“However…” Han Ying tilted her head, glancing at Feng Li.

“The eminent monk once said that this place shouldn’t allow too many people in, especially members of the imperial bloodline — it’s best they enter as little as possible, lest they be eroded.”

“My lord, you should still go outside.”

Feng Li stared unblinking at everything below, his gaze calm and indifferent.

“My lord.” After a moment, Han Ying called out again.

Just as she reached out to touch Feng Li, he turned and walked toward the steps to one side.

“My lord, why won’t you heed the eminent monk’s words?”

“This king does not believe in gods and spirits.” Feng Li tossed out the line flatly.

Not only him — Feng Qiongcang, too, had always been a nonbeliever in the supernatural.

Feng Li couldn’t understand just what had happened to make Feng Qiongcang go to such lengths, even disturbing the Late Emperor’s coffin.

He walked step by step down the stairs, his gaze fixed the whole time on the stone carvings below.

Han Ying swept a glance over those stone blocks, a flicker of disdain crossing her eyes.

She said nothing more and followed after Feng Li.

Feng Li walked into the formation, occasionally stopping before a stone statue, gazing at it for a full quarter hour or more at a time.

Torches burned continuously throughout the mausoleum, so the light inside was unaffected by the outside world.

But those inside knew that, by now, night had already fallen outside.

Han Ying truly could not bear it any longer and spoke up, for she couldn’t recall how many times now. “My lord, let’s go back.”

“My lord.” She strode over and caught hold of the hem of Feng Li’s robe.

Feng Li paid her no mind and instead went and sat down on the stone chair beside the golden coffin.

“My lord, this place isn’t meant for sitting. Let’s go back — you’ve been in here too long, I’m worried.”

Feng Li gazed at the coffin, his hand turning the prayer beads, and closed his eyes.

Han Ying stared at him fixedly for a good while, then flung her sleeve and turned to leave.

As she left the mausoleum, a female guard came forward to meet her.

“Your Highness, what’s the situation?”

“Notify His Majesty’s men — tonight, the mausoleum must be strictly guarded. No one is permitted to leave!” Han Ying gave a cold snort and strode forward.

“Yes!” The female guard immediately cupped her hands in acknowledgment.

Tonight, Her Highness would likely once again be left to guard an empty bed alone — no matter who it happened to, such a thing would be hard to bear.

Night grew deeper and deeper.

Inside the mausoleum, for a long stretch of time, only Feng Li and He Zhongnan remained.

“My lord.” He Zhongnan’s voice broke the stillness of the mausoleum.

“The time…” he lowered his voice as much as he could, “…has come.”

Feng Li lifted his eyelids slightly and asked in a low voice, “If, on that day, you had known this day would come…”

“My lord.” He Zhongnan knelt on the ground.

“This servant came for this very day. My lord, leave with your mind at ease — as long as my lord is safe, this servant will have no regrets in this life.”

“Before this servant dies, being able to do one more thing for my lord — that is more than Heaven owes this servant.”

Feng Li reached out and gently patted He Zhongnan’s shoulder, then stood. “Get up.”

He Zhongnan stood, looking at Feng Li, his eyes brimming with hot tears.

“My lord, after this, this servant will no longer be able to attend you. You must live well.”

Feng Li’s gaze flickered for a moment; he looked away and said nothing.

He Zhongnan pressed his lips together, turned, and walked outside.

Soon, he returned together with a guard from outside.

The guard knelt before Feng Li and cupped his hands. “My lord, what business do you have for this servant?”

No sooner had the guard finished speaking than He Zhongnan struck a blow to the back of his neck.

The guard collapsed to the ground before he could say another word.

Not long after, the guard who had just gone in pushed open the great door and left.

When the shift-change hour arrived, a group of guards came in and relieved those who had stood watch inside for the past twelve hours.

Everyone who came and went had passed rigorous screening, yet no one realized that one of the guards was wearing a human-skin mask.

Feng Jiu’er waited a long while deep within an alley before finally spotting a tall figure appear at its mouth.

The tall figure melted into the darkness, and in an instant, all trace of him vanished.

Han Ying returned to the Night Prince’s manor and drank through the entire night.

By the time dawn broke, she was informed that Feng Li had not returned all night, and she rushed off toward the mausoleum in a panic.

When Han Ying arrived outside the mausoleum, the Nation-Guarding Army was there, keeping watch in three layers, inside and out.

“The Night Prince didn’t leave all night?” Han Ying asked in a low voice, staring at the mausoleum’s entrance.

“He did not,” a general replied.

Han Ying’s brows knit, and she strode inside.

Behind her followed her five female guards.

The general waved a hand and brought several men along to follow after Han Ying.

Passing through checkpoint after checkpoint, Han Ying once again arrived before that great door.

The door opened, and she quickened her pace.

By now, inside the mausoleum, one person leaned against the stone chair while another knelt beside him.

Judging by the clothing, the one reclining was Feng Li, and the one kneeling was He Zhongnan.

But Han Ying could tell at a single glance that something was wrong.

The man she had loved for over twenty years — even from behind, even just a silhouette — she could recognize him.

Han Ying leapt down, skipping the steps entirely, dropping straight down.

She stood beside “Feng Li,” grabbed hold of him, and pulled him up.

At that very moment, He Zhongnan, dagger in hand, suddenly rose to his feet.

He summoned every last bit of strength he had, meaning to fight to the death against the person before him.

But before his dagger could even reach Han Ying, she sensed the killing intent and, without turning, swept her hand back with full force.

He Zhongnan was flung more than thirty feet away, slamming hard into the stone wall, coughing up blood as he collapsed to the ground.

“You… stop… dreaming.” He Zhongnan forced a faint smile, his voice weak.

“You don’t deserve… my lord, you don’t…”

Before he could finish speaking, a great mouthful of dark blood surged out, gushing without end.

He Zhongnan closed his eyes heavily, never again to see tomorrow’s sun.

“Ahh…” Han Ying stared at the unconscious guard dressed in Feng Li’s clothes, clenched her fists, and let out a scream toward the sky.

“Bang, bang, bang” — the sounds rang out through the mausoleum.

Han Ying’s inner force shattered stone statue after stone statue.

“Your Highness.”

“Your Highness.”

The guards who rushed over could not even get close to her.

At that moment, Han Ying’s eyes were shot through with red, and she looked like someone gone mad.

…

For three days and three nights, Feng Jiu’er and the others still hadn’t found a way to leave the capital.

With the Night Prince missing, the entire capital was in an uproar.

Feng Jin led the Imperial Guard, personally searching the capital house by house, under the pretense that the Night Prince had been abducted by treacherous rebels.

Anyone who dared to harbor such traitors and failed to hand over the Night Prince would, once discovered, be executed on the spot!

For a time, both inside and outside the capital fell into a state of panic.

How could the Night Prince, perfectly fine, suddenly be seized by treacherous rebels? Would the capital never know peace again from now on?

Inside the wellness pavilion, everything appeared normal.

Since they hadn’t managed to leave that night, Feng Jiu’er had brought Feng Li back to the wellness pavilion.

This place had a basement and secret tunnels, and had already evaded one search.

By evening, the wellness pavilion closed its doors as usual.

As the lanterns lit up the quiet streets of the capital, in truth, things were not nearly as peaceful as they appeared.

On no small number of streets, fully armed troops were still patrolling.