“ALL—OF—YOU—SHUT—UP!”

Suddenly a sharp, piercing shout suppressed the boiling chaos.

Everyone felt their eardrums buzzing. Looking up, they saw a woman standing on the three-tiered steps.

The woman wore an ordinary long dress and a veiled hat. People had noticed her approach earlier but paid no attention amid the crowd. Now, looking up from below, they suddenly realized this woman had truly excellent curves!

Her graceful yet full figure could withstand the most critical angles. Looking up from below, the flowing undulations of her silhouette made eyes follow the rippling waves, jumping along.

Almost immediately, most of the crowd quieted—men were amazed, women were jealously shocked.

Jing Hengbo pushed away Yu Chun and gracefully walked down the steps. She pointed a finger at the forehead of the young man in front.

“I’m the shopkeeper. I came out—so what?”

The young man stared at her blankly, suddenly blushing.

“I made the rules, I’m the shopkeeper and I have the final say,” Jing Hengbo pushed away a big man in front of her. “Teach me a lesson? Spray my face with saliva? Hey, how many days since you last bathed?”

The big man instinctively stepped back and quickly sniffed his armpits.

“Crush me with silver!” Jing Hengbo stood among the guards, head high and chest thrust forward. “Go ahead! Hurry up and crush me! If you can collapse my Instant Portrait Studio, then talk big!”

Everyone stared at that momentary surge, forgetting what they had just said.

“Why block these people?” Jing Hengbo grabbed several of the portrait customers. Those who came for portraits were all old men, currently protected tightly by their families.

“This gentleman,” Jing Hengbo pointed to a white-haired elder, “Grand Commandant of the Floating Water Tribe. A hero who single-handedly held the pass in his youth, reportedly saving an entire city. Countless millions of Floating Water Tribe people owe him their lives. Such a person doesn’t deserve to be ahead of you?”

The crowd stepped back. The elder’s expression was wistful, seemingly surprised that anyone still remembered his past deeds, and he silently bowed deeply to Jing Hengbo.

Jing Hengbo smiled, turned, and pointed to another iron-faced old man.

“This gentleman, Director of the Censorate, the upright Minister Sima. You should have heard his name,” she said. “This minister lived a life of integrity, fearless of power, upright and incorruptible, loyal with a pure heart. While in office, he impeached nearly a thousand corrupt officials, offending countless powerful families. His three sons were successively killed by vengeful enemies, and he himself was imprisoned three times, twice led to the execution ground only to be spared at the last moment! His life’s ups and downs could fill a book of struggle. Such a person doesn’t deserve to be ahead of you?”

The old man wept, bowing deeply to Jing Hengbo, saying hoarsely, “Not for the young lady’s praise, but because someone still remembers my pitifully dead sons…”

Jing Hengbo bowed slightly and pointed to the third person. The elder turned to look at her, neither pleased nor angry, seemingly waiting to hear what she would say.

“Great Sage Qu Ti,” Jing Hengbo said. “Former Ceremonial Minister. Served thirty years as Grand Supervisor of the National Academy. While in office, he was humble and self-reflective, promoting junior scholars. His students are everywhere—among the Five Departments, most are his disciples. Half the people here probably call him teacher, and the other half call him grand-teacher or great-grand-teacher?”

The crowd fell silent, and some began stepping back.

“Such a person doesn’t deserve to be ahead of you?”

The crowd’s agitation gradually subsided. The third old man, who showed no emotion on his face, suddenly brought his head close to Jing Hengbo and whispered, “Your Majesty, I was thinking—I don’t have such glorious deeds as the first two. If you praise me too highly, I won’t give you face. I didn’t expect you to use me as a shield… hehe.”

“Hehe.” Jing Hengbo whispered back, “Who says you have no deeds? It’s just that I know you’re of noble character and don’t like being praised to your face, so I had to bring you out as a shield. Looking at this situation, help me out?”

Qu Ti couldn’t help but smile. “That old fool Chang Fang always says Your Majesty is divinely intelligent, beyond ordinary people. I didn’t believe it, but seeing now, you’re clearly a fox spirit who’s cultivated for a thousand years… In my view, your speech today, even we three, were all arranged in advance, weren’t they?”

“Your wisdom is clear.” Jing Hengbo’s voice got even lower. “I spent half the night memorizing your heroic deeds. Those flowery sentences were exhausting!”

Qu Ti laughed heartily. “Everyone says the Queen is unlearned! I wondered how she suddenly became so eloquent today! I just don’t know what play Your Majesty is performing today?”

