Mu Hanjiang had been trying to persuade the Crown Prince for quite some time.

From behind a curtain, Xiaoying coughed for a while, then replied lazily: “The capital is a place for you to achieve great things, but for me, it’s merely a gilded cage of glazed tiles and gold roofs. If I can recuperate here and stay longer, that would be good.”

Mu Hanjiang looked at the hazy figure behind the curtain thoughtfully: “But Your Highness, hiding by pretending to be ill isn’t a solution. With your intelligence, even if you returned to the capital, you could certainly protect yourself.”

Only Mu Hanjiang knew that the so-called “Crown Prince’s capture” was entirely fabricated by the Grand Prince as an excuse to mobilize troops.

He didn’t believe for a moment that the Crown Prince was seriously injured or ill.

For the imperial heir to fake illness just to avoid returning to the capital and instead idle away his days here seemed disgraceful to Mu Hanjiang, which is why he was earnestly trying to persuade him.

Yan Xiaoying smiled and sighed: “Lord Mu, everyone has their way of living, and their constraints. Take you, Lord Mu—though full of ambition, as the head of the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards, you can only work in the shadows, unable to legitimately become a prince or minister to fulfill your aspirations. Isn’t that a pity? But not everyone is like you, with such strong ambition.”

After poking at Lord Mu’s sore spot, Xiaoying lifted the curtain and propped her face on her hand, wanting to see Mu Hanjiang’s expression.

The elegant young lord silently gritted his teeth, then replied lightly: “Whatever position one holds, it’s all to serve Dafeng. I… have no regrets.”

Xiaoying grinned as she lay on the edge of the bed: “But I don’t have your resolve! The capital has too many dazzling temptations. I fear my eyes will be blinded, my heart confused, my life lost! Besides, I’ve never been the imperial heir you all preferred. You can tell from Father Emperor’s reaction—he was perfectly happy to let me recuperate here, immediately granting his permission. Moreover, I don’t want to get involved in the Tang family’s affairs.”

Hearing this, Mu Hanjiang’s thick eyebrows raised slightly.

Recently, the capital had indeed seen tumultuous changes. The Tang family’s eldest granddaughter, Tang Mi, had finally entered the palace.

To demonstrate that His Majesty’s affection for the Tang family had not diminished because of Empress Tang, this woman was immediately elevated to consort status upon entering the palace, bestowed the title of Consort Yi by His Majesty.

Consort Yi’s demeanor was entirely different from her aunt, Empress Tang. Not only was she exquisitely beautiful, but she was also gracious and measured in her dealings with others, accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

Even though His Majesty harbored wariness toward the Tang family, he couldn’t help but cherish this talented and charming woman.

Thus, His Majesty had spent half a month staying in Consort Yi’s chambers, and under such favor, rumors that she would replace Tang Shi as empress spread like wildfire.

Consort Shang in the Western Palace was alarmed, and having been reprimanded by His Majesty due to her nephew Shang Youdao’s implication, she was anxious to regain imperial favor. She had consecutively introduced several beautiful young women from the Shang family into the palace to secure her position.

In short, the imperial palace was now in chaos, with daily schemes for imperial favor.

Hearing the Crown Prince say he didn’t want to return and get involved, Mu Hanjiang finally gave up his persuasion.

However, after careful consideration, Mu Hanjiang still expressed what had been lingering in his mind.

“I’m not suggesting Your Highness wade into the palace’s murky waters. It’s just that the Grand Prince… seems to have a good relationship with you. I thought if you could return and guide him at his side, perhaps his conduct might become more proper.”

Xiaoying laughed: “What makes you think the Grand Prince would listen to me?”

What kind of person was Feng Yuan? Deep and calculating, who could see through him?

Mu Hanjiang felt he should put some calculations in the heir’s mind: “The Dragon Scale Shadow Guards were once controlled by Princess Ye. After her defeat and capture at Feng Tail Slope, she gradually transferred authority to my father. However, when handing over the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards, my father discovered half the personnel roster was missing. Due to frequent warfare at the time, it was written off as battle casualties and not reported. But now it seems… perhaps it wasn’t so.”

Hearing this, Xiaoying immediately understood.

