Feng Zhiwei hesitated, but only for an instant.
Then she moved forward.
Advancing three steps, her finger flicked. A dark gleam swept past with a snap, landing at the cave entrance concealed by vines, stirring lingering echoes in the deep, secluded cave.
“Who goes there!”
A furious shout immediately erupted. In the night, countless figures flew up from all directions, rushing straight toward the cave entrance.
The hidden sentries were startled, their attention uniformly turning toward the entrance. Feng Zhiwei didn’t hesitate—she retreated.
Her forward-moving body executed a flowing reversal on the spot. Her heel shifted and in the blink of an eye she had retreated three zhang. With another turn, she had already left the entrance.
Taking advantage of all the guards being drawn to the entrance, she moved backward. This was the most chaotic moment—the front manor guards single-mindedly rushed toward the entrance while the rear manor guards hadn’t yet received word. She moved through this gap, no longer needing to be too careful avoiding guards, rushing toward Jade Reflection Hall at maximum speed.
When she had nearly reached it, still two courtyards away, she pondered briefly and stopped, crouching down.
Sure enough, the moment her body lowered, overhead came the sound of robes carried by wind. The approaching figure’s silver robes carved a sharp arc across the dark blue firmament, from afar also like a streak of cold moonlight, sweeping past overhead.
The Golden Plume Guards Commander.
Feng Zhiwei silently breathed out. Startling the gate guards served multiple purposes—reminding Ning Cheng lurking outside the manor waiting to provide support, attracting hidden sentries so she could quickly return inside the manor. But the main objective was to lure this Golden Plume Guards Commander out of Jade Reflection Hall.
This person was like a silver-banded krait lurking in night’s grasses—he made her uneasy. Thinking of infiltrating Jade Reflection Hall again under such a person’s gaze, she instinctively sensed danger. Leaving Ning Yi beside this person to deal with the Second Prince also made her uneasy. From her understanding of this Commander’s profession, as long as he knew the front courtyard entrance had unusual activity, he would certainly go investigate personally.
As expected, the opponent fell for her luring-the-tiger-from-the-mountain stratagem.
Before Feng Zhiwei could finish her sigh of relief, mid-air the Golden Plume Guards Commander suddenly turned back.
He had clearly swept far away, no longer possibly able to discover Feng Zhiwei’s tracks. Yet at precisely that remote distance, he suddenly looked back.
Moonlight illuminated his face—stiff and expressionless, also mask-like, features all hidden in the light’s depths, like several bottomless holes.
Feng Zhiwei didn’t move. She didn’t deliberately suppress her breathing trying to hide, but rather restrained her presence and emptied her thoughts, completely natural in this spring night of sharp mountain winds.
She didn’t believe her tracks had been discovered.
She knew this was merely intuition honed by the Commander’s years of experience.
Some people, because they moved through darkness, were particularly acute, able to hear the voices in others’ hearts.
Under hazy moonlight, the Golden Plume Guards Commander stood motionless on the treetop, rising and falling on the slender tip. Moonlight was cut into ten thousand strips by branches, scattered across the road ahead.
After a long while, he slowly smoothed his robes. A trace of doubt flashed through his eyes. Then he turned and left.
His figure vanished like a meteor cast a thousand li in an instant.
Feng Zhiwei still didn’t move, didn’t even sigh with relief.
In less than a moment.
Wind sounded again.
The Commander who had just departed far away suddenly appeared again at the road’s end.
This time he stood on a small path among flowers, hawk-like eyes searching everywhere. Discovering still no movement, he silently departed.
Feng Zhiwei waited a while longer before rising from the ground.
That contest of patience and composure with the Golden Plume Guards Commander—at least she hadn’t lost.
Once standing, she no longer hesitated. Running a few steps along the road, seeing someone approaching ahead, she flashed behind a tree to hide.
With this hiding, she suddenly discovered behind the tree was a deep ravine. This manor was built following mountain terrain, precipices everywhere. If she climbed down along this tree now, crossed a narrow valley, the opposite side would be Jade Reflection Hall.
With Jade Reflection Hall’s design and position, climbing up from below the cliff was unthinkable. But the guest rooms arranged for visitors were on a protruding horizontal cliff above Jade Reflection Hall, connected to a mountain ridge on this side. One could climb up or scale down to eavesdrop.
