“Come, take your medicine.”

“Oh… hey, Ning Yi, look!”

“No need to look. Ning Cheng won’t appear, Yan Huaishi hasn’t come over, the assassin doesn’t exist at all, the child in Hua Qiong’s belly is fine… I’m telling you, Feng Zhiwei, you’ve played this trick to death. Don’t think you can divert my attention again—take your medicine.”

“Oh.”

A certain someone whose attempt at trickery had been exposed obediently reached for the medicine bowl.

“I’ll feed you.” Ning Yi pulled back. “Otherwise who knows what tricks you’ll play.”

“You’re not convenient. Why bother feeding me?” Feng Zhiwei dodged. “I’m afraid you’ll feed it up my nose.”

“I can see you.” Ning Yi’s answer was simple, yet seemed to hold deeper meaning.

Feng Zhiwei fell silent, her eyebrows drooping. She wasn’t a willful child—naturally she knew good medicine tastes bitter. It was just that this medicine was too terrifying. Even child’s urine would probably taste better. She’d drunk it for many days now. Not only had she not gotten used to it, but she grew more fearful with each dose.

The crisp sound of cup and silver spoon clinking rang out. Ning Yi sat before her couch, his expression serene. The medicine in the silver spoon was not only terrifying in taste but aggressive in smell. He seemed not to notice, even deliberately sniffing it near his own lips before precisely delivering it to her mouth.

Feng Zhiwei watched him through the curling steam—his eyes that had once flickered with light were now somewhat dim. Her heart felt blocked. Before she knew it, she’d swallowed a mouthful of medicine.

All around was very quiet. On the roof came tiny, mouse-like sounds—that was Young Master Gu eating walnuts. It sounded quite peaceful.

Persistently feeding her the entire bowl of medicine, Feng Zhiwei exhaled a long breath. Before she could open her mouth, a snow-white handkerchief had already gently pressed against the corner of her lips. “Don’t move.”

Wiping clean the medicine residue at her lips, Feng Zhiwei opened her mouth again. This time something sweet was placed in it.

“Nine-candied plums from Longxi,” Ning Yi seemed to be eating one himself. “I think they’re quite good.”

“Being treated like a child.” Feng Zhiwei smiled. “When I was actually a child and got sick, I didn’t have this treatment.”

“Then I’ll make it up to you now.” Ning Yi smiled, stroking her hair. “Double.”

Feng Zhiwei’s heart trembled again. She turned her gaze away, looking at the autumn scenery outside the window. “The weather is nice today.”

“Let’s sit outside for a bit, get some fresh air.”

Young Master Gu floated down, grabbing the patient with one hand and the soft couch with the other, delivering them outside without troubling His Highness. His Highness, who had wanted to embrace his fragrant beauty, followed with somewhat sullen anger.

Young Master Gu clumsily and awkwardly laid out the soft couch for Feng Zhiwei, placed her on it, then whoosh whoosh whoosh piled on three layers of blankets. Feng Zhiwei, buried under thick blankets with only her eyes showing, struggled with difficulty to thank him.

Young Master Gu, satisfied, returned to the roof to continue eating walnuts. Feng Zhiwei pleaded with Ning Yi for rescue. “Quick… I’m being crushed to death.”

Ning Yi smiled and removed two layers of blankets, rearranging the messily spread bedding for her. Somewhat smugly, he said, “You see, you still can’t do without me.”

So narcissistic. Feng Zhiwei wouldn’t admit it. “Only temporarily.”

“Temporary is fine too,” Ning Yi sat beside her. “I just hate how strong-willed you are.”

Feng Zhiwei fell silent. The two sat quietly. Autumn colors had deepened. Throughout the garden were deep and shallow shades of red maples interspersed with various chrysanthemums in pale purple and bright yellow—gorgeous yet desolate. The sky stretched very high and distant. Occasionally northern geese flew south, their pale black wings tracing white arcs, scattering a cloud.

One sitting, one reclining, they shared each other’s tranquility in the peaceful autumn scene, listening to flower petals rustling down from branches, listening to birds’ wings brushing dew-laden grass tips, listening to crystalline water drops falling from broken lotus leaves. Seeing or not seeing wasn’t so important. The scenery was in the heart. The person was in the heart.

The quiet lasted a long time, until distant faint scattered sounds approached—footsteps hurrying toward the courtyard. Feng Zhiwei raised her head and slowly smiled.

“Take care,” she said.

Ning Yi slowly leaned down. His slightly warm breath brushed by her ear. Feng Zhiwei didn’t avoid it. She felt his lips finally press against her ear—moist and soft, as gentle as his tone. “Wait for me.”

Feng Zhiwei remained silently unresponsive. He gently bit her earlobe with just the right pressure—a bit painful, a bit itchy, yet the pain and itch seemed not to be in the earlobe.

