Early the next morning, a piece of explosive news spread through nearly the entire imperial city, and from there crossed its walls to rapidly circulate through the surrounding towns and districts.

Feng Jiu’er was alive. She had just left the imperial city and was at this very moment making her way toward the southern frontier border.

“How could this information have gotten out?” When Qiao Mu received the news, she was momentarily unable to process it.

Those people had not explicitly named Jiu’er as the master of the Hall of Heavenly Secrets. Yet they had been able to describe Jiu’er’s whereabouts with such precision — which meant they were thoroughly familiar with everything about them.

They were heading to the Feng Clan, and to do so they had to pass through the frontier border between the Southern Wilds and Bei Mu.

From here to the Southern Wilds border, there was only a single route.

Unless they took minor paths around it, finding them would be as simple as could be.

“The world knows about your connection to the Ninth Prince. Spreading the news like this will inevitably draw countless people here, all hoping to capture you alive and use you as leverage against the Ninth Prince!”

Once she had let everyone read the slip of paper, Qiao Mu crushed it in her hand with a single squeeze, and in an instant it crumbled to fragments.

She was furious. Why did these people know their every move with such perfect clarity?

Could there truly be a spy within their group?

Yanu ladled a bowl of congee for Jiu’er. Xue Gu slid a plate of pastries to her. Tuoba Keyan sat quietly drinking tea. Mu Mu’s sword-like brows were faintly knitted, his thoughts unclear.

The rest of the group sat at a table in the outer courtyard, taking their morning meal.

Everything looked so entirely ordinary.

Yet why could those people track their every move without a single error?

The seeds of suspicion were slowly taking root in everyone’s hearts — who exactly had leaked their information so completely?

“Don’t overthink it. The fact that I am the master of the Hall of Heavenly Secrets is probably known by quite a few people.”

Jiu’er took a sip of congee, and unlike everyone else she showed no tension whatsoever — quite the contrary, she appeared utterly unbothered.

“To say nothing of farther back — just take Feng Qingyin, that troublemaker. She had in fact known for a long time that I was Feng Jiu’er; she simply never had an opportunity to prove it.”

So if one said Feng Qingyin had a hand in this, it was not particularly surprising.

“But how would Feng Qingyin know we are heading for the Southern Wilds border?” Qiao Mu was unconvinced — on this point alone, the logic simply didn’t hold.

“Then perhaps Feng Qingyin has joined forces with someone, and that someone happens to know what I am currently doing.”

Feng Jiu’er appeared genuinely unconcerned by the matter. She said calmly, “Even if Feng Qingyin has nothing to do with this, the fact remains that someone knows everything about me.”

Qiao Mu did not press further. Jiu’er had no wish to speak about the spy, or even to begin the subject at all.

Qiao Mu understood her meaning well enough. Whatever the case, they had all gone through life and death together. No one wanted to suspect anyone else.

“Eat up. Once everyone has eaten their fill, we set out immediately.” Xue Gu added.

“Alright.” Qiao Mu picked up her bowl and buried herself in her congee, saying nothing more.

When everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the group was ready to depart.

Because Jiu’er’s foot had not yet healed, riding a horse today was not convenient for her, so she continued to travel inside the carriage.

Furthermore, the horse that Mu Mu had specifically intended to give Jiu’er was still nowhere to be found — its fate uncertain — and she currently had no suitable mount available to her in any case.

Qiao Mu did not ride today either, choosing instead to sit in the carriage with Jiu’er.

“Are you afraid we’ll fall into internal strife?” The journey was dull. Jiu’er lay inside the carriage, a military strategy book already in hand.

But the carriage swayed and lurched unevenly, and reading for too long made her head swim.

She did not answer Qiao Mu’s question directly, but instead asked, “Do you think that even if we spoke everything out plainly, what would it change?”

Other than adding more worry to everyone’s hearts.

Although Qiao Mu knew she was speaking the truth, the mere thought that their group might truly harbor a spy left her deeply unsettled.

They were all comrades who had faced death side by side. No one wanted to see anyone betray them.

Yet Feng Yi’nan’s wound from before, and now the leaking of Jiu’er’s route — all of it pointed to the same conclusion: not only was there a spy among them, but that spy was someone of great malice.

Qiao Mu’s mood was heavy with worry, while Jiu’er continued to try to read her strategy book.

Qiao Mu had no other option; she leaped down from the carriage, mounted her horse, and fell in behind it to ride alongside the rest of the group.

But after she left, Jiu’er set down the book in her hands. She lifted the carriage curtain softly and gazed at the scenery outside, her eyes deep and still.

A spy — hmph. Why again a spy?

Dan Yi Dao’s death still felt as though it had just happened. He had said he had no choice, that he did not wish to harm them, but that he had been powerless and had no other way out.

If this spy now was in the same situation as Dan Yi Dao — would pursuing the matter lead to the same fate for this person? Would death be the only outcome?

Yet she could not bring herself to believe that after spending so long together, anyone among them could have brought themselves to deal such a vicious blow to Feng Yi’nan.

If they truly had, how deeply had they concealed their intentions? How ruthless were their methods?

They had all walked out through the gates of death together, more than half a year ago. Yi’nan shared such a deep bond with everyone. Who could truly have done it?

Another figure climbed into the carriage — Yanu came in carrying a water pouch.

“I have water here.” Jiu’er said.

Yanu said nothing and still extended the water pouch toward her.

“Is yours sweeter, then?” Having lost all desire to read, Jiu’er gestured for Yanu to sit beside her and opened the water pouch.

A fragrant scent drifted into her nostrils. Her eyes brightened at once, and she took a sip.

“It’s so sweet!” It truly was sweet — but this was not plain water. It was… fruit juice?

“Green fruit. Simmered down.” Yanu’s speech seemed more fluid today than before — though he could not yet string sentences together seamlessly, his enunciation was clear, and the hoarseness was beginning to fade.

“Your voice will surely be exceptionally rich and pleasant to hear.” Jiu’er smiled, took another sip, and found herself growing fond of the taste.

Having Yanu close by was truly wonderful — meals, rest, daily comforts — everything was tended to with great care.

She had not seen Yanu when she returned the previous evening, and she had assumed he did not know she had arrived. It was only later that she heard from Qiao Mu that the moment Yanu saw her return safe and unharmed, he had immediately slipped into the kitchen to prepare her evening meal.

No wonder that brash Qiao Mu had been able to have supper ready for her in such a short time — all along, it had been Yanu’s doing.

The way Yanu treated her was truly exceptional in every way.

So many times, without Feng Jiu’er even needing to say a word, Yanu already knew what she needed.

What had she ever done to deserve Yanu’s wholehearted and unwavering devotion?

“Yanu,” Jiu’er suddenly called.

Yanu looked at her without speaking.

Jiu’er smiled. “Don’t be afraid. Even though you have no ability to defend yourself, once my martial arts return, I will absolutely protect you.”

Yanu pressed his lips together, and then — a faint, soft smile spread across his face.

His true appearance was still hidden beneath the bandages wrapped around his face, yet the smile that rose in the depths of his eyes shone brilliant as starlight.