Guards couldn’t be stationed there. Moreover, the cliff face was craggy, the mountain wall slippery. Between the two mountains, mountain winds were fierce—the slightest inattention would blow one down. Once discovered, the opponent could send one to death with a finger’s movement.
Additionally, near Jade Reflection Hall on the cliff walls were lamps. Anyone approaching could be seen at a glance.
Feng Zhiwei also only hesitated for an instant.
Then, light as a swan feather, she floated down from the tree. With a swoosh she slid to the bottom, her body already on the cliff.
One hand gripped the cliff wall. The other hand pulled from her hair bun a diamond-shaped jade hairpin. Her fingers exerted force. The outer layer of false jade cracked open, revealing a brilliantly gleaming small dagger.
She held the dagger in her teeth as she descended. Halfway down she stopped. There was a mountain gap, approximately one zhang distance. Leaping across, she could flip from behind the cliff to the manor’s resting guest rooms. She had secretly slipped away from there earlier.
Only this sounded simple but wasn’t easy to do. On the cliff wall, a lamp spun drippingly in the wind. Someone guarded before the lamp.
Feng Zhiwei pondered briefly. Extinguishing the lamp was easy, but would certainly alarm the guards. How to do this most properly?
Suddenly wind rose below the mountain cliff.
Feng Zhiwei immediately raised her hand. A broken tree branch shot up through the air, striking the lantern’s chain. It didn’t break the chain but carried a skillful force, making the lantern violently shake and spin, the candlelight trembling as if about to extinguish.
The two guards at the lamp had received orders tonight—the lamp mustn’t go out for even a moment. Seeing the lamp shaking badly, they hastily came forward to protect it. One laughed, “Tonight’s wind is so strong. Usually this lamp can’t be blown about.” The other said, “Afraid it’ll go out. First pull it up to protect it.”
The two leaned out to haul up the lamp hanging on the cliff wall.
The moment their bodies shifted and lamplight dimmed.
Feng Zhiwei tugged on cliff vines. Her body swung. Her robes carved through floating damp clouds on the iron-black cliff wall like a flash of lightning, traversing across empty space.
Merely lamplight dimming then brightening again.
She had already pressed against the opposite cliff wall.
Above the cliff, the two guards held the lamp. After this gust of wind passed, one suddenly leaned down the cliff, exclaiming “Eh,” saying, “Just now seemed to see some shadow flash?”
“Your eyes are playing tricks, right?” The other laughed. “Who’s courting death, daring to climb up from here?”
“Me.”
The clear, light answer startled both to trembling. Astonished, they turned around but saw nothing.
Through their minds instantly flashed phrases like “mountain spirits and ghosts!” This thought hadn’t fully materialized when suddenly they felt their throats tighten and turn cold.
Like on a winter day, a handful of snow abruptly stuffed down the throat.
Taking away all warmth from one’s entire life.
The two covered their throats, emitting gurgling sounds. Standing behind them, Feng Zhiwei coldly released the arms strangling their necks, carefully holding their back collars, not letting the corpses fall to the ground making sounds.
Then she rapidly stripped off one thinner guard’s outer garment to wear herself, continuing to prop the two corpses sitting at the cliff edge before the lamp, adjusting that lamp’s position.
The specially-made penetrating light reflected on the cliff wall above, interweaving with lamplight from Jade Reflection Hall’s scouting lamps at the top. The originally clear illumination actually began to blur.
Under the lamp was darkness.
Feng Zhiwei originally hadn’t planned to risk climbing this cliff to kill guards, but changed her mind upon seeing that lamp.
If lamplight was used incorrectly, it similarly couldn’t illuminate things.
This lamp guard position was a protruding broken cliff at mid-mountain, only accommodating two or three people. Usually lowered down in vine baskets—killing people wouldn’t be discovered immediately.
Feng Zhiwei continued scaling across the mountain ridge. From beneath strongly intersecting light in a pale misty haze, she also rose straight up like a wisp of pale mist.
She rapidly landed on the cliff where the guest rooms above Jade Reflection Hall were located. Here guards were also very strict, unfortunately all guarding the front gate. The cliff-backing side couldn’t be guarded.