His gorgeous yet cool breath enveloped her like autumn clouds, leisurely and distant. His gaze was like a drifting boat, wanting to carry someone’s heart across the shores of separation.

She didn’t speak, so he didn’t relent. Low breathing sounded by her ear, light and shallow, as if afraid to alarm her current fragility. Yet that nibbling carried a hint of persistent force. Feng Zhiwei laughed with slight breathlessness. After a long while she said, “Of course I’ll wait to return to the capital with you.”

She raised her hand and naturally stroked Ning Yi’s chin. She touched some stubble. With a smile, she gently plucked it away, earning his low laughter. Her eyes flowed with light as she said charmingly, “I’m memorizing your features now. When the time comes, if I find you’ve lost weight, I won’t forgive you.”

“How will you not forgive me?” Ning Yi’s laughter carried faint pleasure.

“I’ll kill you. Be at odds with you forever.” Feng Zhiwei answered softly.

“Good. Wait to check.” He bit once more with moderate force, then released her. His smile carried a few more points of ambiguity. “Check however you want. Never mind the face—anywhere… is fine.”

Feng Zhiwei withdrew her hand and gave him a look, thinking he couldn’t see anyway—helpless. She secretly touched her own earlobe. Had he bitten it red, or had she herself turned red?

“Take that child with you,” she said. “When I initially saved him, I was thinking maybe he could help with your eyes. I didn’t expect he’d end up being used for me. Also that famous physician—see if you should take him along too to think of solutions together.”

“That’s your famous physician.” Ning Yi’s tone suddenly became somewhat distant. “He won’t submit to my command.”

Feng Zhiwei looked somewhat surprised in Gu Nanyi’s direction. Indeed, that famous physician was very mysterious. Until now she hadn’t met him. Gu Nanyi never mentioned this person. If not for others informing her, she wouldn’t even know he existed.

She didn’t ask further, changing the subject. “When you go there, pay attention. Those experts who ambushed us in Longxi—their leader’s left shoulder was once injured by me. The officialdom there must be controlled even more ruthlessly by the Chang family. You must be extremely careful.”

“Guard Nanhai well so it doesn’t become the Chang family’s retreat, and there’ll be no more worries.” Ning Yi said. “You trust me, and I trust you can guard it well.”

“I’m still waiting to return to the capital with you.” Feng Zhiwei smiled and pushed him. “Go on.”

Ning Yi gently squeezed her palm, smiled, then resolutely turned away.

In the distance, Ning Cheng followed. He’d been sitting cross-legged on the rock garden earlier, watching in this direction with a strange gaze—somewhat empty, somewhat cool, somewhat hesitant, somewhat uneasy.

The two figures passed through layers of maple red, gradually disappearing.

Just outside the garden, the Nanhai Provincial Administration Commissioner and other officials waited for Prince Chu’s carriage.

And farther beyond the city, the Nanhai General led one hundred thousand Nanhai border troops, waiting among wind-whipped banners and a sea of spear tips for the arrival of the Southern Expedition Commander.

Just yesterday.

Minnan General Chang Minjian had raised a rebellion, proclaiming the Fifth Prince as emperor, leading one hundred fifty thousand troops from Qiaoguan County in Minnan, killing the County Magistrate Fang De as a sacrifice, his military vanguard sweeping five consecutive counties.

The court urgently deployed frontline border troops, pushing the forces of Cao Kebing and Kong Shiliang stationed in Longnan Circuit westward, deploying one hundred thousand Nanhai border troops along the southern line, with Minnan Circuit Imperial Commissioner and Prince Chu Ning Yi as commander-in-chief to engage the rebel army.

Long after Ning Yi’s figure disappeared, Feng Zhiwei finally withdrew her gaze, lowered her lashes, and rubbed her somewhat aching legs with a smile.

This illness had come on fiercely, causing great damage to her body. Recovery would take a long time. The one thing she found somewhat strange was that the scorching airflow in her body seemed even more substantial than before, yet wasn’t as burning and tormenting as it used to be. Instead, it seemed to be gradually stabilizing within her dantian.

Walking along the edge of life and death—perhaps blessing in disguise after all, she thought.

Outside the garden, footsteps sounded again. One person’s steps were particularly light and crisp. Feng Zhiwei smiled with narrowed eyes. It must be Hua Qiong.

Indeed. Soon Hua Qiong appeared before her with an agility inappropriate for a pregnant woman, turning around the corridor. Beside her was Yan Huaishi’s mother, Chen Shi. Behind them, a maid carried fresh pomegranates. Hua Qiong picked one up and smiled as she showed it to her.

Feng Zhiwei smiled as she watched her. She very much liked Hua Qiong—not only because of the shock this woman had given her at their first meeting, but also because of the brightness and intelligence beyond others that Hua Qiong had displayed during this period of contact. She was bright but not indulgent. Her daring actions also contained delicacy in considering others. She could be ruthless when needed but also restrain herself when appropriate. Truly a talent.