“You’re a wise person—can’t you see?” Jing Hengbo smiled like a true fox.

Qu Ti glanced at her and smiled slightly.

Who says the Queen is lazy and useless?

Who says the Queen is powerless, trapped in Dahuang’s power shackles unable to move?

She has never given up fighting for her own power!

Moreover, her eyes are sharp and her mind clear. The Floating Water Tribe, Censorate, and Sages—these are exactly the three neutral forces in the current Dahuang court that could be won over.

A portrait, something ordinary people use to make money, she could also use to buy people’s hearts. The portrait was a small matter, but using the portrait incident to show goodwill to neutrals while hitting their sweet spot without leaving a trace.

Impressive.

These old men who had long cleared their hearts of desires couldn’t be moved by wealth or beauties—only respect and recognition were what they would sacrifice everything to pursue throughout their lives.

Today seemed like a small matter, but in front of so many people, elevating those two to pedestals, letting them see their own prestige and popular support with their own eyes, letting them know there were still people who deeply remembered their past sacrifices and greatness—this would surely make them sigh “with such understanding friends, this life is not in vain.”

She calculated that the first day’s three portraits would cause disturbance—this was deliberately arranged to create momentum and push the situation forward.

Those who understand the situation are wise; those who can borrow the situation win.

Qu Ti smiled, thinking Chang Fang’s old eyes were sometimes quite bright after all.

After Jing Hengbo’s three questions, the crowd stepped back considerably.

One could disrespect heroes, disrespect gentlemen, but could not disrespect teachers.

Otherwise, there would be no foothold in Dige’s upper society.

“Sorry for troubling the three elders.” Jing Hengbo bowed properly. “No need to mind these youngsters. This way, please.”

The three old men all stroked their beards and nodded, walking into the crowd under family escort. Jing Hengbo smiled as she saw them off. Tie Xingze stood beside her, saying, “Should we arrange an escort? With so many people, if the elders stumble or fall…”

Jing Hengbo’s gaze jumped, and suddenly she noticed commotion ahead.

The disturbance started from the alley entrance ahead, where crowds pressed together—half were watching the excitement. Suddenly someone screamed, “Snake! Snake!” followed by people jumping and fleeing. The crowd immediately became chaotic.

When the outside became chaotic, those inside naturally became confused too. Some rushed in, others squeezed out. The sea of heads surged like dark waves, one after another, causing the several old men trying to leave the crowd’s center to sway back and forth.

Jing Hengbo suddenly noticed a small cluster moving against the flow in that sea of heads, heading straight for the three old men in the crowd’s center!

“Watch out!”

Before her words finished, her figure had vanished from where she stood and reappeared throwing herself in front of the Floating Iron Tribe’s old Grand Commandant, grabbing his hand and yanking him hard.

“Hiss.” A soft sound, and a trail of blood droplets scattered like coral in the sunlight.

“Oh my goodness, it hurts!” The completely undisguised cry of pain could only come from Jing Hengbo.

The crowd fell silent, all looking toward Jing Hengbo. She had somehow reached the crowd’s center and stood before the several old men, currently shaking her arm. Her sleeve was torn, revealing a deep red wound.

The Floating Iron Tribe’s old Grand Commandant beside her looked less disheveled than she did, frowning slightly as he stared at her. The old man’s chest clothing was also torn with a trace of blood seeping through, but far less than what Jing Hengbo was bleeding.

The change happened so suddenly that many people didn’t understand what had occurred. More people squeezed forward wanting to see clearly. Jing Hengbo gripped her arm, stood on tiptoes looking around, vaguely seeing someone quickly squeeze out. She wanted to pursue but was blocked by layers of crowd, becoming both painful and irritated, kicking out with her legs, “Move! Move! Damn it, how can I find the assassin with you all crowding like this!”

“What are you doing!” The Grand Commandant’s family guards, who had been squeezed aside and didn’t see the situation clearly, now pushed through. Seeing the wound on the old man’s chest, they were shocked and immediately grabbed Jing Hengbo. “Did you suddenly rush over to hurt him! Was it you!”

Some unknowing noble youths, whose earlier dissatisfaction hadn’t subsided, now seeing excitement, quickly squeezed inside, “Murder! The portrait studio’s female boss murdered someone!”

“Move aside! Don’t be rude!” Yu Chun and Tie Xingze also urgently pushed through the crowd to arrive.

But more people on the periphery began to clamor, “Queen! Queen!”

Jing Hengbo was startled.

Turning back, she realized that when she had rushed over, her veiled hat had fallen off.

