Blood covered the ground, the person lying there alive or dead unknown, the crowd surged forward with cries of alarm, her brother once again framed her in the heat of the moment and fled.
The events of this instant happened too quickly and too unexpectedly. Feng Zhiwei had always been composed, but even now she was momentarily stunned.
Standing there, she looked in the direction Feng Hao had disappeared. Anger surged in her heart in an instant, and then she heard a slight “crack” sound from her hand.
After that sound, fine dust drifted in the air. The aggressive crowd suddenly stopped in their tracks.
Feng Zhiwei lowered her head and saw that the half brick in her hand had somehow shattered into countless pieces and fallen to the ground.
This move shocked that group of young masters, and it shocked her too. Feng Zhiwei looked at her hand incredulously, examining it for a long time but couldn’t see where anything abnormal had occurred.
She tried to recapture that instant feeling when her blood surged up, and pinched again to test it. As a result, the brick fragments in her hand didn’t move at all.
The people surrounding her from all sides had already stopped, looking at her in alarm. Feng Zhiwei opened her hand and let the brick fragments fall to the ground. She ground them under her foot, leaving only a pile of ash marks on the ground.
Then she smiled: “Oh my, why did this brother suddenly fall down? Quickly send him for medical treatment!”
“…”
Everyone stared blankly at the “murderer” who had just been gripping a blood-stained brick but was now working hard to arrange救援. For a moment, they couldn’t keep up with Feng Zhiwei’s bizarre train of thought.
“This humble person is just a poor scholar,” Feng Zhiwei patted the dust from her palms. That gesture immediately made the young master at the forefront retreat a timid step. “I have no money to pay medical fees, so I won’t meddle further. This brother’s injuries are serious. Gentlemen, please, quickly please.”
Smiling, she gestured with her hand to the people who were stunned senseless. Feng Zhiwei was graceful and composed as she turned and made her exit.
A gust of cold wind blew past. The clothes on her back stuck to her body, chilly.
A few more steps, and she could escape from this group’s line of sight…
“Clap, clap, clap.”
Three slow, measured clapping sounds rose abruptly in the eerie silence.
Feng Zhiwei turned her head and saw two men sitting on two fine horses not far away, with a large group of officials and constables following behind them.
On the white horse to the left was a young man in a bright purple brocade robe. Handsome with still some childishness remaining, his eyes were dark and bright like black pearls, staring wide at her.
On the black horse to the right, a man casually looked down at her. His moon-white robe with hidden green chi-pattern was elegant as a beam of mountain moonlight, complementing his features and temperament. His cloak, however, was deep black, embroidered with large pale gold mandala flowers that flowed like water over his shoulders—alluring yet stern. His entire person possessed a contradictory seductive beauty.
His eyes were calm and deep. The gaze fixed on Feng Zhiwei showed no ripples whatsoever.
Feng Zhiwei awkwardly tugged at the corners of her mouth—last time she had just assured him she wouldn’t cause trouble or kill anyone, and so quickly she encountered this kind of scene again.
This time was even worse. She wielded a brick to assault someone on the street, splitting open their head.
She was, after all, born a proper young lady from a good family, always following rules and regulations. Why was it that every time she met him it was such a coincidence? Ah, perhaps their fates were incompatible.
The purple-robed young man stared from horseback, pointing at Feng Zhiwei, stammering: “You—you—”
Feng Zhiwei’s heart sank. She knew these people must have already seen her holding the brick. To bluff her way through today would be very difficult.
That young man indeed saw Feng Zhiwei destroy the murder weapon and brazenly deny responsibility. He instinctively was about to speak out, but somehow, seeing Feng Zhiwei’s eyes—angry yet composed in this critical moment—he opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat.
He looked somewhat helplessly toward Sixth Brother at his side, feeling that Sixth Brother, who was always deep and inscrutable, was looking at someone with rather strange eyes at this moment.
His riding crop lightly tapped the gold-inlaid saddle. The man on the black horse didn’t let his younger brother finish speaking completely before opening his mouth: “What’s the commotion?”
“Your Highness!” That group of young masters rushed over as if seeing their savior, but didn’t dare approach too close to the horse. “Young Master Wu has been killed!”
Feng Zhiwei’s heart sank again—surnamed Wu, and also called Young Master, clearly a direct lineage descendant of the current Duke of Fuguo’s family. Feng Hao had actually associated with noble young masters of this level and caused such a great disaster!
And this man she’d encountered three times—which prince was he? The rumors said the Crown Prince’s temperament was volatile, the Second Prince was martial and domineering, the Fifth Prince was cold and difficult to approach, the Sixth Prince belonged to the Crown Prince’s faction and was famous in the imperial capital for his beauty, romantic nature, and willful personality, the Seventh Prince was on good terms with the Fifth Prince with a decent reputation in court and country and was the first among the princes to be enfeoffed, while the Tenth Prince was young without much rumor about him.
Judging by age, he was either the Sixth or Seventh Prince.
“Fools.” The man’s upturned eyes were filled with contempt. He pointed his riding crop at the young man on the ground: “Don’t you even know whether he’s dead or alive?”
Everyone swarmed again to look at the injured person on the ground. Several young masters hurriedly carried him away for treatment. The Commander of the Nine Cities Guards, who managed the capital’s security, rode to the man’s side and asked with a frown: “Do you know who the assailant is?”
“Him!” The others pointed in unison at Feng Zhiwei.
Feng Zhiwei looked surprised and took a step back, innocently widening her eyes: “A curious passerby, unintentionally involved, wildly implicated—how unjust!”
