seen a red-clothed female ghost.

After a moment, Yelu Qi finally stepped forward and entered the ancestral hall. Jing Hengbo listened to the qin music’s direction and quietly crawled, wanting to lift nearby tiles to peek.

A hand suddenly pressed on her hand’s back, stopping her further movement. Jing Hengbo froze and turned back. Tian Qi behind her was leaning close to press her down, and her lips brushed exactly against his earlobe.

Tian Qi stiffened.

In the moonlight, Jing Hengbo clearly saw his earlobe turn red almost immediately.

An earlobe like a jade pearl suddenly became a coral bead.

Jing Hengbo was stunned. This scene was fatally familiar, so much so that pain immediately began in her heart and lungs, making her unconsciously furrow her brow.

Tian Qi slightly moved away, raising his head. Wind swept from the blue eaves, scattering his black hair at the temples, revealing a smoothly lined neck.

Jing Hengbo looked up at him, suddenly feeling that in this moment, Tian Qi wearing the ridiculous earth god mask had extraordinary elegance.

Then she laughed—Tian Qi’s face? Forget it.

She extended her finger, smiling as she pointed at him, then pointed at the roof tiles below, indicating: You handle this.

Her crystalline fingernail gleamed faintly. Without nail polish, it was especially clean and neat, only the half-moon at the nail base was slightly purple due to lingering poison.

Tian Qi’s gaze swept over her finger, then he nodded, gently leaning down to brush his fingers across the roof tiles.

Where his palm passed, dust rose and the tiles disappeared.

Only then did Jing Hengbo discover several tiles were broken—if she’d lifted them directly, it would certainly have made noise.

Tian Qi’s skill was really good. She gave a thumbs up in approval and poked her head down to look.

Inside there really was a red-clothed female ghost… oh no, woman.

The qin player was indeed Fei Luo, but now the qin had been pushed aside. Fei Luo had drawn up her feet, curled on the qin stool in a posture like a little girl, looking lovingly at Yelu Qi.

Yelu Qi stood before the qin, reaching out to pluck the strings absently.

“Brother.” Fei Luo’s opening address again thundered through Jing Hengbo.

Seeing Fei Luo’s intimate, innocent expression like a little girl in the dim lamplight, she couldn’t help shuddering.

Behind her, Tian Qi seemed to think she was cold. After considering, he untied the black short cloak from his body and draped it over her shoulders.

Jing Hengbo was startled and turned to look, catching sight of Tian Qi awkwardly extending his pinky finger, and couldn’t help smiling.

Who would have thought this guy could be as delicate as a woman sometimes?

Below the tiles, Fei Luo was extending her hand, beckoning to Yelu Qi: “Brother, why don’t you come closer?”

Yelu Qi casually plucked strings, not raising his head: “Summoning me at midnight just to chat?”

“Can’t I?” Fei Luo said coquettishly. “Think how long it’s been since we had a proper conversation? In Imperial Song, though so close, you always avoided me, leaving me alone in a foreign land. How could you bear it?”

The words “bear it” slipped softly from red lips, not like complaints but like an invitation.

“Alone?” Yelu Qi smiled. “What a lively ‘alone.'”

“Are you blaming me…” Fei Luo’s body softly leaned across the qin. Yelu Qi immediately stepped back to the qin’s end.

Fei Luo wasn’t embarrassed, taking the opportunity to stretch lazily, smoothing her hair with a charming smile: “You… your temperament grows more gloomy.”

Yelu Qi smiled without speaking, his expression clearly urging her on.

Fei Luo seemed to have no choice with him and had to get straight to the point: “Today in the carriage I saw you standing roadside and thought I’d mistaken someone. Shouldn’t you be going to Yu Kingdom? How did you end up in Xiang Kingdom? What, had another conflict with the family? Or just don’t want to go home?” She crossed her hands, hugged her knees, and looked up at him with a smile: “Right, you didn’t come because you were thinking of me, did you?”

Jing Hengbo noted this posture was good for enhancing cleavage, unfortunately Fei Luo was naturally insufficient in that area.