And now more and more common people watching the excitement gathered around. This area was near Liuli District, and many commoners had seen her during the last Liuli District incident. With her natural radiance always making her the center of attention, once she raised her face, most people recognized her.

“Queen! Queen!” More commoners surged over, excitedly waving their arms.

The officials and nobles in the inner circle were startled, turning to look at her. Some had recognized her, but most showed none of the commoners’ excitement and joy. Some frowned, some looked displeased, subtly showing hostility, and others actually moved closer to her threateningly.

Yu Chun and Tie Xingze saw the situation was wrong and protected her on both sides.

The commoners, being sensitive, also noticed the officials’ strange hostility and became even more angry. Large groups of people poured in, with shouting and calling echoing throughout Xige District.

“Move aside! Move aside!”

“What are you crowding around the Queen for!”

“What do you want to do to the Queen? With us here, we won’t allow it!”

“We won’t allow it!”

The officials found more and more people gathering, trapping them inside. Their faces changed color, and the inner crowd began contracting and retreating. Each family’s guards came running at the news, standing in a row in front of their masters, forming a confrontation like the Chu River and Han boundary with the common people.

The crowd situation was now strange: innermost were Jing Hengbo and several old officials, then the nearby officials and nobles, then the commoners who had poured in from outside the alley. The commoners were excited, the officials were silent, and Jing Hengbo was thinking.

She felt very strange at this moment.

This was the first time in some turmoil that she directly faced both officials and commoners, simultaneously seeing the ice-and-fire attitudes these two classes had toward her.

Like walking between two poles, she was at the trembling center.

Was this state good or bad? The commoners’ overwhelming support and the officials’ taboo rejection—once intensified to a certain degree, what would be the consequences?

She turned to look at the Floating Water Tribe’s old Grand Commandant, her eyes puzzled.

Why wasn’t he clarifying the situation?

Was he really going to watch it escalate into a large-scale bloody conflict?

…

“Her Majesty’s portrait studio opened today.” Meng Hu was reporting to Gong Yin.

Gong Yin was reading memorials at his desk, just nodding to show he knew. Beside him, Er Gouzi was eating fried rice while Feifei diligently helped him turn the memorial pages.

Jing Hengbo’s three-minute enthusiasm often made her find Er Gouzi too noisy and Feifei too deceptive. She also disliked how they fought together, getting her covered in fur and feathers, affecting her image, so she often refused to bring them when going out. The two felt lonely at such times and found fighting boring, so they would partner up and sneak over to Jing Ting to cause mischief. Er Gouzi liked the fried rice here, while Feifei preferred Gong Yin’s study, corridors, and even his bedchamber—wherever he was, it could sense a familiar yet strange, comfortable cool aura that made it linger lovingly. Of course, Gong Yin’s bedchamber wouldn’t allow it inside, but Feifei didn’t mind. Hanging on the bedchamber door to sleep and guard for the great god was also good.

If Jing Hengbo knew, she’d spend ages cursing with her fingers—comparing people was infuriating! She wanted Feifei to sleep at her door, but the little monster had never agreed!

Gong Yin showed no reaction to their arrival, as if he couldn’t see them. When they tried to please him, he accepted—fanning and turning pages, taking whatever came, even if the fanning dropped feathers and the page-turning had a musky smell, he seemed not to see or smell anything.

No reaction was the best reaction. The two were very good at reading situations—they never fought when at Gong Yin’s side.

“Her Majesty has whetted the appetite of the officials in Xige District. People started queuing a day early, but Her Majesty says only three portraits. I’m somewhat worried that with so many people whose demands can’t be satisfied, trouble will break out.”

Gong Yin tapped his finger, and Feifei immediately turned a page.

“Isn’t that exactly what she wants to cause trouble for?” he said lightly.

Meng Hu heard but didn’t understand, but being smart, he didn’t ask more and continued reporting, “The people Her Majesty selected for portraits are…”

“No need to tell me about this.”

Meng Hu closed his mouth, blinking at his master whose depth was unfathomable as the sea.

Gong Yin lowered his eyes. When he learned of her arrangements and rules, he understood this portrait studio wasn’t meant for long-term business—she probably wanted to send out some signals through this.

Then let her do it.

As for the results, they weren’t important.

If he worried about her safety from the start and tied up her hands and feet, then the immature phoenix would truly never be able to fly to the high skies again.

When that time came with beasts surrounding, who would protect her?

“Too many people.” Meng Hu worried. “Those officials who are usually high and mighty, after eating this humble pie, will blame the Queen again.”

