Since Feng Yuan had offered to accompany her to explore nearby towns, they went down the mountain that day.

However, as they descended, they encountered two sturdy men climbing up.

The shorter one explained that they were two disciples Xiao Tianyang had taken years ago. They happened to be traveling near the capital, and hearing that their master had a villa on the mountain, they came to pay their respects.

Seeing the young couple coming down from the mountain, the shorter man curiously asked who they were.

Feng Yuan, unwilling to reveal his identity, simply said he was Swordmaster Xiao’s newly accepted disciple.

Because it was cold and windy, Xiaoying wore a hooded cloak that completely covered her face.

The other man, who had a mole on his chin, looked Xiaoying up and down and asked curiously: “Are you… Also newly accepted our master?”

Before Xiaoying could speak, Feng Yuan coldly replied: “Aren’t you the old man’s disciple? You should understand his character. When has he ever accepted female disciples?”

The man with the black mole on his chin smiled awkwardly: “I was just curious seeing a young lady here. Well… little junior brother, we’ll go up to see Master first, and chat another time.”

With that, the two men didn’t waste more words and continued up the mountain.

Feng Yuan called to Shen Jing: “Go back and check, confirm those two men’s identities.”

Because of what happened at Yuxiu Village, Feng Yuan feared the master might target those close to him again, so he had to increase his vigilance.

Soon, Shen Jing came down from the mountain and told Feng Yuan that the two men were indeed called Ning Yu and Liu Cheng, truly disciples from Swordmaster Xiao’s earlier years.

“This servant also followed your instructions and reminded Swordmaster Xiao not to mention the young lady’s connection to you to irrelevant people.”

Hearing this, Feng Yuan nodded, then helped Xiaoying into the carriage and set off toward the township.

Feng Yuan’s understanding of “township” seemed somewhat different from Xiaoying’s.

When Xiaoying got out of the carriage, she discovered he had brought her to the Main Clothing Bureau’s weaving workshop, a hundred miles from the capital.

The craftsmen here were all invited from various large weaving workshops in Jiangnan, and the silk was a precious material transported from Huaixiang.

The busy workshops spreading over hundreds of miles in this area produced fabrics exclusively for the royal family.

When Feng Yuan asked Xiaoying to select fabric patterns from a catalog, she couldn’t help but laugh: “If you want to buy me new clothes, just go to a ready-made clothing shop in town. Choosing such expensive fabrics is too formal for daily wear—wouldn’t they just end up at the bottom of a chest?”

But Feng Yuan insisted that since they were already there, why not choose?

Although Xiaoying usually dressed as a man, she was still a young lady who loved beautiful things at heart.

She rejected verbally, but her eyes honestly picked and chose, and soon she had selected more than a dozen styles.

Feng Yuan instructed the manager of the Main Clothing Bureau to note these down and recommend which kinds of fabrics would be suitable for ceremonial dresses in these styles.

So the manager called over a tailor to measure the young lady.

Xiaoying looked at the ceremonial dress styles Feng Yuan had chosen—gowns with trains that dragged on the ground and were to be inlaid with pearls and gems.

In her view, even the princesses of Dafeng wouldn’t dare wear such extravagant dresses to palace banquets.

“Have you gone mad? Even if you have money, this isn’t how to spend it. Would I wear such a dress to attend a dinner at some countryside gentry’s home?”

If she were still pretending to be Feng Yuan’s concubine, she might have had opportunities to wear these dresses to banquets in the capital, letting those noble ladies scrutinize her.

But now, seeing that she would soon have to return home to Jiangzhe, what was the point of these ceremonial clothes?

But Feng Yuan just glanced at her and continued choosing undergarment styles on his own.

True to Jiangnan’s reputation for fine craftsmanship, the undergarments were as thin as cicada wings. Gathered into a ball and held in one hand, they were no bigger than an apple.

When those delicate undergarments bloomed like summer flowers in Feng Yuan’s large, well-defined hand, and were then shaken open, Yan Xiaoying, who had never been awkward in front of others, felt like a crab being steamed, turning red from head to toe…

She deliberately used her body to block the view of the manager and embroidery ladies nearby, pointing at the garment: “Is this chosen for you or me?”

If Feng Yuan had chosen it for himself, she… probably wouldn’t object. His tightly toned muscle lines wearing this would be like being wrapped in transparent sugar coating—quite pleasing to the eye, right?

But if it were for her to wear… wouldn’t it be like wearing nothing?