“Are you feeling better today?” Hua Qiong came daily. Yan Huaishi had taken on the Maritime Bureau establishment affairs and was frantically busy. As his wife, she was responsible for expressing concern. This woman didn’t stick to empty formalities. Feng Zhiwei and Ning Yi had long ago exempted her from the tedious notification and greeting ceremonies.

“Like this weather—quite good.” Feng Zhiwei watched her carefully peel out bright red, plump pomegranate seeds, each one tiny and crystalline. Her gaze swept toward the roof. Hua Qiong immediately understood and tossed one up. Young Master Gu caught it and instantly tossed it back—not a walnut, don’t want it.

Hua Qiong casually peeled that pomegranate for herself to eat, smiling radiantly.

Chen Shi was always proper and correct. She greeted Feng Zhiwei. Seeing Hua Qiong eating first herself, she couldn’t help frowning and scolding, “Qiong’er! Mind your manners!”

Hua Qiong smiled. Feng Zhiwei already hurried to say, “No harm. Madam Yan is with child. We mustn’t mistreat someone carrying two lives.”

She smoothed things over, but Chen Shi didn’t smile. Her gaze swept across Hua Qiong’s abdomen, her eyebrows furrowing imperceptibly.

The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law sat far apart—one with upright posture, one completely casual. Their conversational tone was also somewhat distant, completely lacking the warmth and gratitude one would imagine.

When Yan family ancestral hall faced life and death, Hua Qiong had broken free from the Yan family’s custody and traveled barefoot over ten li to rescue them, not hesitating to spill blood before the ancestral hall entrance to open its doors. Such heavy gratitude—any other family would worship her like a bodhisattva. How could Chen Shi have this attitude?

Feng Zhiwei’s gaze fell on Hua Qiong’s abdomen. A doubt that had existed in her heart for a long time surfaced again. But with her current status, there was no way she could ask.

After Chen Shi made her routine inquiries, she prepared to leave. She gave Hua Qiong a look. Hua Qiong smiled. “Mother, you go ahead. I’ll tidy Lord Wei’s desk before coming.”

Chen Shi wanted to speak but hesitated. She still bid Feng Zhiwei farewell and left. Feng Zhiwei smiled and turned toward Hua Qiong.

Hua Qiong glanced at her, unhurriedly finishing the pomegranate, then instructed the maid, “Not bad, delicious. Go get some more.”

The maid left. Feng Zhiwei’s gaze fell on the plate where over ten pomegranates remained—couldn’t possibly finish them. Why would they need more? Clearly this woman, sharp as ice and snow, wanted to say something to her.

“Lord Wei, whatever you want to ask, just ask.” Hua Qiong sat beside her, casually tossing her hair.

Feng Zhiwei used her gaze to express her question about Hua Qiong’s abdomen.

Hua Qiong’s belly wasn’t very large—about five or six months along. However, five or six months ago, Yan Huaishi was still in the Imperial Capital and hadn’t returned to Nanhai at all.

Looking down at her belly, Hua Qiong smiled and once again spoke earth-shatteringly. “You guessed correctly. This child truly isn’t Huaishi’s.”

Feng Zhiwei coughed violently. Even having guessed it, suddenly hearing such a frank statement was still shocking.

Hua Qiong immediately reached over to gently pat her back. Feng Zhiwei froze again. Hua Qiong had already withdrawn her hand.

She gently stroked her abdomen, her smile faint, finally showing some sorrow in her eyes. “I’m a country woman. My father once served as a county magistrate, then resigned and returned to his hometown, opening a private school. My family’s school was near the nunnery where Huaishi’s mother stayed. She was much bullied at the nunnery. My father and I pitied her and often gave her assistance. Huaishi and I became acquainted from childhood because of this.”

Ah, the story of an unappreciated wealthy family son and a poor family’s daughter.

“Don’t think it’s some childhood sweethearts story.” Hua Qiong’s words were shocking again. “Huaishi doesn’t like me.”

Feng Zhiwei nearly sprayed tea onto the bedding.

“Even if he married me.” Hua Qiong bit pomegranate seeds slowly, saying lightly, “Chen Shi is a typical great family woman. Though she was grateful to my family, she couldn’t possibly appreciate a wild girl like me. Huaishi was influenced by his mother—he had no romantic feelings for me, only gratitude to my family for caring for them. He got along well with me. In outsiders’ eyes, we looked like a pair.”

“The year Father died, he held my hand and said, ‘Different stations make poor matches. Don’t marry into the Yan family, or you’ll suffer greatly in future.’ I listened to him and became the first female private school teacher, marrying a failed scholar from my own village.”

