The letter paper fell onto her knees. Jing Hengbo opened her mouth, wanting to scream, but the letter paper fell directly to the ground. In mid-air, flames flickered, and it actually began to burn.

Jing Hengbo hurriedly tried to grab it—there were still words behind, still crucial information that couldn’t be burned.

But the letter paper was very light, and after burning it flew about like a bird that she couldn’t catch. Fortunately, the burning paper floated very slowly. In her desperation, she could only lift her leg to block the letter paper against her thigh.

Strangely enough, the moment the letter paper landed on her leg, it immediately stopped burning. Jing Hengbo sighed in relief and grabbed the letter paper, fearing the important content had already been burned. But when she looked at the letter, her nose nearly twisted with anger—after that previous section, there was directly a large blank space with nothing written, and the burning had perfectly burned away that blank section without affecting the content behind. Even the burning hadn’t been complete, not destroying any part, just turning the snow-white paper quality gray.

In other words, even if she hadn’t caught it or grabbed it, this thing wouldn’t have truly been destroyed. What was this guy trying to accomplish with this stunt?

Jing Hengbo knew well the brocade-clothed man’s treacherous nature. After pondering for a long time and finding it truly difficult to fathom, she could only continue reading. But reading further was a great disappointment—this scoundrel didn’t tell her about Wen Zhen’s current situation at all, only mysteriously saying, “Soon, I think, you’ll be able to know the whereabouts of the old friends you want to know about.”

At the end he said: “On this return to my country, I passed by a certain snowy mountain and encountered quite interesting events that I think would interest you. However, this king never shows kindness to people without reason, so I’ll keep this matter to myself. In the future, if you encounter life-and-death difficulties that you cannot resolve yourself, you may go to Pugan’s Alon Temple, kneel for three days and three nights, and it will naturally be beneficial.”

Jing Hengbo snorted through her nose—what life-threatening matter could she have that she couldn’t solve? Even if there were such matters, could a foreign prince from a distant country help? And kneeling for three days and three nights—bah!

The letter ended there. She was dazed for a while, couldn’t help reading “Wen Zhen is in Dong Tang and is about to become my princess consort. How about it? Can you come to observe the ceremony?” repeatedly, her heart truly unsettled.

Was Wen Zhen really getting married?

Really marrying that scoundrel?

At first it seemed incredible—how could those two possibly get together? But thinking it over carefully, she felt they were quite a match—one bad, one cunning.

Wen Zhen, like a soft, tender honey dumpling, had always appeared gentle, naive, and sweet. Probably only the other three in the world knew that when it came to scheming, if she modestly claimed second place, no one would dare claim first.

Of the four-person research team, Taishi Lan had a tough personality but never meddled in others’ affairs and never harmed people without cause. She, Jing Hengbo, enjoyed appreciating handsome men and fashionable things, with the life goal of capturing the most handsome man through her own fashionability, having no interest in scheming whatsoever. Jun Ke needn’t be mentioned—completely honest and sincere. Only Wen Zhen would look at the holes in a piece of tofu she was cooking and consider whether she could stuff some laxatives in them.

Someone like the brocade-clothed man wasn’t something normal people could handle. Only Wen Zhen, with her belly that could hold all the world’s schemes and her sinister heart beneath that naive exterior—as boundaryless as his—could probably digest him.

Thinking of Wen Zhen getting married, she immediately became excited again—the four of them had agreed that no matter who got married, everyone must attend!

Just as she was about to excitedly stand up and have someone pack for travel, she glanced up and saw her subordinate still respectfully waiting for a reply below the steps. She suddenly froze.

She couldn’t leave.

Daimao hadn’t been completely taken over yet, the fifteen gangs hadn’t been dealt with, she hadn’t yet gained a firm foothold. She couldn’t abandon Gong Yin at this moment and travel far to Dong Tang.

Moreover, what kind of person was the brocade-clothed man? Going to Dong Tang just because of one sentence from him—what if it was just a trap?

Somehow, she instinctively believed Little Cake and the brocade-clothed man indeed had a relationship, but she didn’t believe his claim about already taking her as princess consort.