“If they didn’t eat this humble pie, would they like her? As long as she won’t obediently listen, they won’t like her no matter what she does. Better to do what she wants to do.” Gong Yin said, “She sees this more clearly than you do.”

“I’m just afraid they outnumber us… With so many family guards, Yu Chun might not be able to handle it…”

“She has the common people.” Gong Yin calmly gestured for Feifei to turn the page. “After today, she should be able to see others’ hostility more clearly, and also see where her true support lies.”

Meng Hu prepared to withdraw. Since his master knew everything, he didn’t need to worry much.

“Did she take down my portrait?” Gong Yin suddenly asked.

“Her Majesty had it…” Meng Hu was about to answer when he suddenly felt wind outside, and simultaneously Gong Yin suddenly tilted his head.

Feifei stopped its claws, slowly blinked its large eyes, and nimbly leaped out.

Er Gouzi was still foolishly eating fried rice.

“I see.” Gong Yin turned back with a normal expression. “You may go. It’s a bit cold—close the window for me.”

Meng Hu understandingly blinked and closed the window.

“Click.” Outside, flower branches swayed slightly.

Feifei nimbly leaped back, blinked at Gong Yin, and sat on the door frame.

Gong Yin lowered his head to continue reading memorials and ordered, “Light the lamp.”

Someone outside responded, and after a moment, a guard slowly walked in carrying an oil lamp. The lamplight was dim yellow, making his face unclear.

Gong Yin didn’t look up, concentrating on the memorials. Under the pale yellow light, his robes were like snow and his black hair like satin, his lowered eyelashes dark as feathers.

The guard’s steps were very slow, seeming to hold his breath.

“There’s smoke—place it farther away.” Gong Yin casually ordered without looking at him.

The guard responded and placed the lamp on a lamp stand nearby, diligently moving the lamp stand a bit farther. After moving it, he naturally stood beside Gong Yin, seeming very busy as he picked up a withered leaf blown up by the wind.

While picking up the leaf, his gaze fell under the desk, looking from Gong Yin’s legs to his waist to his neck, then pausing briefly on his side profile half-hidden by long hair before slowly standing up.

“You’re blocking my light.” Gong Yin suddenly said. “Stand aside a bit.”

He quickly responded and stepped forward, now even closer to Gong Yin, at his side and rear.

Gong Yin’s attention remained entirely on the memorials, continuously marking them. The guard stood on tiptoes, craning his neck, carefully watching Gong Yin write. His gaze didn’t fall on the memorials but kept circling around Gong Yin’s snow-white jade-carved finger joints, particularly observing his ice-like fingernails.

His breathing gradually quickened. He tried to hold it, unconsciously twisting his palms, pinching his palm centers, subtly swaying his body, staring at Gong Yin’s back, his steps slowly moving forward bit by bit.

“Good-looking?” Gong Yin suddenly said.

He startled and looked up.

“Whoosh!” Suddenly all the memorials on the desk flew up, clattering in chaos. The golden-red hard covers spun and flew back and forth in mid-air like a great formation, blocking all his escape routes.

The “guard” laughed heartily, not nervous at all, shouting, “As expected, I can’t fool you!” His form strangely shifted, already escaping the overwhelming memorial formation, reaching Gong Yin’s back. His five fingers brightened like claws, grabbing toward Gong Yin’s shoulder. “Then come with me!”

“Screech!” A sharp sound as his fingers slid over an ice chain, scattering countless ice fragments. A snow shadow flashed, and Gong Yin was already behind him, kicking his back. “Bang!” He crashed into the desk, and brush, ink, and inkstone clattered to the ground.

“So ruthless!” He still laughed loudly, sliding forward like a snake from the desk before Gong Yin’s second kick arrived. Gong Yin’s kick seemed to have no effect on him at all, his speed too fast to see clearly.

“Crack!” Snow shadows filled the sky with a massive splitting sound. Gong Yin’s snow chain struck heavily on the desk and floor, actually carving a foot-wide groove full of ice crystals in the hard white stone floor!

If anyone had still been in that position, even their bones would have been pulverized!

The man flashed out like lightning, looking back in mid-air with horror in his eyes, exclaiming, “She didn’t lie to me—you really are…”

Gong Yin raised a finger, and snow shadow chains howled up, washing the entire room with wind, snow, and chain light. The man had no time to speak, twisting his body to desperately flee. Gong Yin flicked his fingertip, and the chain tip suddenly extended three feet. “Crack!” Even with the man’s godlike speed, he couldn’t completely escape. His back immediately splattered with a finger-sized piece of flesh and blood!