“The scholar was frail. Not long after marriage, he was bedridden with illness. I nursed him for over a year, but he still passed. Because of this, I gained the reputation of cursing my husband to death.”

“Then this child…”

“The scholar’s,” Hua Qiong said. “A posthumous child.”

Feng Zhiwei sucked in a breath, thinking of how righteous and imposing Hua Qiong had been that day at the ancestral hall, how full of killing intent. Anyone who saw that expression and bearing wouldn’t doubt that Yan Changtian wasn’t surnamed Yan.

Yan Changtian truly wasn’t surnamed Yan…

She had actually run to knock on the first family’s ancestral hall carrying someone else’s child, claiming without changing expression that this was their eldest branch’s eldest grandson who wanted to enter, and used this fake seed to save two lives, indirectly causing changes to the Yan family and the entire Nanhai situation.

For the first time in Feng Zhiwei’s life, she felt admiration for someone of the same sex.

But there was still one problem—something wasn’t quite right.

“Huaishi hasn’t been in Nanhai recently. The Yan family also knew this. Why didn’t they raise objections at the time?”

“On one hand, they were intimidated by your siege and my momentum at that moment, forgetting to calculate the dates,” Hua Qiong said. “On the other hand, after hearing the Imperial Commissioner would arrive in Nanhai Circuit to establish the Maritime Bureau and Huaishi would very likely become Chief Director, I knew the Yan family would never let him go. So I once spread word that Huaishi had secretly returned to Nanhai recently to see me.”

“Why?”

“This child is posthumous,” Hua Qiong said, gently stroking her abdomen, her face full of the radiance of imminent motherhood. “No one knows the scholar left me with child. I thought Huaishi’s birth status was his greatest weakness. Before, when Huaishi posed no threat, the Yan family didn’t take him seriously and wouldn’t touch him. But once Huaishi emerged, the Yan family would sooner or later use this matter to expel him. For a Yan family that always valued descendants, nothing would be more useful as a shield than an eldest branch eldest grandson!”

Feng Zhiwei stared blankly at Hua Qiong.

This woman was even more intelligent than she’d imagined—far-sighted with valleys and peaks in her heart. Based purely on speculation, she had made this tremendously impactful yet utterly correct decision so early.

Behind her open smile lay meticulous and brave thoughts.

“You…” After a long while, Feng Zhiwei finally asked, “Love him, don’t you?”

Without deep love penetrating to the bone, she could never achieve this.

Hua Qiong’s smile dimmed slightly upon first hearing this question, but quickly lifted again. Brightly she said, “Yes.”

She answered decisively, yet those two words contained depths that made Feng Zhiwei ponder.

Knowing her beloved’s heart held no place for her.

Knowing her mother-in-law didn’t accept her.

Knowing that doing this would make the world mock her for climbing up the social ladder, greedy and opportunistic.

Yet not hesitating to damage her reputation, harm her body, tell a tremendously weighty lie before ten thousand people, all to save her beloved’s life.

Only now did Feng Zhiwei truly understand her courage.

Originally thinking mutual affection, proposing marriage in person would naturally be a sure thing.

Yet she had actually carried a heart full of unease, completely uncertain as she proposed marriage at the ancestral hall entrance. Once Yan Huaishi said “no,” what awaited her would be the Yan family’s merciless retaliation—causing trouble as an outsider before the ancestral hall, beaten to death without consequence.

“Now you’ve achieved a happy ending after all.” She smiled with a trace of relief, looking at her with comfort. “From now on you’re the Yan family head’s wife. No one can look down on you anymore.”

“No.”

Feng Zhiwei, who was about to drink tea, nearly dropped her cup again. Hua Qiong caught it.

“Auntie, can you please stop shocking me every time?” Feng Zhiwei smiled bitterly.

But Hua Qiong set down the teacup and grabbed her hand. “Take me with you!”

Feng Zhiwei stared blankly up at her, then stared blankly at her hand grasping her own. If not certain Hua Qiong wouldn’t fall in love with her, she’d almost think this was a second Shaoning with misplaced affection.

“Madam Yan…” She indicated their clasped hands, reminding her this was improper.

But Hua Qiong wouldn’t let go, her bright eyes fixed intently on her.

“You know I’m…” Feng Zhiwei was somewhat puzzled. Her mask was extremely delicate. Her disguise as a man was very skillful. How did this woman see through it?

“His Highness’s gaze when he looks at you.” Hua Qiong smiled. “I’ve been through this. I understand.”

Feng Zhiwei was silent for a long while, not expecting the flaw to be with Ning Yi. Fortunately, people as outwardly bold yet inwardly intelligent and meticulous as Hua Qiong were rare. Even fewer people understood feelings as she did. No need to worry too much.

Then she said resentfully, “Actually His Highness has the cut-sleeve inclination.”