Wen Zhen wasn’t that easy to handle. Besides, a man truly immersed in love wouldn’t be as neurotic as the brocade-clothed man. His behavior was more like being interested in something but not getting it for the time being, with some suppressed frustration and confusion. Thinking back now, every time she and Gong Yin were sweet together, she would always sense a dissatisfied gaze—nine times out of ten it was that guy.

Jing Hengbo chuckled coldly—already reached third base? Dream on. Trying to trick her into going as a hostage to threaten Little Cake?

Suddenly she noticed the letter paper seemed to have something on the back. Turning it over, she saw two words in the middle of the back: “perhaps.”

The entire back had just these two words, looking inexplicable. She turned the letter paper back and forth, inadvertently holding it up to the light, and discovered those two words “perhaps” on the back were positioned exactly between “Wen Zhen is in Dong Tang” and “about to become my princess consort” on the front.

Reading front and back together, it became “Wen Zhen is in Dong Tang, perhaps about to become my princess consort.”

Jing Hengbo’s nose twisted with anger again.

Of all the world’s scoundrels, none exceeded this one.

She had almost been tricked into going!

Angry in her heart, her finger pressure became heavier. The letter paper, having been burned after all, cracked from the middle with a snap, and in the torn section, yet another small piece of paper appeared.

Jing Hengbo had become accustomed to the brocade-clothed man’s endless tricks. Picking up the paper strip, it read: “Oh, you discovered it? I told you her sisters wouldn’t be too stupid.”

Jing Hengbo laughed coldly. Is Wen Zhen so smart that you can’t handle her?

The next line read: “Since I’m telling you good news, you tell me too—how do I make that girl obediently listen?”

Jing Hengbo threw back her head and laughed three thousand times.

Indeed he’d been bragging before, indeed frustrated! About to become your princess consort? Ha! Be careful that when children are running all over the place, she won’t even acknowledge you as her husband.

How to handle her?

Let me tell you…

No way!

Another line below the paper strip read: “I know you sisters have deep affection and will surely help me. If so, I naturally have ways to thank you.”

Jing Hengbo stared at the paper strip, laughing coldly three times: “Yes, I have deep sisterly affection with her, so of course I’ll help you. I just wonder how you plan to give me your thanks? By having me kneel at Pugan’s Alon Temple for three days?”

She chuckled coldly, crumpled the paper strip in irritation, stretched lazily, and prepared to stand up.

Then her raised arms suddenly stopped in mid-air.

This movement startled the attendants standing far away below the steps, who hurriedly ran over thinking the female king had been hit by a hidden weapon. But before they could reach her, they saw the female king slowly lower her arms. The attendants had just relaxed when they saw the female king’s gaze become vacant, murmuring: “Holy crap, I can’t stand up anymore…”

…

A quarter-hour later, Jing Hengbo’s council hall was packed with people.

Everyone who knew some medicine had taken her pulse, all saying she was poisoned. Where did the poison come from? Jing Hengbo produced the brocade-clothed man’s letter, but couldn’t figure out how she had been poisoned. She had worn a mask and gloves—how could she be poisoned? How could the poisoning affect her legs?

Only when she suddenly remembered an earlier action—the letter paper had suddenly ignited, she had hurried to save it, and in her haste had blocked the letter paper with her leg surface. Afterward, because the letter paper had become brittle from burning, she didn’t dare pick it up carelessly lest it crumble, keeping it on her leg surface the whole time.

The physician used a knife to cut open the skirt where the letter paper had been placed, and indeed found a patch of pale blue on her leg surface and knee. Daimao was in the north of the Great Wilderness, relatively cold, and the hall currently had fire braziers burning, making it very warm, so Jing Hengbo wore little. She also liked thin, soft, semi-transparent fabrics, wearing a gauze dress.

