“I know you want to draw the Ninth Prince out. But if you have no wish to harm him, then you will have to do it my way. Otherwise, with so many people in the court out for the Ninth Prince’s life, if you make too much commotion, the moment he appears it will be a dead end for him.”

Feng Jiu’er said this as if it were entirely none of her concern: “I don’t particularly care myself — but I’m afraid that if something happens to the Ninth Prince, you won’t be granting me my wish either.”

“You do have some self-awareness, at least.” Nanmen Rong gave a cold scoff. “Fine. If you want to be Crown Princess, this palace agrees.”

“Then first, have His Majesty issue a decree dissolving my betrothal to Nanmen Xu.” Feng Jiu’er said at once.

“You are that eager to be rid of Nanmen Xu?”

“Young Master Xu has no power and no standing within the Nanmen clan — no position whatsoever. That was precisely why Lady Consort Rong arranged this match for me in the first place, was it not?”

Jiu’er’s tone carried a trace of lingering grievance. “If this betrothal is not dissolved, how am I to marry His Highness the Crown Prince?”

Nanmen Rong continued to watch her, uncertain whether to believe her or not.

Feng Jiu’er paid it no mind, as if she were perfectly certain that Nanmen Rong would come around — she said lightly: “You still have time to think it over. I’m not in any rush — a matter like a royal decree of marriage isn’t something that can be settled in a day or two.”

“Truly not in any rush?” Nanmen Rong’s gaze deepened.

Jiu’er sat on the floor, calmly steadying her breathing. “I’m not in any rush. But whether Lady Consort Rong is equally unhurried — that, I cannot say.”

Nanmen Rong was indeed in a desperate hurry. As Feng Jiu’er had said, a matter of a marriage decree was not something that could be accomplished quickly — but A’Jiu could not hold out that long out there.

The situation outside was already in complete chaos. Could she really allow A’Jiu to remain in hiding indefinitely?

With A’Jiu’s temperament, he would not hide away forever. Why he was still in hiding now, she did not know — perhaps because he had been injured…

But he would emerge eventually. He was far too proud a man. For him to stay hidden even for a short while was already asking a great deal.

If he truly was injured and came out regardless, and her father’s people encountered him — they would show him no mercy.

A’Jiu was in dire straits right now. How could this wait?

“Do you truly intend to tell this palace A’Jiu’s whereabouts?” Nanmen Rong narrowed her eyes again, studying her carefully once more.

Jiu’er gave a dismissive little sound, not even sparing her a glance. “I told you — I don’t know where the Ninth Prince is right now. But I may have a way to draw him out.”

“Your so-called method is nothing more than using the fact that A’Jiu cares about you, is it not?” The very thought made Nanmen Rong feel deeply vexed.

“That, Lady Consort Rong need not concern herself with. The point is, I have a way to help you find him.”

She thought for a moment, then added with a small smile: “But Lady Consort Rong should not think too long on it. I was sent here tonight, and I suspect it was because someone wants to use the Nanmen clan as a tool — to use me against the Ninth Prince.”

“If Lady Consort Rong delays too long, that person may well let word spread that I am here. And if I end up in your father’s hands, the Ninth Prince would truly be in grave danger.”

“Don’t try to frighten this palace!” Even as she said the words, Nanmen Rong had already taken Feng Jiu’er’s warning to heart.

She cared — how could she not?

Feng Jiu’er said nothing further, simply watching her wear that conflicted expression, savoring it with quiet attention.

Nanmen Rong had the distinct feeling of being watched as if she were a spectacle — like a clown performing for an audience. But she could not afford to gamble. Because in her heart, Feng Jiu’er was exactly the kind of person capable of making this all go wrong.

The matron suddenly leaned down and murmured something into Nanmen Rong’s ear, and at last, Nanmen Rong’s furrowed brow slowly eased.

“Do you truly want to be Crown Princess?” She stared fixedly at Feng Jiu’er.

Something gave a faint flutter in Jiu’er’s chest. She knew Nanmen Rong almost certainly had some other scheme in mind — but by now, she no longer had any room to choose.

It was simply a question of who could hold their composure to the very end. Whoever broke first would lose.

And so, even though Jiu’er’s thoughts surged like a tide within her, not a ripple showed on her face — cool, steady, with even a hint of nonchalance.

“If you wanted to make me Empress, I wouldn’t mind either. Though that would have to wait for the Crown Prince to ascend the throne first. As for this old Emperor right now — he’s old and plain-looking, and I don’t have Lady Consort Rong’s strong constitution for such things, so naturally I could not stomach it.”

Nanmen Rong shot her a fierce glare, but at this moment she had no desire to trade barbs.

“Very well. Since you wish to be Crown Princess, you have made up your mind to belong to my Heng’er. In that case, this palace will make it happen right now!”

Make it happen right now — what did that mean?

The matron gave her the answer at once, summoning two guards who escorted Feng Jiu’er away.

Jiu’er was brought to Yuyang Hall. Zhan Yuheng had been on the verge of retiring for the night when Qingyun came bursting in, flustered: “Your Highness — Lady Consort Rong’s people have… have brought Miss Jiu’er here.”

“What?” Zhan Yuheng’s heart lurched. He sat up in bed at once.

Outside, Matron Qin’s voice came through in soft, drawn-out tones: “Your Highness, this servant has brought Miss Feng to you.”

“Send her in.” Zhan Yuheng threw on his outer robe carelessly. He had not even made it out of the inner chamber before Matron Qin had already directed the guards to escort Jiu’er inside.

“What is the meaning of this? Untie her at once!” Seeing Jiu’er bound like that, Zhan Yuheng’s brows drew sharply together in displeasure.

But Matron Qin said, “Your Highness, this is My Lady’s wish. Miss Feng said she wished to be with Your Highness, and My Lady has sent this servant to deliver Miss Feng here — so that Your Highness and Miss Feng may consummate their union.”

“What?” This time, the astonishment was not Zhan Yuheng’s alone — Feng Jiu’er was equally stunned.

Nanmen Rong, worried and unconvinced, intended to have her and Zhan Yuheng… take things further right away?

That wretched Nanmen Rong — she truly was devious. If nothing happened between her and Zhan Yuheng tonight, Nanmen Rong would never believe she had truly given up on the Ninth Imperial Uncle and wanted to be the Crown Princess — was that it?

She was so meticulous in everything she did. She was genuinely difficult to handle.

Feng Jiu’er lifted her gaze to Zhan Yuheng — and to her surprise, his face was flushed scarlet, his eyes fixed on her without blinking.

Something dropped heavily in Jiu’er’s chest. A wave of unease rose within her. The way this Crown Prince was looking at her — it was as though he had been given an aphrodisiac.

So naked in its intensity. So… full of desire.

“But I… His Highness and I are not yet wed. What if afterward… what if His Highness no longer wants me…”

“Jiu’er — how could I not want you?” Zhan Yuheng was jolted by her words, and in an instant stepped forward with barely contained excitement, personally undoing the ropes that bound her.

“Jiu’er, do you truly wish to be with me?”

With Matron Qin watching from the sidelines, Feng Jiu’er had no choice but to bite her lip and give a small nod.

“Wonderful!” Zhan Yuheng could barely contain himself with delight. He scooped her up in his arms. “Someone — bring hot water and fresh clothes for Miss Jiu’er to bathe and change!”

Every last bit of warmth drained from Feng Jiu’er’s heart.

She was well and truly on the back of a tiger now — caught between two impossible paths, with no way forward and no way back.