Finding the room where she’d rested, the maid still dozed outside the door. The bedding roll she’d made still remained, looking like a person sleeping quietly. Feng Zhiwei quickly went over, tearing the bedsheet into long strips connecting together, tying them to the heavy bed legs. Testing the strength, feeling fortunate she wasn’t fat, she then tightly bound her hair, tied the rope around her right ankle, pushed open the rear window, and with an inverted flip, fell backward.
Her feather-light form opened a flowing arc in mid-air, like a mysterious night-blooming cereus quietly blooming in the deep blue night. Below, intersecting lamplight reached this place, creating a hazy moon-white mist. That flower bloomed within the mist and starlight, softly and freely unfurling.
Closing her eyes, mentally envisioning Jade Reflection Hall’s layout, Feng Zhiwei’s toe pointed, controlling the cloth rope’s falling length, stopping at a certain place.
Her back silently slid against the cliff wall. Slippery night dew soaked her clothes and hair.
Though this inverted leaning posture was very dangerous and passive, it was better than all four limbs clinging to rock. At least besides one foot, everything else was free.
From entrance to here, though sounding simple, any slight mishap anywhere would leave her without burial ground. Not until this moment did her constantly taut heart slightly relax a bit.
Because she heard Ning Yi’s voice.
“…Your Highness rest assured,” Ning Yi seemed to be professing loyalty. “…This matter—heaven knows, earth knows, you know, I know. From now on it’s buried in this official’s belly. Even my wife won’t hear a single word in her sleep talk…”
Feng Zhiwei listened quietly, lips blooming with a trace of smile.
Won’t hear sleep talk—don’t even sleep in the same bed.
Her mind suddenly flashed to that scene at the East Pool hot springs. Feng Zhiwei’s face reddened. She hastily gathered her composure, pressing her slightly heated cheeks against the cold cliff wall.
Truly remarkable of that fellow Ning Yi—clearly understanding nothing, yet still managing to maneuver with the Second Prince until now.
“Thanks to you, Zhiqiu.” The Second Prince seemed to sigh. “…Just some minor actions by old subordinates from Changning Principality’s side, actually blown up by local officials into a case of forest bandits gathering for rebellion. Fortunately you helped alter testimony and resolved several key figures… At the Court of Judicial Review… there won’t be problems, right?”
“Your Highness rest assured.” Ning Yi seemed to be thumping his chest, swearing with firm tone.
The Second Prince seemed to laugh lowly.
“Smack.”
A faint, barely audible sound.
“Ah—”
Ning Yi cried out in alarm.
On the cliff wall, Feng Zhiwei’s heart jumped.
“Your Highness… Your Highness… you—” Ning Yi’s voice came somewhat muffled, seemingly gasping urgently.
Feng Zhiwei’s fingers dug into the cliff wall. Expression unchanged, she lowered herself further down, already near this secret room of Jade Reflection Hall’s window.
The window was open. Through a bit of light above the window lattice, she could see shadows of people inside reflected on the wall.
Faintly the Second Prince sneered, advancing step by step, while Ning Yi covered his chest, retreating step by step.
“Me? Me what?” The Second Prince pointed at Ning Yi, sneering coldly. “I haven’t even asked you—whose man are you?”
Feng Zhiwei’s eyes flashed.
“Your Highness… what does this mean…” Ning Yi’s panicked voice came.
“Tonight you came—whose instructions did you receive?” The Second Prince advanced a step. “How did you run to the West Pool, then from West Pool to East Pool? How did you know the mechanism’s activation method? What were you going to do there?”
As expected… they still found out.
Feng Zhiwei narrowed her eyes, thinking the manor must have other intelligence channels. The Second Prince suspected this Lord Huang wasn’t from his camp, but didn’t suspect Lord Huang himself.
“This official… doesn’t understand… Your Highness’s meaning…” Ning Yi was pressed by the Second Prince, retreating to the window.
“You don’t need to understand.” The Second Prince sneered savagely. “This prince doesn’t want to understand you either. Regardless of whether this matter exists, you’re destined to die anyway…”
“Ah—”
A low cry of alarm. The window was slammed open with a bang. A figure tumbled out.
A figure tumbling down the cliff.
A posture of falling backward off the cliff.
Yet someone like wind swung down, lightning-fast extending a hand to catch.
Mid-air, two hands tightly grasped together.
Ning Yi, toe still hooked at the window edge, raised his head to see overhead a smiling face hanging inverted from the cliff.