Hua Qiong laughed heartily, her laughter clear and bright. “You’re truly contrary… Someone like His Highness—how could he possibly have the cut-sleeve inclination?”

“What kind of person is he?” Feng Zhiwei suddenly wanted to know what Ning Yi was like in others’ eyes.

“His Highness is not a promiscuous person. On the contrary, he’s very heartless,” Hua Qiong said. “You didn’t personally witness Nanhai during this time. His Highness’s methods were so decisive, so cold, so merciless that many were alarmed. He’s truly someone who accomplishes great things—patient and resolute in cutting off emotions. When he doesn’t move, nothing happens. When he moves, it’s with the force of thunder. Such a person has the world in his heart. Everything he does is prepared in advance, not allowing errors or deviations… including his own heart.”

Feng Zhiwei smiled. “Yes, cleaned up very well.”

“But he’s fallen for you,” Hua Qiong made a decisive, forceful, unquestionable conclusion.

Feng Zhiwei remained silent. In her eyes was something slightly warm and soft. Hua Qiong smiled straightforwardly before her. Autumn sunlight fell on the level, vast white stone courtyard behind her with an ocean-like magnificence.

“Then why leave?” After a long while, Feng Zhiwei changed the subject.

“For my own happiness,” Hua Qiong said. “Huaishi’s heart doesn’t hold me. If I marry him like this, he still won’t have me. That day’s marriage proposal was just my expedient measure. For him to silently accept someone else’s child as Yan Changtian—he’s willing but I’m not.”

“This is what you deserve,” Feng Zhiwei said indifferently. “Without you casting aside your reputation in that risky move, Huaishi couldn’t have his current position. If he divorces and remarries, never mind others—I won’t allow it either.”

“He’s willing to marry me. It’s I who’s unwilling to wed,” Hua Qiong said with a proud smile. “How could I, Hua Qiong, marry someone who reluctantly takes me? If I marry him like this, even if he respects and treats me well for life, he’ll never love me.”

Feng Zhiwei gazed at this woman’s complex eyes, suddenly understanding her pride and self-respect. If she married Yan Huaishi like this, Chen Shi and Yan Huaishi would inevitably harbor resentment, feeling wronged. A village woman of ordinary birth carrying another man’s posthumous child truly couldn’t match the Yan family head. Moreover, Yan Huaishi’s feelings for her weren’t really love.

Another woman might accept marrying into the Yan family because of such merit. But not Hua Qiong.

“When you leave Nanhai, I want to go with you,” Hua Qiong held her hand, saying earnestly. “You, as a common woman, could rise to prominence, deeply trusted by the court. I greatly admire you. Please let me be someone at your side. Take me to see a vaster, more distant world.”

“Think clearly. Once you leave, Huaishi won’t owe you anything. He’ll very likely marry someone else.”

“If he so easily forgets me, then where’s the value in my seeking death for him and pining endlessly?” Hua Qiong smiled frankly. “Even liking someone must have a baseline of self-respect.”

Under the sunlight, that woman’s figure stood straight, upright and strong as a pine. Her features facing the sun were clear and straightforward, her gaze bright.

“I don’t want anyone to accommodate me out of gratitude, creating an imperfect love. I don’t want to be Yan family’s wife under my mother-in-law’s and husband’s charity, wearing an honorable surname and passing my days in peace. I want to be a woman who controls herself, refined and tempered through Tiansheng Dynasty’s mountains, seas, winds and scenes. I want Yan Huaishi to one day be forced to raise his head and truly see me. I want him to one day understand—my love for him is vaster than mountains and seas, surpassing all.”

After that deep conversation with Hua Qiong, Feng Zhiwei pondered for a long time. When Hua Qiong spoke those words, her brilliant features under autumn sunlight kept flashing back in her mind. She suddenly felt only such a free and chivalrous woman would dare declare to heaven so clearly: I love him more vastly than mountains and seas, surpassing all. And she truly was broad and magnificent, surpassing mountains and seas.

Suddenly she felt envious and faintly wistful, thinking Yan Huaishi’s fortune was truly extraordinarily good. In the quiet night, wrapped in bedding and thinking deeply without sleep, wondering where Ning Yi’s great army had reached. Nanhai and Minnan were neighboring regions—he must be rushing day and night. Thinking of his blind eyes, how he’d delayed going to Minnan for her sake, so that even now his sight hadn’t recovered. Leading great armies in such condition—what tremendous inconvenience. And what if suitable medicines weren’t found? His eyes had been delayed so long—what if he truly became permanently blind? Though he needn’t personally enter battle, on the battlefield swords and spears had no eyes. Then… what to do?

Suddenly breaking into a cold sweat, she thought to talk with Gu Nanyi, to request that famous physician follow the army to protect Ning Yi. She raised her head and knocked on the wall.

