Nanmeng Rong stared, stunned. He had wanted her to leave first — after all, if she stayed, both of them would lose their chance.

Yet he had not expected that Feng Jiu’er would truly take him at his word and leave without a single glance back. Not even a trace of reluctance.

No matter what, he was her future husband…

Jiu’er really was leaving. She had barely risen to her feet when two streaks of silver appeared in her field of vision.

She ducked sharply to avoid them — only to find four more darts shooting straight at her from the front.

They were absolutely determined to kill her. Could it be the Empress’s people again?

But the Empress had only just persuaded the Emperor to grant her a marriage decree. She hadn’t even had time yet to enjoy watching her miserable future — why would she move to eliminate her now? Wouldn’t the decree have been entirely pointless?

If not the Empress, then who else?

In this imperial academy, who else wanted her dead?

Feng Jiu’er stepped aside to dodge — only for the person behind her to come lunging forward again.

“You go first. I’ll handle them.” The moment the poison had been cleared, Nanmeng Rong had already drawn his short blade, determined to protect her.

Feng Jiu’er had just managed to slash down two darts with a single strike. When she glanced back and saw him — unable to even stand steadily — still trying to shield her, something surged within her.

Not gratitude. Fury.

“Get back! I don’t need your protection!” As long as he stayed quietly behind the slope, nothing would happen to him.

But now he had come out with a body full of injuries. She had not only herself to protect — she had him to protect as well. Was this not exhausting enough?

“Didn’t you call me a venomous woman — ugly and wicked? So why are you helping me? Get away from me!” she snapped urgently.

Whoosh — two more darts flew. One was aimed directly at Nanmeng Rong. Feng Jiu’er blocked his — and was left with no way to fully evade her own.

A hiss of air — the dart grazed her arm, and in an instant, a searing, burning pain ignited across her skin.

“Damn it!” The dart was poisoned. Before she could even seal her own acupoints, the next volley was already upon her.

Seeing her injured, Nanmeng Rong ground his teeth against the residual toxin still working through his body and strode forward in long, forceful steps — planting himself squarely in front of her.

“I never said any such thing!” He truly did not like this wild and unreasonable girl — but who else was she, if not his future wife?

This was simply the way he was. Once he had decided on something, it was decided. No matter how much he disliked someone, once he had decided — he had decided.

“I’ll stay here. You go first — careful!”

A jolt of alarm shot through Nanmeng Rong. He moved to throw his body in front of the two darts heading for Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er drove a kick straight into him, sending him flying backward.

But she herself had no room left to dodge. Two darts buried themselves in her chest — not deeply embedded, yet the virulent poison instantly paralyzed her nerves.

In the moment she saw the black-clad men surging toward her, Feng Jiu’er felt something close to regret. Why had she saved that fool?

Yet if it happened again — she knew she would make the same choice.

As long as they were good people, she had never been able to watch and do nothing…

“She’s passed out.” One of the black-clad men caught her in his arms and cast a glance at the scars on her face, his expression laced with disgust. “Truly ugly.”

“Let’s move. Our master wants her!” said another black-clad man in a low, firm voice.

The first man lifted Feng Jiu’er and made to leave.

Not far off, Nanmeng Rong dragged himself upright. His voice came out hoarse and barely above a rasp. “Put her… down.”

But the poison had only just been cleared from his body, and Feng Jiu’er’s thoughtless kick had taken what little was left out of him. He could not even stand straight.

One of the black-clad men moved to strike — but was stopped by a sharp word from another. That man looked at Nanmeng Rong, who was struggling to lurch forward, and let out a cold, contemptuous laugh.

“Go back and tell Zhan Qingcheng — his woman is in our hands. Tell him to come to Black Wind Ridge at once. If he doesn’t arrive before nightfall, he can wait to collect what’s left of her.”