That face, against the backdrop of starlight, moonlight and endless firmament, swooped down, instantly crashing into his vision. In that instant, the sky full of stars and mountain mist, and his entire being, all seemed condensed in those vast, rippling eyes, existing simultaneously with heaven and earth in that moment.
She was here waiting for him.
His eyes instantly lit with infinite radiance—surprise, worry, all sorts of indescribably complex emotions. Yet in that instant of meeting gazes face to face, they were only for her to understand.
Then he also smiled, releasing his toe hooked at the window.
Originally planning to use Second Brother’s attack to borrow momentum to flip out the window and play dead, his toe had been hooked at the window edge all along. Now he decisively released.
Now only one hand was in her hand.
As long as she released her hand, he would irretrievably fall into the ten-thousand-zhang abyss.
He finally in this moment entrusted himself to her.
His toe released. His body tilted. Feng Zhiwei’s hand grew heavy. The silk rope dropped down.
In an instant, in her vast, rippling eyes, something flashed past very quickly.
Ning Yi kept his head raised watching her. This look made his heart tighten.
Yet instantly she returned to normal. Her hand tightened, gripping his hand even more forcefully.
Fingers interlocked, deeply clasped. Feng Zhiwei’s hand and Ning Yi’s waist simultaneously exerted force. On the silk rope they flipped upward, tightly gripping the rope.
While flipping up, Ning Yi kicked the cliff wall, dislodging a loose stone barely hanging on.
The loose stone thunderously fell down, in the extremely deep abyss below emitting hollow echoes, sounding exactly like a person falling.
With a creak, the window swung wide. The Second Prince stuck his head out, somewhat regretfully looking down. Below was vast sea of clouds—nothing could be seen clearly.
He looked at the cliff bottom with some regret, saying lowly, “This fellow was truly fragile. I merely wanted to first frighten him to extract his master before killing. He actually got scared and lost his footing… pity couldn’t extract anything.”
He didn’t look up at all, withdrawing his body, slamming the window shut with a bang.
On the cliff wall, the two tightly embracing simultaneously curled their lips in smiles.
Feng Zhiwei mouthed to Ning Yi, asking, “Are you alright?”
Ning Yi didn’t answer, looking at her tenderly. His usually cold gaze bloomed with slight tenderness, rippling with starlight, intoxicating the moon.
He suddenly extended a finger, carefully and meticulously wiping away the night dew and mud on her face from tightly pressing against the wall descending.
The mountain wall was craggy. Friction had already torn holes in the mask, fortunately not injuring her skin.
Feng Zhiwei somewhat unnaturally avoided his gaze, pointing up the cliff, indicating they flip up. Ning Yi shook his head.
Feng Zhiwei froze, then understood his meaning. Since Lord Huang had been “silenced,” Lady Huang naturally couldn’t be allowed to leave alive either. Now Lady Huang’s resting guest room was already very dangerous.
The two exchanged glances. Feng Zhiwei suddenly opened her mouth, softly saying in his ear, “Changning envoy.”
Ning Yi’s eyes showed approving smile. Nodding, he raised his chin, pointing toward the cliff’s other side.
Feng Zhiwei knew his meaning—the Changning Principality envoy was over there. That envoy couldn’t handle alcohol and had gone to rest earlier. Moreover, this person had no martial arts.
The two were now pressed against the cliff wall. Ning Yi’s back against the mountain wall, one hand gripping the wall, foot planted on a protruding rock. Feng Zhiwei’s back pressed his chest, tightly embraced in his arms. Mountain wind billowed their robes. Dark hair interwove and danced. Below them was a ten-thousand-ren sea of clouds. Above, ten thousand qing of blue sky. Vast distant mountains rushed into view. The vast territory galloped as far as the eye could see. In the distant azure horizon, faintly appeared a line of pale blue dawn, boundlessly extending outward.
Between heaven and earth like Mount Sumeru, humans like mustard seeds.
Extremely small, extremely vast.
Extremely dangerous, extremely expansive.
Though knowing this wasn’t the moment to be entranced, both were still slightly dazed by this magnificently broad scene they’d likely never encounter again in this lifetime. Wind rushed from secluded depths, cleansing and howling, sweeping into their hearts. Both seemed to simultaneously hear the long, vast sighs from each other’s innermost depths.
Rivers and mountains so charming, yet won’t grow old with people.
