Xiaoying had spent years living on the edge of danger, making her instincts sharper than most.

Something wasn’t right here!

Thinking this, Xiaoying leaped to climb back over the wall, but the next moment a pebble shot out, striking precisely at the acupuncture point on her back.

Unable to catch her breath, she fell heavily to the ground.

When she looked back, two dim lanterns suddenly illuminated the previously pitch-black courtyard. In the flickering light, Feng Yuan, who should have been imprisoned and punished in the military camp, sat like a ghost in the central building.

His deeply chiseled face, illuminated by the dim lanterns, appeared even more somber than usual.

Despite all her precautions, this fellow had appeared here like a relentless specter.

Yan Xiaoying had no time for surprise. She quickly surveyed her surroundings. Feng Yuan had brought quite a few men, not just in the courtyard but also stationed in the tall trees outside the yard.

These men resembled the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards, all with distinctive bulging temples. She hadn’t noticed them at all on her way here, which meant they were all top-tier martial artists.

Though few, each was worth ten ordinary fighters. Even if she had brought her subordinates, they would be no match for these trained killers, let alone when she was alone.

Despite all her calculations, this unexpected variable had suddenly appeared!

However, Xiaoying couldn’t figure out how Feng Yuan had escaped from his military prison and tracked her all the way here.

When several large men closed in on her, Xiaoying suddenly flicked her sleeve, releasing a cloud of bewildering powder. Hidden within the scattering powder were silver needles that could make anyone collapse instantly upon piercing the skin.

The large men were forced to dodge to avoid the needles, and several had already inhaled the powder, coughing so badly they couldn’t open their eyes.

Just as the young woman was about to disappear into the night like a slippery fish, Feng Yuan showed no sign of urgency, simply saying: “Bring Meng Zhun and the others up here!”

With his words, several men brought up the tightly bound Meng Zhun and Yan Shan.

When Yan Shan was pressed to the ground, he finally got a clear look at the leader who had suddenly entered the courtyard and captured them.

Seeing the handsome young man with a touch of wickedness sitting in the chair, Yan Shan’s heart trembled slightly.

There was no mistaking it—this handsome young lord looked too much like His Majesty in his youth.

Having performed opera for nobles in the palace, he immediately guessed that this must be a prince.

Perched on the wall, Xiaoying looked back and sighed helplessly.

Ordinarily, she might have had minor skirmishes with Feng Yuan, but for the sake of their cooperation, they would have joked their way through it.

But now she had just offended this madman. Whether she came down or not, nothing good would come of it.

Since both her fathers were in his hands, if they were to die, she, as a daughter, should remain by their side.

Xiaoying calmly jumped back into the courtyard, smiling as she said: “What skill you have, Grand Prince, even General Chen’s military camp couldn’t hold you.”

Feng Yuan looked at her coldly and asked: “You sold me and the military map out, but couldn’t escape as planned. Do you have any other tricks up your sleeve? Why not try them?”

The young lord’s gaze toward Xiaoying was unfriendly. Yan Shan seemed to sense something and, despite his bound hands, struggled to throw himself in front of his daughter.

Meanwhile, Meng Zhun also called out loudly: “Young lord, direct whatever you have at me. She’s still a child, ignorant of the ways of the world!”

Feng Yuan let out a dry laugh, his eyes flashing like sharp blades, muttering to himself: “A child?”

The young lord stood up, his tall figure overshadowing half the courtyard. His cold eyes seemed to see no one else, focusing directly on Xiaoying behind Yan Shan: “Yan Xiaoying, come here!”

This was the first time Feng Yuan had called her by her real name, though his enunciation carried a trace of killing intent.

Xiaoying was unaccustomed to hiding behind others, so after reassuringly patting her father’s arm, she stepped around to the front.

As usual, she smiled cheerfully and said, “Why shout so loudly? You’ll disturb the neighbors’ rest…”

As she spoke, Xiaoying had already walked up to Feng Yuan. Suddenly raising her hand, her fingertips gleamed with three silver needles, while simultaneously a sleeve dart flew out.

While in the palace, she had once threatened Feng Yuan with a sleeve dart, nearly hitting him. If he managed to dodge this time, it wouldn’t matter. She had a backup plan—the silver needles between her fingers were coated with a paralyzing drug. If she could just prick Feng Yuan, she could subdue him. Then, using him as a hostage, she might be able to negotiate for her adoptive father and the others…

Someone else might have been fooled by this girl’s innocent smile.

Unfortunately for Xiaoying, her opponent this time was A’Ruo, who had sparred with her countless times in the abandoned palace.

Every attack, ambush, and the subtle changes in the young woman’s eyes had been memorized by Feng Yuan.