Yelu Qi’s gaze floated only over the qin body, his fingers producing ding-dong sounds without showing irritation: “If you think so, then so it is.”

“Or perhaps you know Xiang Kingdom will have great changes and want to muddy the waters?” In the lamplight, Fei Luo’s lips curved like flowers, but her eyes held no smile.

“Perhaps it could be said that way too.” Yelu Qi also smiled, his fingers gradually forming a melody. Phoenix Seeking Phoenix.

Only now no one was in the mood to hear music. Tian Qi’s gaze flickered. Jing Hengbo couldn’t understand at all, just found the twanging sounds annoying, interfering with her eavesdropping.

Fei Luo impatiently stood up, stomping her feet heavily: “Brother, we needn’t beat around the bush anymore. I just returned to Xiang Kingdom today and came to find you—you know it must be urgent business. Let’s skip the small talk. Now you’re temporarily disadvantaged, and I face crisis too. Will you help me?”

“Oh?”

“If you help me, I’ll naturally repay you.” Fei Luo said resolutely. “As long as I resolve this current crisis, destroy Yong Xizheng, and secure my position as Xiang Kingdom’s Female Prime Minister—or even advance further—then I can help you oppose Gong Yin and reclaim the power he’s been suppressing from you!”

Yelu Qi smiled: “Oh? Aren’t you already Xiang Kingdom’s Female Prime Minister? When Gong Yin was suppressing me, I didn’t see you help me then.”

Fei Luo’s face showed slight embarrassment: “There was no opportunity then—you kept avoiding me. Now it’s different. Xiang Kingdom is my territory, and I have ways to help you obtain an important secret about Gong Yin…”

Jing Hengbo’s finger suddenly trembled.

It touched a broken tile beside her with a crack.

Though not loud, the sound was clear. Jing Hengbo silently cursed, just thinking to flash away when she was already lifted by Tian Qi behind her, gathered into his embrace, and they flew backward.

He held Jing Hengbo as they flashed back, his finger brushing the short black cloak from her body, which fell exactly over the opened hole.

Below the tiles, Fei Luo looked up: “What was that sound!”

The ancestral hall was very high, the lamplight dim. With the black cloth covering the hole, it looked no different from roof tiles. She squinted but couldn’t make it out for the moment.

Yelu Qi suddenly leaned slightly, pinched her chin, and smiled: “I played a wrong note—are you so startled by that?” He paused, saying with some sentiment: “Fei Luo, you still look most real, most… dear when startled like this.”

Fei Luo was stunned, slowly turning to look at him, then her eyes blazed with wild joy.

For so many years, she’d tried countless times to talk with him about old times, to evoke his tender memories of the past and fill the enormous chasm carved by separation and resolution. But perhaps because the initial wound was too severe, or perhaps the cold from those years had long penetrated to the bone, he smiled, drifted, avoided, spoke evasively—like a wisp of smoke floating here and there, always leaving her unable to grasp anything.

But now, finally hearing him bring it up voluntarily.

“Brother…” She immediately responded emotionally, slowly pressing her face against his palm: “Do you know? Without you, all these years my heart has always been desolate…”

On the eaves, Jing Hengbo and Tian Qi still stood rigidly.

She was held in Tian Qi’s arms, his arms around her waist, their warmth faintly transmitting between them. For a moment her mind was somewhat confused.

Partly from the recent fright, partly from bewilderment at the current moment.

But after a moment she cleared her head, using her fingertip to poke Tian Qi’s wrist. What was wrong with this guy today?

One poke revealed his arm was hard but very warm.

Her finger slowly paused, thoughtful.

He trembled slightly, quickly releasing her. The two faced each other dazedly for a while, then Jing Hengbo changed direction and crouched quietly by the hole again.

Tian Qi didn’t approach for a while, his long hair slightly disheveled in the wind.

The conversational atmosphere below had changed from before.

“Brother…” Fei Luo suddenly overturned the qin and threw herself into Yelu Qi’s arms: “I failed your trust then, betraying the family—I was wrong. Will you… will you forgive me…”

Yelu Qi was silent, his face slightly pale in the candlelight. After a long while: “As an adopted daughter, your unwillingness to depend on the family and wanting to break free when you had better opportunities was originally understandable. But these words seeking forgiveness need not be said to me—perhaps you should say them to Xunru instead.”