Young Master Gu floated down. His first action was to touch her forehead.

Feng Zhiwei looked at him as if shocked—amazing! Young Master Gu would initiate touching people!

Young Master Gu was completely oblivious to her gaze. During this period, everything had been exceptional. Touching her forehead had long lost any significance. He touched all over her face, feeling she still seemed somewhat hot, so he touched his own face for comparison.

Touching his own face, the veil inevitably had to be lifted. Feng Zhiwei stared blankly at the half-lifted veil revealing glimpses of his features, feeling her breath catch in her throat. She silently cursed that in the middle of the night with no lights, the pitch darkness made it easy to be dazzled. Then she thought lighting a lamp would probably be the same—the clearer she saw, the worse off she’d be.

To avoid being so worse off she’d forget what to say, she quickly turned away. Young Master Gu seemed to have already finished comparing. He took Feng Zhiwei’s flush from fanciful thoughts as fever, reached out and pulled over a blanket, very skillfully spread it on the footstool, then curled up and lay down.

Feng Zhiwei was shocked again—what was he doing?

She didn’t know about Young Master Gu keeping watch by her bed during her grave illness. Young Master Gu himself wouldn’t tell her. However, after waiting a long time with no movement, she leaned over to see Young Master Gu had actually fallen asleep holding the blanket—his long frame awkwardly curled on the short footstool, clearly sleeping very uncomfortably. Given Young Master Gu’s extreme requirement for comfort, it was hard to imagine he could fall asleep on the footstool. Looking at that skillful, natural posture—obviously not formed in a single day.

Feng Zhiwei leaned over, hand supporting the bed’s edge, staring blankly at Gu Nanyi. She recalled that night when Ning Yi rushed over mid-sleep and crashed into the bedside. Her heart trembled. Her fingers scratched at the carved wooden bed’s edge. Bits of wood dust fell onto Gu Nanyi’s veil.

Gu Nanyi opened his eyes and saw Feng Zhiwei leaning over looking down. He immediately recalled how he’d slept on the footstool night after night waiting for her to wake, having thought through what to say if she woke and looked down at him.

“Thank you.”

Feng Zhiwei, gripping the bed’s edge, nearly fell off—there were too many surprises today.

Just as he who never said “I’m sorry” had said it to her, Gu Nanyi who never knew gratitude had suddenly thanked her, and at this inexplicable moment.

What was his current situation?

Young Master Gu had now returned to those days of Feng Zhiwei’s grave illness. In those heavily oppressive nights, he’d slept on the footstool, thinking over and over what he should say when she woke and leaned down to look. Say “you’re awake”? Nonsense. Say “did you sleep well?” Still nonsense. Say “you’re alright now?” The world’s biggest nonsense.

He’d never spoken nonsense in his life. If he was going to speak, he’d say what must be said.

Those night hours had ticked away minute by minute. He’d never waited for her to wake. In that long, nearly hopeless waiting, among those heavy expressions and sighing sounds, he’d slowly come to understand that the strange, heavy thing pressing on his heart was what they called fear and anxiety—very faint, but in his world that had been blank for over a decade, it was the first occurrence.

Like when she’d smiled and peeled walnuts for him in the past—wind-like lightness in his heart. Like when she played the leaf flute and said she’d find him—cloud-like softness in his heart. Like when she’d grinned mischievously dressing him in women’s clothes—rain-like gentleness in his heart. Now he understood—those were what people called happiness, joy, delight… all bright, cheerful emotions.

Like that heaviness when fearing her death, that blood growing slightly cool when thinking she might die—that was called sorrow… He’d finally understood during those days.

Perhaps still distant from true feelings, perhaps still complex and hard to comprehend, yet in his destined barren, pale life, these were the full, vivid colors gradually being painted on.

These were all given by Feng Zhiwei. No one else could provide them.

He suddenly understood—the only thing he should say to her was thank you.

Thank you for existing. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for opening a crack in his sealed fortress, letting him see a bit of bright, vivid world.

He didn’t feel his previous ignorance was bad, but felt that understanding a bit of these things now was better.

Because if he understood, he’d be more like Feng Zhiwei, like all those people who said he was different. Then he wouldn’t be like last time—Feng Zhiwei nearly dying without him even knowing.

So he should tell her—thank you.

Gu Nanyi felt that words he wanted to say must definitely be said. Last time he’d waited so long, nearly never getting to say it to her. This time he naturally couldn’t give up.

Having said it, feeling he’d settled something on his mind, he hugged the cotton blanket and continued sleeping.

A certain pitiful person was shocked by him into sleeplessness. Feng Zhiwei glared down at him from above, watching him throw out a rock to hit someone then actually fall back asleep. Anger rose from nowhere. She reached out to shake him. “Hey, hey, don’t sleep. Get up and explain clearly.”