The opponent had calculated that she would read the letter with both hands, and when shocked to see Wen Zhen about to marry, the letter paper would shake or fall. The letter paper was specially designed to be particularly light—once it shook it would self-ignite, once self-ignited it would fly up, once airborne it would scatter poison. At this time Jing Hengbo’s hands couldn’t catch it, so her instinctive action would be to lift her leg to block it, as legs had more surface area than hands.

Though Jing Hengbo could manipulate objects, when she saw important things burning and flying up, she wouldn’t use object manipulation, as rapid object manipulation would cause more intense burning. At that time, Jing Hengbo extremely valued the letter’s content and wouldn’t bear to let it burn.

Everyone looked at each other—this poisoning method was truly inconceivable. The opponent had not only made sophisticated designs to the letter, but had actually calculated Jing Hengbo’s climate and temperature when receiving the letter, her clothing, and even possible reaction movements.

Jing Hengbo nearly spat blood.

Of all the world’s scoundrels, none exceeded this one!

Wasn’t he asking for help? Why did he paralyze her!

A large crowd gathered around her bed in panic. Because they had truly never seen this kind of poison and had no way to find an antidote, Jing Hengbo gradually calmed down. Currently in the Great Wilderness, there really was no one who understood the brocade-clothed man’s character better than she did. He never did anything without reason and didn’t like to go to extremes—he definitely had his reasons and definitely left himself an escape route.

So the answer still had to be found in that letter that had been burned and torn apart.

The letter paper lay on the table with no one daring to touch it. The physician prepared to take it back for study. With many people around, someone bumped the table, making the letter paper shake and the fallen paper strip roll.

Jing Hengbo’s gaze fixed on that paper strip.

Rolling…

She picked up the paper strip, removed her gloves, and amid everyone’s chorus of “Your Majesty don’t! Your Majesty be careful!” dissuasion, she touched and touched the paper strip again, then removed her poison-prevention mask and smelled the paper strip.

She was already poisoned anyway—what was there to fear?

Removing those cumbersome things, she discovered this paper strip’s texture wasn’t like paper at all, but smooth as jade. At this moment even the writing on it was almost invisible, and the smell wasn’t paper-like either, emanating a cool, light fragrance.

Jing Hengbo closed her eyes and thought for a while, nodded, and swallowed the paper strip in one gulp.

Everyone was dumbfounded, screaming “Your Majesty!” all thinking the female king must have gone mad with anger, eating paper in her extreme madness.

The recently very tense Zirui rushed over, ignoring rank to squeeze her throat: “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

Jing Hengbo pushed her away with one hand, chewed a bit, swallowed it, and even nodded: “Tastes pretty good.”

Zirui was already considering whether to find a physician skilled in mental treatment.

Jing Hengbo truly felt it tasted good.

The thing automatically rolled into a ball upon entering her mouth, smooth and cool—clearly a medicinal pill.

Good medicinal pills have pure taste. Having eaten quite a few good things, she knew immediately upon tasting it that she had indeed guessed correctly.

After the pill entered her stomach, first came a cool line. That coolness was bone-deep, making her shiver involuntarily. She suddenly felt the cold qi in her body had been stirred up, and with a whoosh, snow waves surged. She became a bit nervous, knowing that when she had previously absorbed Gong Yin’s scattered cold qi, she had left herself with a hidden ailment. Now it seemed to have been triggered?

But the triggering was only momentary. Then that line of coolness suddenly turned warm and gentle, like a small cluster of flames meeting the vast snow waves stirred up in her body. Strangely, though the snow waves came fiercely, they could never cross that flame’s thin line of light. That bit of warmth, though dim and flickering, was boundless—no matter how intimidating the cold snow waves, before that warm firelight, they gradually dissolved and disappeared…

She had some understanding in her heart.

This seemed to be medicine to resolve the cold poison in her body, only this effect was extremely slow. She really didn’t know how long it would take to completely remove it.

Also, this medicine seemed to have no effect on her leg paralysis. What did the brocade-clothed man mean by crippling her legs?

Candlelight flickered, reflecting the changing expressions on her face. Everyone nervously watched her face, fearing she would collapse right then, immediately plunging Daimao into fragmented chaos.