She would never accept that!

Feng Yuan smiled and didn’t insist.

However, when Xiaoying wasn’t paying attention, he still gestured to the manager to add these undergarments to the list, along with a bridal gown that needed to be quickly modified.

Since his Xiaoying loved beauty, on the day of their ceremony, she should wear the most beautiful wedding dress.

After leaving the Main Clothing Bureau, Feng Yuan took her to eat and drink along the way, but they didn’t look at houses.

After all, Xiaoying was a seventeen-year-old girl. When she had nothing to worry about and someone took her to play, she didn’t think of serious matters.

When it came to common people’s amusements, Feng Yuan wasn’t very knowledgeable. In his brief childhood, no one had specially taken him to play in the marketplace.

Even now, looking at these things, Feng Yuan wasn’t very interested. His daily routine, apart from earnestly eating, was practicing martial arts and reading books. He had no interest in anything that didn’t serve his purposes, such as calligraphy and painting, which noble sons typically enjoyed as refined pastimes—he never bothered to study them.

Xiaoying remembered that when they stayed in the same room at the prince’s mansion, Feng Yuan would often go to the adjacent study and continue reading by lamplight after she had fallen into deep sleep and occasionally woke up at night.

Only then did Xiaoying realize why Feng Yuan had made such rapid progress in both martial arts and academics after leaving the Desolate Palace. He was truly studying diligently with hanging beams and piercing thighs to make up for the ten years that had been taken from him.

This made Xiaoying feel slightly guilty as he now patiently accompanied her around the marketplace, thinking she was wasting his time.

“Why don’t you go back first? I can find a house with Xiaowu and the others. Don’t waste your time.”

Feng Yuan fed her the roast pork cake in his hand, then lowered his head seriously: “How is accompanying you a waste of time?”

Xiaoying knew that this Crown Prince wasn’t someone skilled at flattery, so when he said this, he truly meant it.

In Feng Yuan’s heart, accompanying her was as important as becoming stronger and seizing power.

She liked this Feng Yuan, who, though a royal son, had not yet been corrupted by power like his father, and could make room in his heart for a woman of the Yan family.

This made her eyes bright, and as she hooked her arm through his, she thought: she must make sure he enjoyed himself thoroughly, so as not to waste his good intentions.

So in the following activities, Xiaoying taught him many tricks, such as how to quickly secure a position at the front when a street performance was about to begin.

This way, when watching jugglers swallowing swords or walking on high ropes, there would be no obstructions, making it most exciting.

Sometimes, if they moved too slowly and couldn’t get to the very front, it didn’t matter. Feng Yuan noticed other adults lifting children onto their shoulders for a better view and thought this method excellent.

With his amazing arm strength, he reached out and lifted Xiaoying high, letting her sit on his shoulders.

A child nearby, biting a candied hawthorn, curiously looked at the newcomer and asked in a childish voice: “Big sister, how old are you?”

Xiaoying steadied herself and smiled at the child: “Just a little older than you…”

But Feng Yuan was already tall and imposing, and with the young lady hoisted up, they became like a towering mountain peak in the crowd.

At this, the people behind them protested: “Hey, sir, you don’t look that old, but your daughter is already so big? Aren’t you embarrassed by lifting her so high? How are we supposed to see?”

Feng Yuan turned his head and gave them a cold look. His wild and handsome appearance initially stunned those around, and his aura of bloodshed, combined with his icy gaze, intimidated people into holding back their harsh words.

However, the young lady he was holding high understood common courtesy and smiled, patting Feng Yuan’s shoulder to signal him to put her down, not wanting to block others’ view of the performance.

So Feng Yuan simply held her around the waist, keeping her at his height so she could still see clearly.

Amidst the crowd’s merriment, Xiaoying thought she heard someone calling her name. She turned her head, scanning the crowd, but saw nothing. Yet after a while, the calling grew closer, and when she asked Feng Yuan to lift her high again, she suddenly spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Xiaoying quickly patted Feng Yuan’s arm. Following her gaze, Feng Yuan’s expression sharpened, and he signaled Shen Jing behind him to go find the person.

Meanwhile, Feng Yuan took Xiaoying to a quiet tea house and booked a private room.

Soon, Shen Jing brought the person up. Jian Hu, in a disheveled state, fell to her knees. She looked at Xiaoying in women’s clothes, then at the Crown Prince sitting nearby, and cried out sorrowfully: “This servant has finally found you both!”