Young Master Gu opened his eyes, his gaze clear and bright as an autumn pool. “What?”

He’d already forgotten.

Feng Zhiwei looked at him helplessly. “You said thank you.”

“Oh.” Young Master Gu thought for a while, patted his own heart, and said slowly, “When you were about to die, here was very difficult. Thank you for letting me understand what ‘difficult’ means.”

Thank you for letting me understand what “difficult” means.

Feng Zhiwei gazed deeply at that man tapping his own heart, seriously thanking her for “understanding difficulty.” She slowly bit her lower lip. After a long while, her eyes gradually rimmed with a layer of faint red.

Indoor moonlight flickered faintly, floating and sinking like mist. Gu Nanyi was immersed in half the moon’s shadow, looking peaceful and serene. Only Feng Zhiwei knew his peace and serenity wasn’t the warm, beautiful kind that worldly people possessed. He’d always lived in an indifferent, clamorous world, lived forever in an ice vault.

In this world, there was a type of person submerged in ice water’s depths, blank for a lifetime. The world’s simplest happiness and most turbulent pain—to them all was as indifferent as from another life.

Only those who’d grown up alone in such icy worlds would understand this somewhat absurd, somewhat desolate statement’s weight—heavier than a thousand jun.

Feng Zhiwei looked at him, feeling only dull pain rising from her heart—knowing him so long, she’d knocked on his door, yet the first thing she taught him was sorrow and pain.

“No.” After a long while, Feng Zhiwei gently leaned down, lying on the bed’s edge, to that motionless, jade-carving-like man in the moonlight, murmuring as if making a vow. “Don’t let you only understand difficulty. No, not just these.”

“I want you to walk out of the prison that traps you. I want you to see this world isn’t just the one foot three inches before your eyes. I want you to stop always being a man in a case where each bowl of meat must have eight pieces. I want you to learn to look at me directly with your gaze. I want you to understand crying, laughing, caring and quarreling. To understand love.”

After recuperating for a period, before fully recovering, Feng Zhiwei plunged into a new round of busyness. The Minnan war had begun. Ning Yi had already rushed to the front lines. She couldn’t continue lying down leisurely. Though Ning Yi had helped her lay the foundation for Nanhai affairs, many details required her personal handling.

That night she still talked with Gu Nanyi about requesting that famous physician to treat Ning Yi’s eyes. But Gu Nanyi remained silently unresponsive. When pressed, he finally said, “I can’t command him.”

This statement made Feng Zhiwei’s heart stir—what did these words mean? This tone sounded like the two were in one organization with equal status, so Gu Nanyi couldn’t give orders?

“Let me meet him. I’ll talk with him.” Feng Zhiwei felt if she could meet this person, perhaps many mysteries in her heart would be solved.

Who knew Young Master Gu would directly refuse. “Now that you’re better, he must rush back to the Imperial Capital. There may be matters there.”

Feng Zhiwei was helpless and could only set this matter aside, thinking to untie the bell one must use the person who tied it. If only she could find those who’d originally planted the curse. But those people were most likely in Minnan. Better to hope Ning Yi himself would find them.

She rushed about daily between the Bureau and government offices, first handling that day’s grain-seizing incident. When Ning Yi was present, she’d been gravely ill. Zhou Xizhong had a belly full of evil fire with nowhere to vent. Now he’d caught her and nagged daily demanding an explanation. Opening granaries without authorization was one thing, but at Pingye granary, five grain guards had been chopped down—two and a half pairs! At least leave one to watch the gate!

Feng Zhiwei smiled as she listened to Commissioner Zhou’s angry rebuke, then solemnly pushed forward two parties involved—Helian Zheng and Yao Yangyu, indicating he was free to chop or kill as he pleased. Zhou Xizhong’s mouth twitched looking at those two scoundrels—one was the grassland prince heir who couldn’t be offended, one was his examination proctor Yao Ying’s son. What could he do? In the end, he could only resentfully fling his sleeves and leave, defeated again.

Regardless, opening the granaries had to some degree stabilized current rice prices. Plus the Huang and Shangguan families were preoccupied with their own troubles. The other three families withdrew. Nanhai commodity prices and people’s livelihoods began slowly stabilizing. Zhou Xizhong was dissatisfied only because this had been his backup plan to win popular support and enhance official reputation at the right moment, yet Feng Zhiwei had preemptively pulled the rug out and become the good guy.

However, his anger was quickly appeased by Feng Zhiwei. She proposed jointly with the other three great families to severely punish the Shangguan and Huang families. After the two families were destroyed, remaining benefits would be split between the government and the other three great families.