Feng Yuan was now surrounded by skilled experts, with capable subordinates like Shen Jing appearing out of nowhere, showing unwavering loyalty to Feng Yuan with untraceable origins.

These people’s efficient and disciplined manner of operation was incompatible with Xiao Tianyang’s unrestrained style, and they didn’t seem like disciples trained by Xiao Tianyang.

If these people were hidden agents embedded by Ye Zhanxue when transferring the Dragon Scale Shadow Guards, all questions would seemingly be answered.

Hearing this, Xiaoying couldn’t help but frown slightly, feeling an indescribable subtlety creep into her heart, but then dismissed the thought as too absurd and impossible.

Mu Hanjiang, having said this much, slowly exhaled: “The Grand Prince is naturally intelligent, but after suffering through ten years in the abandoned palace, he lacks some human constraints. With his temperament, without restraint, he’s like a trapped beast suddenly gaining tiger teeth and sharp claws, not knowing how to properly use his strength. I fear he might eventually… hurt others and himself without realizing it!”

Mu Hanjiang had witnessed the slaughter at Feng Tail Slope.

What the victory report had described in a few sentences as a triumphant return was, in his view, an uninhibited, blood-soaked massacre!

Such a bloodthirsty crown prince of Dafeng made Mu Hanjiang somewhat fearful, and he could no longer reconcile this figure with the quiet but warm-hearted boy from childhood.

Yet this feeling couldn’t be expressed publicly; he feared that speaking carelessly might harm Feng Yuan and send him back to the abandoned palace.

Mu Hanjiang ultimately valued that childhood friendship and hoped for Feng Yuan’s reversal of fortune.

So, seeing that the Crown Prince and Grand Prince got along relatively well, he hoped the Crown Prince’s generous and forthright nature might influence his elder brother, preventing his madness from crossing too many boundaries.

At the same time, by overstepping his bounds to say these things, he was also warning the Crown Prince: the power struggle among the royal dragon lineage had always been cruel and ugly.

He hoped the youth would not conspire with a fierce tiger for its skin. As for the Grand Prince himself, one should also be wary.

Xiaoying listened silently, then suddenly smiled mischievously: “I’d like to ask Lord Mu, if something unexpected were to happen between me and my Grand Brother in the future, who… would you help?”

Mu Hanjiang never answered such questions about taking sides; the elegant young lord appropriately lowered his gaze.

Xiaoying also knew when to stop, smiling: “Lord Mu overestimates me. I can’t look after Grand Brother’s affairs.”

Recalling the heart-wrenching moment when he thought the youth had perished in the fire, Mu Hanjiang suddenly felt somewhat relieved: such an intelligent and bright young man should naturally live the carefree life he preferred. Why must he be forced to tangle with the disputes of the capital…

However, there was one more matter Mu Hanjiang needed to clarify: “I heard the Grand Prince took it upon himself to grant amnesty to Meng Zhun’s rebel troops?”

This question must be the real purpose of Lord Mu’s visit, right?

“Yes, that rebel general Meng Zhun still had a patriotic heart. Seeing Wei troops approaching, as a common man, he should serve the country, so he went to Linchuan to request orders from the Grand Prince and General Luo Zhen, defending the dam and saving Linchuan from disaster. I heard the imperial edict granting amnesty will arrive soon!”

“Is the Little King of Hell among those receiving amnesty?”

Xiaoying chuckled dryly, not wanting to discuss this further. She leaned halfway out of the bed, coughing while saying: “The Grand Prince is handling those bandit-suppression matters; I’m not very clear about them. By the way, I’ve caught a cold these past few days and don’t feel like getting out of bed. Aren’t you returning to the capital tomorrow? I’d like to send a letter to Secretary Qin in the capital. Could you deliver it for me?”

The weather was cool at this time. Seeing the Crown Prince lean out from under the blanket wearing only a loose shirt, looking somewhat thin, Mu Hanjiang rose and took a padded jacket from nearby to drape over the Crown Prince.

Having heard the youth cough, although he knew it might be fake, staying warm couldn’t hurt.

However, Mu Hanjiang didn’t forget to probe: “The Grand Prince must have met the Little King of Hell, yes?”

