At dawn, when the first rays of morning light filtered through the dense branches and spilled into the forest, a sharp scream shattered the stillness of the woods.

When Qiao Mu woke up, she discovered that she was actually lying sprawled across a man’s chest. One of her hands had even slipped through the collar of his torn-open robe, reaching toward the center of his chest, near his heart.

Feng Jiang was jolted awake, his eyes still hazy with sleep as he looked at the woman still lying on top of him.

Their eyes met, and for a moment neither of them could react.

Outside the tent, Feng Jiu’er and Jian Yi exchanged a glance and walked together toward the tent where Qiao Mu had been resting. Feng Jiu’er had no idea that Feng Jiang was inside as well, and she lifted the tent flap and stepped straight in.

Sensing someone enter, Feng Jiang and Qiao Mu both turned to look outside at the same time.

Seeing the two of them in such a position, Feng Jiu’er gave a light cough and, as if nothing had happened, turned and walked back out.

A moment later, the tent flap rose and fell again, and Feng Jiu’er reappeared outside the tent.

“Jiu’er, what happened to Qiao Mu?” Jian Yi asked quietly.

The forest still harbored many poisonous creatures, and Jian Yi was worried that something venomous had gotten into Qiao Mu’s tent and bitten her.

“Nothing’s wrong. She’s perfectly fine,” Feng Jiu’er said with a faint smile.

“If she’s fine, why did she scream?” Jian Yi frowned, his thick brows knitting together, and turned to head back.

His complaint was overheard by the people inside.

Qiao Mu frowned, looked down at the man beneath her, and raised her fist.

“Wait.” Feng Jiang suddenly snapped back to his senses and tried to sit up. “Don’t you think I’m the one who’s been wronged here?”

The fist wasn’t large, but the internal energy gathered within it was considerable. If she struck down with it, Feng Jiang had no doubt that his perfectly good looks would be ruined on the spot.

“You’ve been wronged?” Qiao Mu’s eyes narrowed sharply. She glanced down at their positions and immediately slid off of him.

She gave a light cough, then turned her gaze back to Feng Jiang’s face.

Feng Jiang stared at her without blinking, his expression deadly serious and tinged with a hint of fear. His stiff body gave a small nod.

“Isn’t that exactly what happened?”

The moment he finished speaking, he had already sat up to face her directly. Seeing that her clothes were properly arranged, and after glancing down to check his own condition, he let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Clearly, I’m the one who was taken advantage of here. But as a magnanimous imperial prince, I won’t hold it against someone as petty as you. I forgive you.”

With that single remark tossed out, Feng Jiang immediately stood up and strode out of the tent like an arrow loosed from a bow. If he didn’t leave now, he worried his life might actually be in danger.

Had he known something like this would happen, he never should have responded when he heard her cry out the night before.

Just moments ago, everyone had heard Qiao Mu’s scream coming from inside the tent, and now they all watched, wide-eyed, as Feng Jiang emerged from the tent in visible haste.

Seeing the state Feng Jiang was in, anyone who didn’t know better might have assumed some venomous snake or beast was chasing him.

The brothers gathered around eating or resting glanced at Feng Jiang, paused for a moment in surprise, and then burst into delighted laughter.

Feng Jiang glanced around, feeling a chill still lingering on his chest, and immediately lowered his head to straighten his robes. He didn’t offer a single word of explanation, gave a light cough, and walked off as though nothing had happened.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together, smiling, and followed after him.

“Where are you headed? We set out in a quarter hour—aren’t you going to let Qiao Mu come out and eat something too?”

Watching her third imperial brother in this state, Feng Jiu’er couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

She never would have guessed that Qiao Mu—heh, heh—had put on quite a performance.

“I’m going to relieve myself,” Feng Jiang said.

His words made Feng Jiu’er decide not to press the matter further.

Just as she turned back, the other person inside the tent also lifted the flap and stepped out.

Qiao Mu shot Feng Jiu’er a slightly resentful glance, walked over to a spot, stopped, and took the steamed bun a brother handed to her.

Throughout the entire morning meal, Qiao Mu kept a dark expression on her face. None of the brothers dared say anything, and even Feng Jiu’er didn’t dare push her luck.

A quarter hour later, the group was ready to set out. The injured brothers rode on horseback, Qiao Mu among them, while the others continued on foot. Taking a shortcut, before long they finally left behind the forest that had claimed so many lives.

After leaving the forest, everyone mounted the horses that had already been prepared and rode swiftly toward Black Pool. They pressed onward without rest through an entire day and night, until the group finally entered a vast grassland.

They passed through strangely shaped stone forests, crossed woods as desolate as a forbidden zone, and traveled over mountain streams where there was barely a path to speak of—until suddenly, they arrived at a place that seemed like a paradise untouched by the world.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu rode their horses forward for about half a mile, gazing at the boundless grassland stretching before them, unable to keep a delighted smile from spreading across their faces.

“I never imagined the Feng Clan had a place this beautiful,” Qiao Mu said with feeling, looking toward the distant low hills.

Even in late autumn, the vegetation here remained lush and green. Feng Jiu’er spread her arms wide and took several deep breaths of the fresh air.

“The Feng Clan has always been beautiful. You simply never had the chance to truly appreciate it.”

Feng Jiu’er wasn’t exaggerating—she had always thought the Feng Clan was beautiful, far more so than the Beimu Kingdom. It was a pity that this time, she hadn’t arrived under the right circumstances, and she hadn’t had the chance to properly enjoy the scenery.

“Young Master, continuing forward for about a hundred miles will bring us to Black Pool,” said one of the captured men, riding up to Feng Jiang and pointing in a direction.

Zhao Yusheng, seated on horseback, brought out a map and rode closer.

“According to the route on the map, I have a rough idea of where the exact location is.”

“Is it this direction?” Feng Jiang asked, looking toward the distance.

The edges of the dark land stretched across a wide area that was all part of Black Pool, and the captured man had only pointed to one section of it.

“There’s some discrepancy, but the general direction is correct,” Zhao Yusheng said with a nod.

Feng Jiang nodded as well, his gaze settling on the several captured men. Zhao Yusheng didn’t disturb him further and turned to head toward Zhan Qingcheng.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu paid no attention to what was happening behind them and instead rode to a nearby stream, dismounting from their horses.

Feng Jiu’er took out her silver needles, bent down by the stream to test the water, then turned her head with a smile toward Qiao Mu.

“Well?” Qiao Mu asked softly.

“The water quality is good,” Feng Jiu’er said, raising an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling slightly.

“Just tell me whether it’s drinkable,” Qiao Mu said, rolling up her sleeves and glancing sideways at her companion.

To Qiao Mu, Feng Jiu’er was something of a sly little spirit—there were many times she genuinely couldn’t follow what Feng Jiu’er meant. Still, she never held it against her; if she didn’t understand something, she simply asked.

Seeing Feng Jiu’er nod, she immediately untied the water pouch at her waist and set it in the stream. With a series of gurgling sounds, the pouch soon filled.

Qiao Mu sat by the stream, sipping the water at her leisure. Feng Jiu’er also untied her own pouch, filled it, and took several satisfied gulps. She wiped the water from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, then bent down again to refill the pouch.

By the time Mu Mu and Jian Yi rode up close, Qiao Mu was still resting by the stream, and Feng Jiu’er was still bent over the water. Looking at the small figure’s back, Jian Yi leaped down from his horse and casually took the water pouch tied to his saddle. Soon he came up beside Feng Jiu’er, rolled up his sleeves, and crouched down halfway.