Xiaoying hadn’t seen Jian Hu for a long time and quickly helped her up, asking: “How did you end up here?”

Before leaving Jiangnan, she had deliberately left Jian Hu and Jin Zhong behind, so that when the “Crown Prince” eventually died, these two would have their freedom.

According to the earlier arrangement between Mu Hanjiang and Feng Yuan, they had planned to have the Crown Prince immediately “pass away” to eliminate future troubles.

By Xiaoying’s calculation, the “Crown Prince” should have already been buried, so why was Jian Hu appearing here in such a disheveled state?

Jian Hu seemed not to have eaten for a long time. She first devoured the tea cakes ravenously before finally being able to speak calmly: “Something terrible has happened, the Crown Prince… seems to be coming back!”

Xiaoying’s pupils dilated slightly as she asked urgently: “What exactly happened?”

Although her brother had followed the opera troupe, Feng Yuan had also arranged for reliable people to accompany him, fearing accidents.

The north was so far away, with no court nobles present. Even if her brother appeared on stage, he would be wearing thick makeup. How could he possibly be recognized?

What did Jian Hu mean by saying the Crown Prince was coming back? Was she saying Feng Qiyuan was returning?

Just then, someone from Feng Yuan’s mansion arrived on horseback, bringing a pigeon-delivered message for Feng Yuan.

Feng Yuan opened the note and read it, his expression grave: “Feng Qiyuan has indeed encountered trouble…”

It turned out that after Feng Qiyuan’s opera troupe had traveled to northern villages and towns, they planned to return for winter break.

It was too cold, and the performers’ throats suffered from outdoor performances, so they planned to close for the year, waiting for the coldest months to pass before reopening.

At the closing banquet, they typically invited regular patrons for a thank-you drink.

The trouble started at this banquet when one old patron brought a distinguished guest who loved opera.

This guest was from the capital, and upon seeing Feng Qiyuan’s face, was shocked speechless. Fortunately, Feng Qiyuan had used an alias in the troupe—”Zong Bao,” a name Xiaoying had given him.

When the man came to toast Feng Qiyuan, his fluent capital accent made Feng Qiyuan wary. However, Feng Qiyuan followed the story Xiaoying had prepared for him, saying he had been with the Jiangzhe troupe leader and had lived in the north for months, so his accent had become a mix of southern and northern dialects, making it impossible to detect the capital accent. Thus, there were no inconsistencies.

The man questioned him for a long time, but the troupe leader, who had received silver from people sent by Xiaoying earlier, also followed the prearranged story to cover for Feng Qiyuan.

Having confirmed that Feng Qiyuan had indeed been performing with the troupe since childhood, the distinguished guest finally relented.

Afterward, the opera troupe closed for the season and prepared to return home.

But on the way, when the troupe stayed at an inn, no one came down for lunch, even by noon the next day.

When the person responsible for protecting Feng Qiyuan sensed something was wrong and kicked open the inn rooms, they discovered everyone in the troupe had been drugged and had their throats cut while sleeping.

However, among the bodies strewn about, Feng Qiyuan was notably missing.

Hearing this, Xiaoying’s hands and feet grew cold. She turned to ask Jian Hu: “Tell me, what’s the situation on your end?”

It turned out that the Crown Prince’s Jiangzhe villa had, early on, arranged for the Crown Prince’s “early death,” but due to Mu Hanjiang’s close surveillance, they couldn’t implement it.

When Mu Hanjiang finally stopped watching and withdrew his guards, they saw their chance and immediately arranged for the Crown Prince to “die of illness,” even preparing a similar-looking corpse.

This way, even if His Majesty ordered the coffin to be brought to the capital for burial, by the time the body arrived in the capital, it would be so decomposed that the face would be unrecognizable, making verification impossible.

But just as the memorial reporting the Crown Prince’s death had been sent out, before it reached the local officials,

During the night, while the coffin was in the hall, a group of masked men suddenly entered the villa, killing indiscriminately as if leaving no survivors.

Jian Hu and Jin Zhong were quick-witted in emergencies, especially Jian Hu, who had survived from the palace to Jiangzhe thanks to her courage, honed by the fake Crown Prince.

Long before, as a precaution, she had dug a hole in the corner of the villa, like a dog hole, concealed by thatch and not easily noticed.

When the situation in the hall turned dire, she quickly grabbed Jin Zhong, who was wailing nearby, slipped through the hole, and crawled out, narrowly escaping under the cover of night.