Xiaoying lowered her head and rolled her eyes: Not only has he seen him, but you’ve seen him too! So what?

Just as she was considering how to phrase her response, a deep voice came from outside: “If Lord Mu wishes to inquire about amnesty matters, he can ask me directly, without disturbing the Crown Prince’s recuperation.”

As these words were spoken, Feng Yuan, who hadn’t been seen for a long time, strode into the room.

Glancing up, Feng Yuan saw Yan Xiaoying sitting on the bed, talking with Mu Hanjiang. Her slim body was thinly clothed, her collar somewhat carelessly loose, wisps of hair scattered on her cheeks, her face as delicate as a peach.

The radiant smile on her face was something he hadn’t seen in days.

Meanwhile, Mu Hanjiang was carefully draping clothes over her. From the angle of entry, it almost looked as if he was about to press Xiaoying down onto the bed…

A talented scholar and a beautiful woman—truly a scene worthy of being painted for posterity.

It seemed his appearance was untimely.

Upon his entrance, the Crown Prince’s blooming smile vanished, and she retreated completely behind the bed curtains, which were drawn tightly shut.

Feng Yuan’s gaze lowered, and after a moment of silence, he addressed Mu Hanjiang calmly: “You mainly want to ask about the Little King of Hell’s whereabouts. However, the Little King of Hell was not among those who surrendered. Meng Zhun said he accidentally fell off a cliff during the chaos and died.”

Mu Hanjiang’s obsession with the “Little King of Hell” was too deep. If he couldn’t personally see this enemy who had repeatedly outwitted him, he wouldn’t be satisfied.

So hearing Feng Yuan’s words, Mu Hanjiang didn’t believe them and smiled: “Fell off a cliff? With his martial skills?”

That night of escape from Dingshan, he had nearly faced the Little King of Hell directly. With such exceptional agility and jumping ability, how could he fall off a cliff?

Such an unconvincing explanation, yet Feng Yuan believed it?

Feng Yuan seemed somewhat impatient, his gaze turning cold: “Meng Zhun has already surrendered with his followers. The rebel disturbance is resolved—isn’t that good? Lord Mu, the Crown Prince, is tired. You should leave now.”

Mu Hanjiang looked up at Feng Yuan in surprise. He had already walked to the front of the bed curtains and was standing with his back to him.

The Grand Prince’s tone was unfriendly, and his entire aura… was very similar to that day at Feng Tail Slope. But this wasn’t a battlefield—why did the Grand Prince suddenly emit such killing intent?

Mu Hanjiang pressed his lips together and bowed with clasped hands: “I shall take my leave.”

After Mu Hanjiang left, Yan Xiaoying, hiding under the covers, expected Feng Yuan to leave as well.

Unexpectedly, the bed curtains were suddenly pulled open, and the man standing by the bed looked down at her. It had been many days since they had seen each other.

Xiaoying turned over, tucking in the blanket, and said: “I’m a bit sleepy. Grand Prince has just returned from the military camp; you should go rest too.”

The next moment, her blanket was violently pulled away, and the cold air after the rain rushed in, making Xiaoying shudder. She sat up abruptly, frowning: “What are you doing now?”

Feng Yuan looked down: “Aren’t you pretending to be ill? How are you so energetic? Chatting with him for the time it takes to burn a stick of incense?”

He calculated so precisely? Had he been standing outside the room earlier?

Feng Yuan’s unfriendly expression reminded Xiaoying of when he had kicked open the inn door that time. Like now, he had carried an indescribable gloominess.

Feng Yuan was somewhat mad, though he could usually control those irritable emotions within a certain range, slowly consuming and digesting them alone.

Just as he had every day and night during his ten years of imprisonment.

But he was still human, and there were always one or two times when he couldn’t control himself well, like at the inn that time, and just now.

Seeing the woman who avoided him like a snake or scorpion, sweetly smiling at Mu Hanjiang.

For a moment, Feng Yuan felt as if he were back on the Feng Tail Slope battlefield, wielding a horse-cutting long saber, slashing and chopping, blood splashing everywhere, unbridled, cutting down everything that obstructed him…

The two people chatting happily had no idea that he was tightly clenching his fist, the veins on his arm bulging, barely able to maintain composure while talking to Mu Hanjiang.