Fei Luo’s face paled, trembling: “I wronged Sister Xunru too…”

“Xunru and I both treated you as a sister, never considering you an adopted daughter. So when you cried and begged us then, we both risked everything to help you…” Yelu Qi’s voice grew lower: “I deeply regret that Xunru suffered misfortune because of you, but fortunately she never knew you were the one who harmed her.”

“I… I…” Fei Luo hung her head sobbing: “…I was confused then…”

Jing Hengbo quietly raised her middle finger above—fake crying also required skill. Could she be more sincere?

“I also became the family’s sinner because of you.” Yelu Qi said flatly. “But seeing you advance step by step, achieving success and glory, rising from orphan girl to Xiang Kingdom’s Female Prime Minister—that’s quite consoling.”

Jing Hengbo frowned, feeling something was off about these words. Synthesizing the two’s conversation, Fei Luo should have originally been an orphan adopted by Yelu Qi’s parents, which was why she called him brother despite no blood relation. They probably had childhood sweethearts days together. Then Fei Luo grew up unwilling to be an obscure adopted daughter in a great family, so she attached herself to powerful people wanting to break free. But her departure definitely wasn’t honorable—perhaps becoming someone’s concubine or such, which the prestigious Yelu family certainly wouldn’t allow. This led to conflict, and presumably Yelu Qi protected Fei Luo then, but the outcome was tragic. Of course Fei Luo didn’t bear the consequences—she ultimately did achieve success and glory.

Yelu Qi’s status as “family sinner” was quite puzzling though. If he were a family sinner, how could they let him represent the Yelu family as Left State Preceptor? But speaking of it, previously in Imperial Song, though the Yelu family had a grand mansion, few Yelu family members participated in court politics. Often Yelu Qi fought alone while the Yelu family developed more in their home country Yu Kingdom. From this perspective, it really did have a redemptive flavor…

“Brother…” Fei Luo suddenly seemed unable to contain her emotions, throwing herself into Yelu Qi’s arms and hugging him tightly: “Help me… help me…”

The trembling sobs echoed plaintively in the quiet night, their tonal rises and falls seeming polished and refined, like laments and moans that made one’s whole body tingle and tremble. Jing Hengbo rubbed her arms and looked at Tian Qi beside her—he remained motionless, his eyes flickering with light.

This guy had good self-control…

But Yelu Qi might not be the same. Childhood sweethearts, beauty in his arms, old memories sighing, pear blossoms with rain—Jing Hengbo was somewhat worried. If restricted scenes developed below, should she risk lifting the black cloth covering the hole to watch, or just listen?

Yelu Qi’s voice below seemed finally affected, slightly deeper: “How can I help you?”

Hearing his tone soften, Fei Luo was overjoyed and quickly said: “Very simple. Just kill Yong Xizheng. But he always hides well, absolutely refusing to go out easily. Whenever he travels, he has hundreds of guards—assassins can hardly succeed. But he can’t avoid appearing for his wedding. When the princess marries down, by custom there will be a grand palace banquet. You accompany me to attend. I’ll stay in everyone’s sight while you find a chance to help me solve him. We can also frame Ni Yifan—he’s liked Princess Hewen for a long time but stepped aside due to his friendship with Yong Xizheng and generational reasons. He’s the most capable competitor for Grand Chancellor besides Yong Xizheng. Perfect to kill two birds with one stone, eliminating him root and branch too!”

“Oh? Good plan.” Yelu Qi said slowly. “Then, what identity should I use to accompany you? Naturally, my real identity won’t work.”

“This… siblings?” Fei Luo glanced at his expression.

“Didn’t you not want people to know your background?” Yelu Qi’s smile wasn’t quite a smile.

“Then… fiancé?” Fei Luo immediately voiced her real thought.

Yelu Qi stared at her, his lips slowly curving up.

Jing Hengbo listened and pursed her lips—women’s greatest skill was wishful thinking.