So when she made her move, he moved as well.

The sleeve dart once again barely grazed his ear. As he dodged, he also launched his attack—not the swift, gale-force punches of the Xiao family, but rather the grappling techniques Xiaoying had taught A’Ruo back in the abandoned palace.

Yet these same techniques seemed to have been refined and expanded by Feng Yuan, unleashed with the force of a thunderbolt.

Yan Xiaoying finally realized how restrained Feng Yuan had been when fighting Mu Hanjiang in the forest.

She had estimated she could withstand three moves from the current Feng Yuan, but she had overestimated herself.

In just one move, she couldn’t even fire her silver needles before his iron grip seized her arm, dislocating it again.

When her adoptive father and Yan Shan saw Xiaoying being attacked, they struggled to rush forward, but being bound, swords were immediately placed at their throats.

Feng Yuan gripped Xiaoying’s other wrist, not holding back his strength at all, and pulled her into his embrace.

Though this young woman usually smiled cheerfully, she harbored an unyielding stubbornness that made her unafraid of death. Despite the severe pain in her arm, she continued to smile, though her teeth bit into her lip. Fighting the pain, her body trembled slightly…

Feng Yuan looked down at her, reached into the pouch at her waist, and pulled out that hideous mask. Then, forcing Xiaoying to lift her head, he placed the mask precisely over her face…

“The Little King of Hell, who terrorizes the rivers, is a child? General Meng, to say such a thing, perhaps it is you who is being childish!”

Seeing his daughter held by the tall, cold young lord, Yan Shan was almost in tears. This prince somehow knew Xiaoying’s identity, making it impossible for him to take the blame for her!

Xiaoying knew her chances of victory were nonexistent. Restrained by the man’s iron arm and unable to move, she could only forcefully throw off the mask and say to Feng Yuan through the pain: “I have wronged you, don’t take it out on them!”

Feng Yuan smiled slightly and, showing no regard for her feminine fragility, lifted her with one hand. As he pushed her dislocated arm back into place, he whispered in her ear: “You’ve exhausted your three chances and still dare to ambush me! Yan Xiaoying, my patience with you ends here!”

In that brief moment, her wrist was seized by Feng Yuan and pressed against her nose and mouth.

There was still plenty of the sedative powder on her sleeve. Even if Xiaoying held her breath, she couldn’t last long.

She had prepared the drug herself, so it was certainly effective. She could only glare at Feng Yuan’s wicked face as darkness overcame her vision, and she passed out completely.

…

Perhaps from inhaling too much of the drug, Xiaoying felt a splitting headache before she even opened her eyes.

At the same time, a familiar cold fragrance lingered in the air around her.

She recognized it as the scent of snow-soaked orchids. When she struggled to open her eyes, she saw the familiar brocade curtains and knew she must be in the Listening Heart Garden.

Recalling the tense situation before she lost consciousness, she sat up with a start, only to discover her long hair loose around her shoulders, dressed in soft silk undergarments. All her sedative powders and silver needles had been confiscated.

Only the circle of bruises on her wrist, where Feng Yuan had gripped her without restraint, showed that last night’s confrontation had not been a nightmare.

Feng Yuan had treated his captive relatively well, not binding her and throwing her into a water prison. The bruises on her wrist even seemed to have been treated with an ointment that smelled of medicinal herbs.

Without bothering to put on shoes, Xiaoying ruffled her long hair, ignoring her headache, grabbed a robe from beside the bed, put it on, and, barefoot, quickly walked to the door. Just as she was about to push it open, she saw a maid entering with hot porridge and food.

“You’re awake. The young master asked this servant to bring you something to eat.” The servants at Listening Snow Garden didn’t call Feng Yuan “Grand Prince” but simply “young master.”

Normally full of smiles, the young woman now wore a serious expression and asked the maid urgently: “Do you know where Feng Yuan has taken the others?”

“Others? What others? This servant changed your clothes last night and then attended to you as you rested here. I didn’t see anyone else.”

Seeing the maid’s confused expression, Xiaoying realized she wasn’t privy to the situation and didn’t bother asking further. She simply tried to leave.

However, two muscular men in tight-fitting clothes guarded the door—the skilled fighters Feng Yuan had brought. Knowing she had no chance of victory, Xiaoying reluctantly retreated.

The food on the table was simple—just a bowl of clear porridge with some salted vegetable leaves.

Xiaoying looked at it and asked the maid: “Is this prison food? How stingy is your young master? He certainly knows how to be frugal.”

The maid bowed to her and said, “The young master said that when you woke up, you would be quite irritable, so he prepared something light. Please eat first, and I’ll come collect the bowl later.”