The man screamed and desperately lunged forward. His lightness skill was incomparable—in a flash he seemed about to escape when suddenly something furry tumbled down from the door frame.

The man only saw a pair of huge purple-blue round eyes slowly blinking at him.

Then he was horrified to find his speed suddenly slowing down!

The threshold was right in front of him but seemed far away.

“Hiss!” Strong wind howled behind him—he could imagine the decisiveness and mercilessness of the attacker.

He sighed in his heart, closed his eyes, not daring to think of the horrible scene of his body being split in two moments later.

This way of dying… could it count as dying under the peony flower, being romantic even as a ghost?

He should have believed her…

The thought flashed through his mind. Cold air froze his muscles, and his slow consciousness suddenly paused, sensing something wrong.

Why did the wind sound suddenly stop?

But the sharp, piercing threatening killing intent behind him that could penetrate the soul was still there.

Something ice-cool touched his neck, then gently and skillfully turned him over with domineering calmness.

His first sight was the silver-gleaming, specially-shaped snow chain pointing at his throat.

His second sight was the bloodless but particularly steady hand holding the chain.

Following the sleeve up, he finally crashed into a pair of quiet, cold eyes like a million-year-old snow mountain.

Million-year snow mountains never melted, million-year skies remained eternally clear, million-year heavenly pools were jade-bright and pure, million-year winds couldn’t sweep away the untainted radiance.

So-called skin whiter than snow and features like paintings seemed to have too much earthly air before such overwhelming presence.

Tian Qi very slowly drew a breath.

“I thought that painting was already the ultimate, but it turns out it was only one-tenth.” He murmured, “Seeing such beauty in the morning, dying in the evening would be acceptable!”

Gong Yin acted as if he hadn’t heard these obviously inappropriate words.

Having been outstanding in appearance since childhood, and with Dahuang’s customs being strange, he had encountered all kinds of people and heard all kinds of strange talk. That this person before him could make him stay his hand was naturally not because of particularly unusual behavior.

“Name.”

“Tian Qi.”

“From where.”

“Shang Kingdom.”

“Master.”

“No master—learned strange skills in the wilderness.”

Asked indifferently, answered honestly. Before absolute power, there was no room for cunning.

“You’ve seen my portrait?”

“The most correct thing I’ve done in my life was coming to see you in person after seeing your portrait.”

“You wouldn’t think so if you were dead.”

“I admit I was overconfident.” Tian Qi sighed. “But I don’t think I’ll change my opinion.”

“Seemingly wild yet cautious, seemingly crazy yet wise. Strange and stubborn temperament, skilled in concealment, skilled in lightness and leaping, skilled in emergency response, skilled in internal martial arts.” Gong Yin’s tone was like evaluating a piece of meat with proper fat distribution.

“In just three moves, you can draw so many conclusions.” Tian Qi looked around. “To reach such high position in white robes, the Great State Preceptor’s reputation is well-deserved.” He gazed at Gong Yin with full admiration. “But I think your appearance exceeds your ability by a notch—I really don’t understand why the outside world doesn’t know.”

“Knowing who I am, you should have heard I’m not a soft-hearted person.” Gong Yin acted as if he hadn’t heard that last sentence.

Tian Qi’s expression became very strange.

“What do you want?”

Gong Yin flicked his finger, and a snow-colored pill shot out. Tian Qi’s jaw ached, and he helplessly opened his mouth.

The pill entered his stomach, coolness spreading. He shivered all over.

Gong Yin retracted his chain and sat back down. His quietly silent white figure in the dim room appeared somewhat blurred and weary.

“If you don’t want to die, go protect someone.” He said.

Tian Qi’s expression became even stranger.

“You decided this the moment you determined my temperament and martial arts, didn’t you?” He said. “Why?”

“Danger may never come, but preparations must be made.” After a long silence, his tone was light.

“Go do it, using all your strength, your entire life.”

…

Tian Qi leaped over the wall without disturbing flowers or leaves.

He knew that countless guards in Jing Ting were watching him at this moment. If he made any wrong move, he would die horribly.

He felt no fear in his heart, but strange emotions flowed.

When crossing the high wall, he looked back at Jing Ting. Through layers of green shadows, a white figure stood quietly in the distance.

He couldn’t help but think of the leaping red figure with lazy laughter in another courtyard.

Two hearts knowing each other—today he finally got to see both.

He traveled through the wind, leaving behind a soft sigh.

“After today…”

“…I finally believe in love again.”