After a long while, Feng Zhiwei sighed lightly. Her slightly damp lashes—whether with dew or something else—blinked, shedding crystalline drops.
Ning Yi held her tighter. His chin rubbed against her silky hair, eyes hazy.
Feng Zhiwei smiled. Raising her hand, the dagger in her hand flashed brilliantly, cutting that section of silk rope. Then the dagger stabbed into the mountain wall. Her body flipped onto the dagger, climbing toward the Changning envoy’s room.
Ning Yi followed close behind, protecting below her.
The two quickly climbed to the rear window below that room. Shuyu Manor pursued expansive naturalness. The envoy’s room had large horizontal windows at the back. Though all closed, they couldn’t stop these two. Feng Zhiwei pressed against the cliff wall, using the dagger to pry the window’s latch.
Suddenly felt warmth at her leg bend. Looking down she saw Ning Yi embracing her leg bend. Seeing her look down, he also raised his face, revealing a faint smile.
Tonight his smile, unlike usual days’ rippling or romantic coolness, was rarely clean and warm, leaping with slight heat, like a bit of deep red spark in eternal night—distant, yet so truly warming.
Feng Zhiwei froze in such a gaze. Suddenly recalled that year—also a cliff wall, not as high as this, not as cold, not as dangerous. Someone had also gently embraced another’s leg bend, promising to be that person’s eyes.
That time downward, this time upward. That time she embraced him, this time he embraced her.
The heat from Ning Yi’s palm penetrated through, seeming to reach deep into bone and flesh. She trembled. For an instant, that year’s night rain at the mountain temple flashed before her eyes.
Years ago listening to night rain at the mountain temple, whose robe corner’s fallen flowers got wet?
Feng Zhiwei withdrew her gaze, lowering her lashes.
An extremely faint “click”—the window latch was pried open.
Silently pushing open the window, shoulder hunching, Ning Yi raised his hand sending her up. Feng Zhiwei swept in like green smoke.
Upon landing she rushed straight at the bed. Blue light flashed in her hand, already thrusting out.
Behind her, footsteps landed softly. Ning Yi had also rushed in.
Amid fierce wind sounds, Feng Zhiwei’s palm controlled toward that person’s throat. Her body was light, her lightness skill even superior to Ning Yi’s. This full-force lunge instantly reached before that person.
The opponent had no martial arts but was startled by wind sounds, alarmed as they threw off bedding and rose.
In darkness, strange light flashed.
Seemed both bright and dim pale silver light.
Feng Zhiwei’s eye corner glimpsed, her heart thundering, inwardly crying trouble. Yet the move was already committed and couldn’t be recalled. In extreme haste she only managed to kick a stool out, blocking Ning Yi rushing after.
Silver light flashed. Her extended hand hurt, as if gripped by pincers. Then her body tilted, already viciously yanked over by a great force.
Then a pair of ice-cold fingers, coldly and swiftly, decisively, lightly settled on her throat.
Feng Zhiwei smiled bitterly.
Originally wanting to make her fingers into others’ chopping board, the result turned out herself becoming the fish meat.
That person behind her had cold breath, like a silver-banded krait hidden in moonlight’s shadows.
His movements were slow yet precise as he sat up. His sitting posture had no gaps or blind spots. Not only could Feng Zhiwei find no opening, even Ning Yi, discovering things were wrong, could only stop.
“Click.”
That person behind lit a fire striker.
Firelight illuminated brilliantly flickering silver light, not feeling bright, only feeling like flowing mysterious eyes.
Golden Plume Guards Commander.
Feng Zhiwei smiled helplessly—she had still underestimated this court’s foremost expert at lurking and disguise. To occupy this position for many years—how could he be easy to deal with? He’d likely long since detected the luring-the-tiger-from-the-mountain stratagem. Unable to find them temporarily, yet certain they were in the manor. Right now to exit the manor, only by taking hostage that extremely important yet martially defenseless Changning Principality envoy. So this gentleman didn’t search anywhere, saving effort—staying here waiting like a hunter by a tree stump.
Thinking about it truly made one vomit blood. All the way through terrors, seeing success within reach, yet foundering at this person’s hands.
That person behind slowly bloomed a trace of smile, speaking for the first time tonight. His voice also seemed, from not often speaking, to show grinding hoarseness.
“I’ve been waiting for you both a long time.”