With that, the maid took the tray and left.

Xiaoying never argued with her stomach. After sniffing the porridge, she ate it clean with the side dish.

Indeed, once fed, her mind cleared considerably. She quickly reviewed the previous night’s events and suddenly laughed out loud.

This Feng Yuan was truly a master angler, laying his lines far and wide, making it impossible to defend against.

The first time she came to Listening Heart Garden, he had said it was for her to relax and clear her mind, but it was a lie!

That map had helped him catch quite a few big fish! She had been so foolish to believe him! What about his solemn promises to enter the mountains and suppress the bandits, to fight flesh against flesh?

He had been conserving his strength, waiting for her to deliver people from Mount Ding straight into his bowl!

With the Mount Ding rebels escaping despite heavy encirclement, Chen Nuo would certainly bear the blame!

His soldiers and Shang Youdao’s local forces had created a mess, suffering casualties. Although Shang Youdao was dead, General Chen wouldn’t escape punishment. Most likely, once the news reached the capital, petitions to impeach Chen Nuo would already be on their way.

As for Mu Hanjiang submitting a fake map without verifying its authenticity—that too was a crime. After all, the military map wasn’t presented by Feng Yuan, so its authenticity had nothing to do with him!

Only the Grand Prince, who had been poisoned and beaten by Chen Nuo, remained pure and innocent, a good person indeed!

In such a chaotic battlefield, he had single-handedly captured the rebel Meng Zhun and his forces!

She wondered what glorious future Feng Yuan planned to exchange for the heads of the Meng army, after using her to severely damage Chen Nuo and Mu Hanjiang.

As for her, the fake Crown Prince, she was the stain on the imperial family that Feng Yuan had used to confuse matters and the key to tricking Chen Nuo.

This chess piece, having been used to this extent and squeezed of its last value, would probably not be allowed to live and show its face again.

Yet he still hesitated to make his move, wasting a bowl of rice porridge to feed this ungrateful wretch. What exactly did he intend?

Thinking of Feng Yuan’s occasional subtle intimacies with her, Yan Xiaoying smiled coldly.

She wasn’t stupid—how could she not guess his thoughts?

A man who usually abstained from alcohol thought women wouldn’t be addicted? Did he want to try her before killing her?

With these thoughts, she quickly looked around the room for any useful tools.

Unfortunately, all her drugs and silver needles had been taken. The room was spotless, without even a single piece of metal. With her hair loose, she didn’t even have a hairpin to use.

Feng Yuan was exceptionally talented. After leaving the abandoned palace, he had barely put down his books, greedily filling in what he had missed during those ten years, day and night like a glutton.

This applied to both his scholarly and martial pursuits.

While in the palace, he divided his time between studying and practicing martial arts with Xiao Tianyang outside the palace.

Under the personal guidance of the legendary swordsman Xiao Tianyang, Feng Yuan’s martial skills had progressed at an astonishing rate, advancing a thousand miles in a day. He had become a monster beyond her ability to subdue.

If Feng Yuan came here to indulge himself, would she have to sacrifice her virtue and wait for the moment he lost himself to strike a fatal blow?

Feng Yuan seemed in no hurry. A day passed without him showing his face. He was probably gradually resolving the chaos at Mount Ding.

If she guessed correctly, the scoundrel had probably returned to the military camp, back to his prison cell to avoid suspicion.

After three more meals of thin porridge, almost a full day passed. As lanterns were being lit, the door finally creaked open.

Xiaoying sat on the bed and turned to look. The tall young lord entered, dressed in plain black clothes with a fur-collared cloak, his hair bound with a golden crown, highlighting his ink-like eyes. He strode in, wrapped in night dew and frost.

The young woman’s face, half-hidden by her long hair, was slightly pale. Wearing only plain undergarments, she looked at him with clear, large eyes, like a rabbit trapped in a cage, appearing harmless and gentle.

Such a delicate appearance was rarely seen on this cunning female thief, causing Feng Yuan to pause his steps. In the light of the tall crane lamp by the bed, he admired her for quite some time.

Xiaoying knew she was at a disadvantage and couldn’t match his resolve, so she spoke first: “What have you done with my father and adoptive father? Are they… still alive?”

Feng Yuan didn’t come closer but sat at the distant table. Glancing at the teacup on the table, he said calmly: “Be careful not to cut your hand on the porcelain…”

He was truly perceptive, immediately noticing that a teacup was missing.

Xiaoying gave an admiring smile and threw the porcelain shard she had been holding onto the floor.

Feng Yuan nonchalantly removed his cloak, tossing it aside, and said: “They’re all still fine for now. It’s not yet time for you to fight me to the death.”