“In a melon field wearing shoes, when trouble suddenly arises, not knowing to avoid it, you deserve the disaster.” That man looked down at her from his high position, responding fluently and swiftly, completely blocking Feng Zhiwei.
Raising her eyes, their gazes collided again—one wary, one coldly stern. After a long moment, Feng Zhiwei lowered her eyes, taking the initiative to yield.
The situation was stronger than the person. Even with a bellyful of sharp wit, it was best not to show it off at this time.
Although this person was unfathomable, at least in those words, he had vaguely, faintly helped clear her of some involvement.
The Nine Cities Commander’s face showed slight difficulty. He bowed to the man: “Your Highness, Duke Fuguo will certainly demand an explanation. This person bears suspicion…”
His phoenix eyes glanced sideways at Feng Zhiwei. The man said lightly: “Since you say you’re wronged, can you identify who the real assailant is?”
Feng Zhiwei froze. In that instant, her thoughts raced. After a long while, she bit her teeth and suppressed the intention to expose Feng Hao. What use would exposing him serve? Pull up the radish and bring out the mud—not to mention her errand boy identity at the brothel being exposed, once the Qiu manor found out, they might even add insult to injury. Moreover, when the time came, would Mother once again make that same choice between her and her brother?
Her heart ached, but her face showed nothing. She smiled calmly and pointed behind her: “Just now I saw someone with blood all over their hands leap over the wall and head west.”
The young man on the white horse choked and suddenly couldn’t stop coughing. The man on the black horse turned to look at him. The young man smiled sheepishly: “Uh, Sixth Brother, it’s nothing. The wind was strong and I bit my tongue.”
Sixth Brother… So he really was the Sixth Prince, Prince Chu Ning Yi. As for this one who “bit his tongue because the wind was strong,” naturally that was the Tenth Prince Ning Ji.
A poem had once circulated in the capital: “Early plum blossoms on tall trees, reflecting back the azure Chu sky.” It alluded to Ning Yi, who held the title Prince of Chu.
Among the current princes, originally the one with the greatest prominence was neither the Crown Prince nor the Seventh Prince known as the Virtuous Prince, but this precociously wise Sixth Prince. It was said that when this son was born, palace attendants heard the sound of ritual music from the heavens. However, this legend didn’t seem to bring him good fortune. Just a few months later, his mother-consort died from postpartum hemorrhage, disappearing soundlessly into the towering imperial city. Afterward, the Empress had tried to raise him at her knee, but for some unknown reason, she soon handed him over to her cousin, Noble Consort Yao, to raise.
In the rumors, Ning Yi was extremely late to speak, only uttering his first words at age three. But it was as if those belated first words opened the gate to his lifelong brilliance. At five, he broke the master go player’s Precious Jade endgame. At seven, he composed poetry with the world’s foremost talent, the remarkably gifted Xin Ziyan. In the time it took to drink tea, the “Shengfeng Rhapsody” was complete—a grand thousand-character rhapsody, flowing with brilliant literary qi and magnificent imagery that made the uniquely talented Xin Ziyan slap the table in amazement and accept him as a friend despite their age difference. Because of this, Xin accepted the imperial invitation to become the head of the world’s foremost academy, causing Ning Yi to create a sensation in the capital.
But all that brilliance seemed like a flash in the pan. When Ning Yi was seven, after Tiansheng was founded, a severe illness buried that bright child’s infinite talents. The Ning Yi who struggled back from death’s door underwent a great change in temperament. From then on, he frequented pleasure districts and indulged in courtesans. The Xie family’s Swallow, the Wang family’s Willow—the romantically inclined Sixth Prince Ning became a favored guest constantly called with charming voices from between the red lips and white teeth of the capital’s courtesans.
Because of this, Xin Ziyan once sighed privately to a friend: “I wish to give you ten thousand li, but vast mountains and rivers separate us”—this was the next line of that poem alluding to Ning Yi. The meaning within was profound and inexpressible. However, regardless of what meaning there was, regardless of whether someone had once tried to “give him ten thousand li,” for the current Ning Yi, it no longer held any significance.
Also because of that illness, Ning Yi never went to the Chu lands in Tiansheng’s northwest to take up his fief, remaining in the imperial capital to recuperate—whether recuperating with medicine or with beauties and fragrant waters was worth pondering, of course.
However, Feng Zhiwei absolutely would not ponder this question now. She pointed solemnly in that direction. Ning Yi glanced at her and hadn’t yet spoken when that “wind was strong and I bit my tongue” Tenth Prince Ning Ji already said with a smile: “Then, please trouble you to lead the way?”
His smile was crafty, his bright dark eyes turning round and round, looking like he was watching a good show, thinking Feng Zhiwei would surely feel guilty. But unexpectedly, Feng Zhiwei nodded and turned to walk away.
“Follow!” Ning Ji was stunned but his reaction was quick.
The constables hurriedly followed. Feng Zhiwei led them turning left and twisting right into a small alley, saying: “I saw someone go into this alley.”
She was pointing to precisely that wide-robed person’s dwelling—since Ning Yi was willing to give her another chance to save herself, she instantly thought of this mysterious person. Exposing Feng Hao might still implicate herself, but exposing this person, at the very least he could protect himself. In case a fight broke out, she could fish in troubled waters and escape.
Thinking this, Feng Zhiwei quietly retreated several steps back, waiting for chaos to erupt so she could immediately flee.
She was moving backward while facing the constables when she suddenly felt a chill at her back. Something hard pressed against her waist.
Turning around, she saw a gold-inlaid, jade-embedded riding crop lying across her lower back. From horseback, Ning Yi leaned down with his elegant features and smiled at her with almost intimate warmth: “Where are you going?”