This was naturally good. Zhou Xizhong hypocritically suggested Commissioner Wei should have a share. Feng Zhiwei smiled and declined, saying she was just a passing Imperial Commissioner who’d leave after completing her assignment—no need to pluck feathers from passing geese. The court was grand and prosperous, not caring whether to compete with locals for this share. Nanhai being good meant Wei Zhi being good—you good, me good, everyone good. The only small request was that the Yan family lead concrete affairs. Being most hardworking, they should get a larger share. Additionally, allocate one-tenth of assets to the Maritime Bureau as operating expenses, with related profits also going to the Maritime Bureau in future as military funds for when aristocratic families organized maritime investigation camps to target pirates.

This was originally the court’s intention. Zhou Xizhong also agreed. As a scholar by background, he didn’t understand the vast scale of aristocratic family wealth, nor how much trickery could be involved in this one-tenth. Shops could be profitable or not. Land could be valuable or not. With expert Yan Huaishi handling these matters, what ultimately fell into the Maritime Bureau’s hands would naturally all be the fattest cuts.

In Feng Zhiwei’s heart was another plan. Under their joint suppression, the Shangguan and Huang families’ collapse was only a matter of moments. Once they fell, tens of thousands of hired workers and fishermen would lose employment. If all absorbed by the other three families, they’d grow into behemoths difficult to control in future. Better to immediately organize maritime investigation camps, selecting elites among these people to incorporate. These were all ready-made water experts who could get started with simple training. If the Minnan war ever turned against the Chang clan, they’d contract their lines and might escape to sea, coordinating with colluding pirates to cause chaos. When that time came, these people would be ready-made new Nanhai naval forces.

She was only Maritime Bureau Imperial Commissioner. Though having supervisory authority over Nanhai affairs, she couldn’t interfere with Nanhai military governance. If she wanted to help Ning Yi, this was the only path.

This day Feng Zhiwei went to inspect the Bureau under construction. Yan Huaishi moved quickly—already mostly built, magnificently beautiful, almost exceeding Provincial Administration Commissioner standards. Reportedly at the Shangye branch office, being far from emperor’s reach without restraint, it was even more gorgeous than here.

Feng Zhiwei watched the high-spirited Yan Huaishi, thinking after being stifled so many years, do as you please. Besides, I’m about to steal your wife—consider it compensation.

Returning from the Bureau, she went to the Surveillance Commissioner’s office. Recently captured Chang family agents and implicated officials were all being interrogated here. Just sitting down, Surveillance Commissioner Tao Shifeng came out to greet her, laughing heartily. “Ah, Commissioner Wei! I was just about to send someone to notify you. I have some news here.”

“What is it?”

“Several people suddenly died in the prison,” Tao Shifeng said. “They were just brought in—caught following leads from interrogating a Huang family second-generation descendant. Those people appeared at Wuji Mountain on the Nanhai-Minnan border. Looking at their route, they seemed headed for the great army. Our people took shortcuts to block them. During the pursuit, those people headed toward Fengzhou. Outside Fengzhou city, we wounded several and captured several. Before interrogation, those captured actually died.”

Speaking, he led Feng Zhiwei to view the corpses. Those people lay in prison with eyes wide, no wounds on their bodies, but very frightened expressions. Within that fright was a particular dazed quality. Feng Zhiwei looked at such expressions, vaguely feeling somewhat familiar. Her heart stirred.

She crouched down to search carefully over the bodies. Tao Shifeng said, “The coroner already examined carefully. No wounds. Strange—how were these people killed…”

Gu Nanyi, who’d been silent beside Feng Zhiwei, suddenly stepped forward and pointed at one person’s wrist.

There were faint, delicate marks—looked like something had scratched them.

“This wouldn’t be fatal—just a small wound…” Before Tao Shifeng finished, Feng Zhiwei, who’d been carefully examining those scratches, had already turned and asked, “Commissioner Tao, where did you catch these people?”

“At an abandoned farmhouse ten li outside Fengzhou city.”

“Take me there!”

Half an hour later, the lightning-fast group dismounted before that compound. Indeed abandoned, with no one around for miles.

Feng Zhiwei looked at that small courtyard standing quietly in the twilight, her heart somewhat uneasy. She spoke quietly with Gu Nanyi for a few moments. The two had others wait while they dismounted and entered the interior.

Searching carefully inside and out once—no one. Feng Zhiwei had just felt somewhat disappointed when Gu Nanyi suddenly pointed at an abandoned pigpen.

Feng Zhiwei walked slowly over.

The golden-red setting sun hung on withered yellow grass tips, swayed rustling by the deep autumn wind.

The pigpen had long been abandoned. The broken pen door creaked as wind blew it. The ground was full of dead grass and caked pig manure. All around was deeply silent.

Feng Zhiwei stepped on a dead branch, making a soft “crack.”

“Shing!”

A rust-covered pig-slaughtering knife flashed like lightning toward her face!

At the same moment, Feng Zhiwei cried out:

“It’s you!”