Now Mu Hanjiang was gone, and Yan Xiaoying had lost her smile, shrinking back under the blanket to avoid him.

Did this woman detest him so much? Not even willing to put on a fake smile, she was so adept at?

Feng Yuan even thought: keeping her here was indeed a mistake.

This feeling of being controlled by someone else’s moods, unable to restrain himself—how was it different from being poisoned with a mind-muddling drug?

If controlled by drugs, one only needed to endure the pain of a hundred ants gnawing at veins and skin, swallowing blood from bitten lips and tongue, fiercely gripping one’s hair, painfully tossing and turning through countless risings and settings of the moon.

But how could he completely break the addiction to this woman?

He abruptly closed his eyes, not wanting her to see the killing intent in them that he could barely suppress…

After shouting, Xiaoying somewhat regretted it.

She didn’t particularly enjoy being cold toward Feng Yuan. Although Feng Yuan had hidden in the military camp these past days, her mood hadn’t been entirely clear either.

Feng Yuan shouldn’t lose his temper randomly. Looking at him, he seemed to be struggling with some inner demon again, somewhat going mad.

The doors at Xinxin Garden were all very delicate and couldn’t withstand his kicks. So she softened her tone and asked: “When did you get back? Have you eaten?”

After speaking, she rose to call for the maids to find some warm food for him. But halfway there, her arm was grabbed by Feng Yuan: “Are you avoiding me again?”

The hand gripping her wrist was very strong, as if her answer displeased him, this section of her arm would be crushed.

Yan Xiaoying didn’t appreciate his questioning and coldly said, “This is your garden; where would I be avoiding you? Besides, you haven’t returned for days—you’re the one avoiding me! Ouch, you’re hurting me, let go! Coming back just to lose your temper—are there no suitable punching bags in the military camp, so you eagerly rush back to show your princely might to me?”

Feng Yuan pressed his lips together, slightly relaxing his grip, and said: “The military camp was busy; I couldn’t get away for a while…”

“Enough with the excuses! My foster father already said that all that’s left are minor details like counting supplies, checking personnel, and arranging defenses. Is there a mountain of gold and silver in the military camp that requires a noble prince like you to count?”

The lady had always been relentless when she had the upper hand. When she didn’t need to pretend to please someone, she was like the little King of Hell—willful and unrestrained.

For some reason, the bottled-up anger that had been about to explode was slightly suppressed under the lady’s aggressive questioning.

Feng Yuan raised his hand, and Xiaoying wanted to step back, but her wrist was still in his grip, unable to break free.

Feng Yuan tightened Xiaoying’s loose collar and said calmly: “How can you dress like this in front of him?”

Xiaoying looked down and saw that it was indeed somewhat inappropriate. Feng Yuan fixed her collar, then yanked off the padded jacket Mu Hanjiang had draped over her earlier, tossing it aside like garbage, and took another outer garment for Xiaoying to wear.

Seeing his silent demeanor, she tentatively asked: “Do you have other matters?”

As if to prove he wasn’t avoiding Xiaoying, Feng Yuan thought for a moment and said: “That day I saw you practicing in the martial arts field, seven out of ten points of force were imprecise. Today I have time, so I can give you some pointers.”

This was another case of Xiaoying bringing trouble on herself.

Having been defeated by Feng Yuan, Xiaoying was unwilling to accept it, so she had proposed practicing martial arts with Feng Yuan.

However, Feng Yuan had been busy planning the Linchuan operation; although he had agreed, he had no time.

But now, with their return to the capital imminent, he had developed the desire to be a teacher.

In the practice field beside the grove, while Xiaoying was distracted in thought, she was once again flipped to the ground by Feng Yuan.

Though exhausted, she was pulled up by Feng Yuan: “One more time. Didn’t I tell you to watch your back?”

Yan Xiaoying reflected that when she had taught in the abandoned palace, she had been reasonably relaxed and hadn’t wielded a teacher’s authority.

How was it that when Feng Yuan became the instructor, he turned into such an insatiable beast?

When Feng Yuan pulled her up again, still wanting to practice, Xiaoying seized his arm, pretending to be weakly exhausted: “Grand Prince, you’re not… taking revenge on me, are you?”