After a long while, Jing Hengbo opened her eyes, slowly exhaled a long breath, and was about to smile when she suddenly saw everyone’s tense expressions. Her heart stirred.

Such tension contained worry for her safety, but also deeper, more intense worry about the situation, prospects, and consequences if she fell.

With Daimao unsettled, her life connected to countless people’s safety. If she fell, millions would die, blood would flow like rivers. She was no longer the carefree wandering Jing Hengbo—she had to be first and foremost the Daimao Female King.

Jing Hengbo’s mood sank, feeling certain thoughts seemed even more distant now.

“It’s fine,” she smiled. “A friend played a joke on me. This paper strip was the antidote.”

Everyone collectively exhaled long breaths, their faces regaining color.

Someone was about to take the letter paper to burn it when Jing Hengbo’s heart stirred: “Burn it here.”

Everyone immediately sought masks, armed to the teeth.

The letter paper was thrown into the fire basin. Jing Hengbo watched the paper slowly curl up, then suddenly said: “Wait!”

Zirui used tongs to lift out the not-yet-burned letter paper. Indeed, the previously burned blank section now showed writing again.

Jing Hengbo held her forehead.

The brocade-clothed man’s tricks were like a kaleidoscope—would they never end?

“Last sentence: You have cold poison root illness, and I’m helping you remove it. This is my thank-you gift—you remember to reciprocate. But this cold-expelling process is slow and forbids movement and exertion, so first I’ve bound your legs. Within three months, you can be a bedridden invalid. You also needn’t attend my and Wen Zhen’s wedding—just send your blessings and gifts. Don’t renege—you know me.”

“…”

After a long while, Jing Hengbo viciously slammed the burned letter paper onto the table. Her roar echoed throughout Shangyuan Palace.

“Bastard! You wait! I’ll make sure you can’t sleep with Little Cake for three years!”

…

Having encountered the brocade-clothed man’s series of deadly shameless poisonous schemes, Jing Hengbo had no choice but to obediently be an invalid in bed. Some original plans to go to Shen Tie, or to secretly go to Di Ge, had to be shelved.

Not being able to leave also had its advantages—within three months, she could properly sort out Daimao’s affairs.

News of her collapse in Shangyuan Palace was carried by fast horses to Daimao’s borders, where Pei Shu was conducting military blockades and monitoring the fifteen gangs’ movements.

When Pei Shu received the news, it was a misty morning with light rain. He led his subordinates to personally patrol the borders, continuously gazing toward Shangyuan in the drizzling mist. However, rain mist intertwined with Daimao’s unique pale gray air, creating a hazy world with no visible palaces.

Pei Shu was in a bad mood. He was quite dissatisfied that Jing Hengbo had kept Yelu Qi by her side while sending him out to guard the borders.

Because of his bad mood, his eyes were sharp as a falcon’s during border patrol, putting great pressure on his subordinates who were trembling with fear. So a person who had originally bribed checkpoint soldiers with heavy gold to sneak through the checkpoint was spotted by the particularly alert Horizontal Halberd soldiers, dragged out, and thrown before Pei Shu.

The man was quite disheveled when thrown down, but immediately scrambled up, shouting loudly: “You cannot kill me! I am a court messenger!”

Hearing those last four words, Pei Shu, who had already raised his hand to signal the kill, suddenly turned his head.

In an instant, his beautiful eyes narrowed, pupils like cold glazed light shooting in all directions.

The gold-decorated, painted, sealed box was searched out and presented to Pei Shu. Pei Shu casually flipped it open, and his originally murderous gaze suddenly became like a sword.

Sword intent like snow, gracefully shooting in all directions. Sudden chill arose all around. Everyone felt the cold rain hitting their bodies like hidden weapons, all anxiously lowering their heads, wishing they could shrink into rain puddles.

Only the messenger continued his bluster with outward strength but inward weakness.

“Court messengers represent the master’s will—how dare you insult them? Why don’t you quickly untie me and send special personnel to escort me to Shangyuan! I must see the female king and deliver Di Ge’s royal decree!”