Hearing his words, Xiaoying exhaled slowly, then asked: “What do you plan to do next?”

Feng Yuan poured a cup of tea: “I gave Meng Zhun two options to choose from. One way to exchange you for his life—you stay behind, your life or death no longer his concern, at my disposal, while he continues to flee with his soldiers, living day to day without security.”

Xiaoying pressed her lips together, raising an eyebrow to ask: “And the other?”

“The other… is to accompany me back to the capital in a prison cart, confess his crimes, and receive punishment.”

Hearing this, Xiaoying leaned forward slightly, asking tensely: “Which… did he choose?”

Feng Yuan explained unhurriedly: “Of these two paths, one leads to death, one to life. He was wise enough to choose the path of life.”

Hearing this, Xiaoying sighed slightly in relief. Good, at least her adoptive father had prioritized the bigger picture rather than acting impulsively. She could finally speak with a smile: “So when will the Grand Prince, true to his word, release my father and adoptive father?”

Feng Yuan’s expression seemed to darken. He slowly stood up, walked to the bed, and looked down at the young woman with her loose hair and clear face. He raised his hand to lift her chin: “You don’t seem worried at all about why I want to keep you here.”

Xiaoying offered her face to his palm, her black hair cascading onto his arm, docile and obedient as she nuzzled against him: “No matter what, the Grand Prince will surely treat me gently, won’t he?”

When Xiaoying wished, she could certainly retract her thorns and reveal the flowery charm of a young girl in bloom, giving the impression that she could be easily held with just a gentle bend.

Looking at such an obedient young woman, Feng Yuan’s gaze seemed to darken.

Xiaoying laughed coldly in her heart: This scoundrel truly had lustful courage. If he harbored such thoughts, he shouldn’t blame her for killing him in bed.

Feng Yuan looked at this completely different display of coquettishness and finally smiled with satisfaction, though his smile was like ice in the twelfth month, showing no warmth despite having a beauty in his arms.

The tall young lord bent down to look at her, his nose touching her cheek, whispering: “My Prince, I think you’ve misunderstood. When I spoke of the life path, I meant he chose the latter!”

If he could easily abandon his adopted daughter, exchanging a frail young woman for his safety, would such a despicable man deserve to live?

Had Meng Zhun chosen to abandon Xiaoying, Feng Yuan would likely have gutted him and taken his head!

Xiaoying blinked, finally understanding that her adoptive father had chosen to sit in the prison cart and return to the capital with Feng Yuan to face trial!

No longer pretending to be docile, she widened her eyes and said, “How is that a life path? He’s been smeared with so much dirt that can never be washed clean! If he goes back to the capital with you, the only outcome will be death by a thousand cuts!”

Feng Yuan looked at her coldly: “How is Meng Zhun’s current situation any different from death? His loved ones died tragically, yet he has nowhere to seek justice, haunted daily by their ghosts and unable to sleep peacefully. An upright military officer forced to become a mountain bandit, year after year, being used as a scapegoat by corrupt officials, continuing to accumulate false charges! A dignified man of seven feet, merely dodging and hiding—how is he not like you, a young woman who risks her life?”

He was indeed formidable. When had he secretly investigated? He seemed to know all about her adoptive father’s grievances. But even so, why use her adoptive father as leverage?

Xiaoying finally put aside her usual carefree smile and asked, suppressing her anger: “What will you gain by stepping on his corpse?”

Feng Yuan seemed even angrier than she was. He pressed his thin lips together, digesting his emotions first before coldly saying, “Yan Xiaoying, everyone must bear the consequences of their fate. Risking one’s life—isn’t that your usual style of action? Why is it different when it comes to those under your wing? Little King of Hell? Have you become so conceited from being called that name that you truly believe you can do anything? If life hangs by a thread, can you, this King of Hell, crawl out from the gates of the underworld?”

Feng Yuan’s eyes were full of mockery, seemingly ridiculing her for overestimating herself, working in vain only to deliver her father and adoptive father into his trap!

He knew Yan Xiaoying too well—how unwilling she was to submit to others, how behind her casual laughter lay a stubborn, wild nature.

Yet Feng Yuan deliberately struck at her heart with each word, mercilessly targeting the vital points and fatal weaknesses of this young woman.

Yan Xiaoying glared at him, her teeth lightly grinding, and suddenly lunged at him.

Unfortunately, her wrist was firmly seized by the man’s large hand, and she couldn’t break free despite her efforts.

It didn’t matter. Xiaoying followed the momentum into Feng Yuan’s embrace and bit down hard on his neck. That bite was truly vicious—the next moment, she would tear through his blood vessels, eager to drink her fill.