Just because she had ignored this noble prince’s favor and been cold to him for a few days, he repeatedly threw her around, trying to exhaust her to death in Xinxin Garden?

It seemed that Teacher Ge hadn’t taught this prince how to maintain a gentleman’s dignity when faced with a lady’s rejection.

This fellow was selfishly venting his frustration, tossing her around like beating laundry. At this rate, she would truly need to stay in Jiangzhe to nurse her liver and lungs.

Xiaoying knew when to show weakness, immediately drooping her eyes and whimpering: “I am, after all, a frail woman, and you are a great talent who commands thousands of troops. Don’t use all your strength on me alone!”

Feng Yuan frowned, not expecting that his training without reservation, meticulously instructing, had nearly made Xiaoying cry from exhaustion.

This wasn’t his intention. It was only because Teacher Ge and his wife’s days were too peacefully harmonious, with no moments of quarreling or cold silence.

He wanted to learn how to coax a woman who was ignoring him, but he had no example to follow.

“If you find my strength too great, I’ll be gentler next time.”

Listen to that—did that sound like something a person would say? Xiaoying puffed up angrily: “What gentler? Just stay away from me.”

Hearing this, Feng Yuan’s exhalation was icy: “Are you going to say again that we don’t match?”

…

Since noticing his impropriety in the carriage, Xiaoying had realized that this seemingly self-restrained Grand Prince harbored some ordinary human desires.

And on that rainy night when he returned from the military camp, Feng Yuan had revealed another side—his lack of selectiveness when drunk.

However, Xiaoying wasn’t a secluded maiden and couldn’t generate the romantic stories found in novels.

Who was Feng Yuan? Born to exceptional parents, he was the crown prince of Dafeng, naturally a noble son of heaven.

Even though he had experienced an unpleasant period in childhood, he had now returned to his rightful position—a precious noble whom commoners dared not aspire to touch.

Furthermore, he was tall and handsome; if he were willing to change his gloomy and unpredictable demeanor and say fewer things that put people in difficult positions, there would be countless noble ladies and beautiful concubines throwing themselves at him.

Her beauty couldn’t enter the Grand Prince’s eyes. This wasn’t self-deprecation, but fact.

In terms of birth, she, Yan Xiaoying, as the child of an actor who had engaged in banditry, was too lowly to be associated with nobility.

Moreover, her temperament was unwilling to be tainted by the powerful and noble.

So if the Grand Prince occasionally had some lustful thoughts due to male nature, he shouldn’t lower himself to be contaminated by common flowers and grasses.

If he could resist poisonous substances and fine wine, hibernating in the abandoned palace for ten years, how could he be troubled by female beauty?

Even though Feng Yuan had behaved improperly that night, Xiaoying didn’t intend to dwell on it, only hoping it would pass without a trace.

Yet this Grand Prince with his complex mind couldn’t let it go, insisting on teasing her about it at every turn, which made him increasingly annoying!

Seeing Xiaoying sitting on the ground, refusing to cooperate, Feng Yuan finally stopped bringing up the uncomfortable past.

He took a deep breath, opportunely changing the subject: “Are you hungry? I’ll have someone bring pastries from Hexiang Pavilion for you to eat.”

As he spoke, he pulled her up, then took her hand and walked toward a nearby pavilion.

Feng Yuan was such a contradictory person. He had explicitly said that if she were to dress as a woman, she should behave with restraint and dignity, generally maintaining a lady’s demeanor.

Yet he often forgot this, still treating her with the same informality as before.

Xiaoying was also confused, not knowing whether she should speak in a high-pitched voice, pretending to be shy and protesting his impropriety, or behave as she had when disguised as a man, disregarding details like hand-holding and arm-grabbing.

So she could only pretend nothing was wrong, walking quickly to escape his arm, then changing the subject: “Hexiang Pavilion? Didn’t that old shop close down years ago?”

Before her fallout with Feng Yuan, during casual conversation, she had mentioned in passing her regret at no longer being able to taste their walnut cookies.

When she saw the pastries arranged on the plate, Xiaoying was naturally curious and asked him where he had bought them.