The messenger had no authority to examine the sealed orders in the lacquered box. In his mind, perhaps the Daimao Female King’s recent impressive momentum had earned rewards from the State Preceptor.

Pei Shu’s black eyes slanted over. The messenger only felt as if a blade had sliced across his face, making the rain even colder.

The gold-decorated painted box, which should have been placed respectfully on a table, crackled in Pei Shu’s fingers and turned to powder.

Two imperial edicts were roughly stuffed into Pei Shu’s chest. Like toilet paper.

The messenger, pale-faced, stepped forward through the rain.

“General Pei, how can you so trample royal decrees…”

“Too noisy.” Pei Shu’s voice, turning his horse, floated over cold as rain threads: “Make him permanently quiet.”

“You cannot…”

“Tch.”

A clean, decisive sound.

Pei Shu didn’t look back, touching the two edicts in his chest, looking up at the distance where dark blue mountain colors spread thick and thin against the pale gray horizon, with a murky red emerging at the end like ominous blood.

This Daimao realm that had just regained tranquility would soon be trampled by dense iron hooves again…

Behind him, horse hooves clattered with no one speaking—trusted subordinates silently following.

“From today,” Pei Shu’s voice came, calm and cold: “Gather cavalry to the borders. Prepare for war.”

…

Jing Hengbo found it strange that Pei Shu, who had gone to patrol the borders, hadn’t returned quickly. Three months were almost up.

Supposedly news of her collapse had certainly reached Pei Shu, yet that guy hadn’t returned at the first opportunity. Jing Hengbo couldn’t help wondering if he had finally found someone else and recently connected with Meng Potian?

This thought made her quite happy, with slight melancholy—the young man she regarded as a younger brother finally had a good girl he could spend his life with, only it was a pity she couldn’t casually pinch his extremely good-feeling face anymore…

She smiled before the curtain, her smile three parts satisfaction, three parts melancholy. Zirui watched her from the corridor, seeing the longing deep in her eyes.

Others’ happiness reflected her current loneliness and worry. Her heart seemed to have myriad brilliant lights, but the shadow behind the light wasn’t there.

She gripped the document in her hand tightly.

Seeing her, Jing Hengbo beckoned, indicating she should come forward. Watching that woman’s graceful steps become increasingly light, she frowned slightly.

Zirui had become even thinner recently. Each time she saw her, she seemed one degree thinner than the day before.

She had something on her mind.

However, that woman’s character had its stubborn aspects. Her sealed worries were like wax-sealed bottles that even tide water couldn’t penetrate.

Jing Hengbo thought, once Daimao was completely settled, should she arrange an early marriage for her?

This time Zirui came with intelligence reports from spies throughout Daimao. Soon after entering Daimao, Jing Hengbo had learned from Yelu Qi to cultivate informants within each of the fifteen gangs, providing resources and opportunities to help these informants gradually rise in position. After nearly a year of cultivation, these people had also gradually gained certain status—it was time for them to play their role.

It was also time for those fifteen gang secrets that Jing Hengbo had obtained from the Thirteenth Protector’s underground laboratory to play their role.

For instance, the Blazing Fire Alliance’s oath document was a life-and-death pact between three founding brothers. Later someone betrayed, someone left, someone secretly harmed brothers—now was the time to bring up old matters.

For instance, that dignified Daoist sect master of Soaring Cloud Gate was a low-level erotic art enthusiast. Such wonderful matters might as well be brought out for everyone to appreciate together.

Except for the Thirteenth Protector, the other fourteen powers all had various compromising materials hidden in that underground laboratory. During these three months of being an invalid recovering from injury, besides handling Shangyuan affairs, Jing Hengbo spent the rest of her time pondering how to use these things to sow discord, divide, and strike those martial world forces who dared oppose her.

After reading through all the intelligence and issuing new orders, seeing Zirui’s hesitation, Jing Hengbo looked up at her with a smile.

Her smile was no longer what it had been initially. In her alluring charm, there were now several parts pressure and dignity.

Long dwelling in high position naturally generates nobility.