She suddenly felt something was wrong—there seemed to be another person beside her. She slowly raised her head to see someone had suddenly crouched next to her, a pair of slightly narrowed eyes with hints of intoxication examining her up and down.

Not Tian Qi!

Before this thought could flash through Jing Hengbo’s mind, there was a “whoosh” overhead. Wind swept past as Tian Qi struck.

The suddenly appearing person flew up smoothly, robes dancing, body twisting strangely in mid-air as he reached to grab Tian Qi’s mask.

Tian Qi immediately dodged, turning and flipping in a strange arc, his hand suddenly emerging from beneath the person’s feet to grip his ankle and fling him outward.

The person was thrown out like paper, soundlessly, swaying like willow catkins in the wind. Just as he was flung beyond the rooftop range, his toe hooked against a nearby large tree, and with a whoosh he flipped back, palm wind sweeping still toward Tian Qi’s mask.

Tian Qi again bounced to dodge, his form floating up like smoke, flipping over the person’s back.

The two fought rolling and tumbling on the roof tiles. Jing Hengbo watched stunned—both feared alarming those below, both held back in their strikes, both pushed their lightness skills to the extreme. Though they seemed to fight earth-shakingly, not a sound emerged, not a tile was disturbed, not even a few dried grass stems in the old tile cracks were broken. In the moonlight, only black and blue shadows could be seen tumbling like clouds, grappling into balls. Watching long enough, one might mistake them for two tangled, conflicting wisps of smoke.

But watching longer, Jing Hengbo gradually saw the way of it. Tian Qi’s strikes were considerably higher than this mysteriously appearing person’s, but he had more concerns—he couldn’t make sound, had to consider her, and even had to protect his own mask.

Jing Hengbo saw this, and the uninvited guest naturally saw it too. Suddenly twisting, he slipped back and reached for Jing Hengbo with his other hand.

Tian Qi was greatly alarmed and immediately flashed over. The person grinned, withdrew his hand reaching for Jing Hengbo, and went for Tian Qi’s mask again.

Tian Qi dodged again. This person attacked Jing Hengbo again, reaching to touch her face. Tian Qi swept over like lightning. The person’s finger brushed past Jing Hengbo’s cheek, flipped and lay flat, raised his hand, and persistently grabbed for Tian Qi’s mask again.

Tian Qi had to dodge again. After three rounds like this, he seemed truly angered. His sleeve swept, and Jing Hengbo suddenly felt the air around tighten. Simultaneously, the slippery fish-like person’s form also froze, and Tian Qi’s five fingers like hooks descended.

The person only had time to flick his sleeve, shooting out a steel pin straight at Tian Qi’s face, then closed his eyes awaiting death.

“Ding.” A soft sound, and Jing Hengbo saw a fine crack appear on Tian Qi’s mask.

Tian Qi’s body paused, then seemed struck, falling backward into the trees behind the building.

Jing Hengbo was alarmed—the steel pin had injured him? That didn’t seem possible!

Just as she was about to rush over to look, she heard a stern shout from below: “Who’s there!”

Jing Hengbo silently cursed—she’d watched the fight too intently and forgotten about the people below. The steel pin’s sound must have been heard.

The person across from her suddenly smiled at her.

When he smiled, his eyes curved beautifully.

But Jing Hengbo’s heart jumped with instinctive unease.

Before she could escape, the person reached out, gently and skillfully pushing her.

Jing Hengbo whooshed down.

In that instant she had no time to think, quickly teleporting to ensure she wouldn’t fall to her death.

After steadying, her first reaction was to curse in her heart: Sister will definitely skin this guy when I get back!

Her second reaction was to look up and smile at Yelu Qi, who was watching her with a half-smile, and Fei Luo, who stared dumbfounded.

“You…” Fei Luo pointed at her, face slightly pale. Realizing what had happened, killing intent flashed in her eyes.

“She…” Yelu Qi immediately started to speak.

“My fiancé—why should I let you pretend to be his wife?” Jing Hengbo gracefully stepped forward, naturally taking Yelu Qi’s arm. “I’ll do it myself.”