Jian Hu knew that if the false identity of the Crown Prince was exposed, it would be a disaster implicating nine clans.

Being skilled and daring, before escaping, she set fire to the hall, pouring oil from the eternal lamp container around the coffin. Even if those people broke into open the coffin and examined the body, they would find only a charred corpse!

Jian Hu said that after she and Jin Zhong escaped that day, they secretly returned to observe the villa’s situation, but from a distance, they only saw cart after cart covered with black cloth being transported out.

“What they were carrying were likely the bodies of the guards and servants from the villa! The people in the villa, like those in the opera troupe, were all slaughtered to silence them!” At this point, Jian Hu shuddered with lingering fear.

Hearing this, Xiaoying asked nonchalantly: “Why did you pull Jin Zhong to escape with you?”

Jian Hu’s face fell: “In the hurry, I had no money. How could a woman survive alone outside? But Jin Zhong was different—he loved to hoard money. He always kept banknotes in his shoe insoles. If I were going to escape, I naturally needed to grab a big wallet!”

If it weren’t for her brother’s situation, Xiaoying might have been amused by Jian Hu’s cleverness. Now she only furrowed her brow and asked: “Where is Jin Zhong now?”

“We fled together, constantly watching for official announcements. Logically, whether the Crown Prince died or his body was robbed by bandits, local authorities should issue wanted notices. But Jin Zhong and I circled Jiangzhe and found no news. Later, we heard that the Crown Prince was heading back to the capital. I was completely confused because the Crown Prince’s carriage did come from the villa, but I didn’t recognize any of the guards or attendants accompanying it. Jin Zhong didn’t know about your impersonation, and I couldn’t explain the internal complexities to him. He insisted on pursuing the Crown Prince, but wouldn’t that be like sending a meat bun to a dog? I could only trick him, saying I had received a secret order from the Crown Prince for us to return to the capital covertly, as I wanted to find you and the Crown Prince first to discuss further strategy.”

At this point, thinking of the hardships of these days, Jian Hu began to cry so hard that her nose was running: “But as we were about to enter the city, Jin Zhong accidentally revealed his wealth and was targeted by some ruffians. They searched him and stole his money pouch. While protecting me, he was beaten and injured. We were left with only a few dozen coins and had to scrimp and save, surviving on one bun a day. Jin Zhong lost his money and was already irritable, then fell ill and collapsed in a thatched tavern outside the city. I had no choice but to go out to the town to gather information and buy some cheap cakes. I never expected to see you riding on the Crown Prince’s shoulders from afar, which is why I came looking for you.”

Hearing this, Xiaoying’s usually clear mind was in rare disarray. She paced around for a few circles and asked: “So the Crown Prince’s procession is about to enter the capital?”

Jian Hu nodded.

Feng Yuan pondered alongside, then stated firmly: “Feng Qiyuan has been restored to his position. Someone wants the Crown Prince to return to the capital quickly.”

Xiaoying quickly calmed herself. The fact that the Crown Prince’s death had not been announced meant her brother was temporarily safe.

There were two possibilities: one was that they knew the Crown Prince, who died of illness, was fake, so they found the real Feng Qiyuan to return what belonged to him.

The other possibility was somewhat bizarre—they hadn’t recognized that the actor Zong Bao was Feng Qiyuan, but because of his appearance, they had taken her brother to impersonate the Crown Prince…

In other words, someone was following her previous path, trying to replace the real with the fake, but accidentally exchanged the true one back.

When Xiaoying shared her thoughts, Feng Yuan considered and said, “Whichever it is, someone wants to control the Crown Prince, which is why they massacred the Jiangzhe villa!”

“Neither is important—my brother can’t re-enter the palace.”

Previously, no matter what, her brother at least had the viper-like Tang family to rely on.

But if he returned to the palace now, the person who schemed to capture him would certainly control him tightly, making his situation a hundred times more perilous than before he escaped the palace!

Feng Yuan had thought of this critical point. He put his arm around Xiaoying’s shoulders, comforting her: “Don’t worry. A’Yuan is not in immediate danger. I’ll have people investigate the Crown Prince’s procession and personally go to see him.”

Jian Hu was still in shock, yet she saw the supposedly mad Crown Prince intimately embracing the fake Crown Prince, even gently comforting her.

For a moment, Jian Hu felt mentally disoriented, suspecting that her recent lack of food had given her visual hallucinations.