Zirui finally said softly: “Young Marshal has returned.”

“Excellent.” Jing Hengbo beamed with joy: “I thought he was angry with me. Finally back!”

“Your Majesty…” Zirui seemed to have more to say.

“Hmm?”

“Recently there have been some rumors…” Zirui gently bit her lower lip, somewhat uneasy: “saying Young Marshal has arbitrarily mobilized cavalry, deployed them at the borders. The Horizontal Halberd Army should have contracted toward the interior, but he ordered interior camps to move out toward the borders… I heard he also executed several lieutenant generals and had conflicts with titled colonels… Some say Young Marshal has disloyal intentions…”

Jing Hengbo raised her eyebrows. Zirui stopped speaking and lowered her head.

“Zirui.” After a long while, Jing Hengbo spoke, her tone very calm, even carrying a smile, but each word was clear: “I don’t want to hear such words again.”

Zirui felt as if she’d been whipped, jerking her head up.

“Others can say such things, but you cannot. Because you are one of us who walked this path together.” Jing Hengbo smiled lightly: “What kind of person Pei Shu is, what his character is like—I know clearly, and you know clearly too.” She raised her hand, pointing to the thick and thin mountain colors and pale gray sky outside the curtain: “If he were willing, this Daimao realm could have been taken into his possession long ago through conspiracy with Chai Yu. Something he didn’t want then, would he grab now? Zirui, people like Pei Shu can be killed, but cannot be insulted.”

Blood drained from Zirui’s face. When she left, her steps were slightly unsteady. Daylight reflected on her face showed seven parts shame and regret, three parts joy.

Ashamed and regretful for suspecting a friend, yet not regretting this question. As the female king’s advisory female official, she had the responsibility to report all developments.

Her joy was that the female king had become even more magnanimous and tolerant. Her gaze was far-reaching enough to see across the world, her spread wings already sufficient to bear this heaven and earth’s pressure.

Both women had their thoughts, neither noticing the straight figure silently standing behind the corridor curtain.

Daylight illuminated his jade-like skin and straight nose bridge, with red lips pressed tightly below.

“…People like Pei Shu can be killed, but cannot be insulted.”

“If he were willing, this Daimao realm could have been taken into his possession long ago.”

“…What his character is like, you know clearly, and I know clearly too.”

…

A lifetime of military campaigns, halfway through struggles, he had walked through blood and mud, experienced betrayal, deception, and strife, never truly experiencing this moment—a kindred spirit in the human world, hearts reflecting each other like radiant light.

Trust not taken away by criticism and slander was like ocean tides, eternally rising and falling at the heart’s horizon; like rainbows at sky’s edge, illuminating all the deep black pupils.

A scholar dies for one who knows him.

He quietly walked out, preparing to sharpen his long sword once more.

Jing Hengbo didn’t see that figure. She wondered why Pei Shu had returned but didn’t come see her. Was this kid being moody again?

If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain. Pushing her temporary wheelchair, she rolled all the way toward his sleeping quarters.

For her convenience, recently all thresholds in the palace had been removed and replaced with ramps. Pei Shu’s quarters never had servants, with the door open—it seemed he had indeed returned. Jing Hengbo rolled straight into his sleeping chamber, thinking if this guy dared lie in bed, she’d drag him up by the ears. This guy would soon be someone else’s husband—later she wouldn’t even be able to barge into his bedroom, so while there was still opportunity, she’d better barge in a few more times.

The bed curtains hung low, with blankets piled up, seeming to have someone sleeping. Jing Hengbo pulled away the blankets with one motion, laughing: “Still playing dead…” then stopped short.

She had thrown the blankets to the floor, but there was no one there. Just as Jing Hengbo was about to scold the lazy fellow for not folding blankets after getting up, she suddenly saw Pei Shu’s pillow had flipped over from her vigorous pull, revealing half of a white-bordered golden-edged cover underneath.

This type of cover caught her attention—it was the fixed format of Di Ge Static Court imperial edicts.

She reached out and pulled that thing out.