Feng Jiu’er froze.

What on earth was going on in this man’s head?

Wasn’t what he should be considering right now the fact that ruining her hand meant ruining her entire life?

He’d marry her… good heavens! Did this man actually think that as long as someone was willing to marry a young woman, she’d be happy for the rest of her life?

“Who asked you to marry me?” Feng Jiu’er really wanted to roll her eyes.

“If you truly feel guilty toward me, then just don’t cut off my hand — wouldn’t that solve everything?”

Such a simple matter — was there really any need to bring up taking responsibility, the future, or marriage at all?

Jian Yi’s expression turned somber. He knew he had wronged her, but how else could he repay what he owed Feng Qingyin?

Feng Qingyin wanted her life, but Jian Yi knew that taking Feng Jiu’er’s life with his own hands was something he absolutely could not do now.

By comparison, wasn’t trading one hand for one life surely worth it?

Jian Yi said nothing, and Feng Jiu’er knew at once that this man’s mind simply couldn’t bend.

He was determined to cut off her hand, and it now seemed that this had nothing to do with money or fame — it was probably because he owed someone something.

“Just who exactly do you owe?” To want her hand this badly, that person must hate her fiercely.

Then again, were there really so few people who hated Feng Jiu’er?

Still, an ordinary person wouldn’t settle for just her hand alone — what they’d want was absolutely her life.

Jian Yi still said nothing — it seemed there was no way he would tell her who was behind this.

But was Feng Jiu’er really the type to give up so easily?

She stared at Jian Yi’s cold, resolute face for a good while, then asked quietly, “Is it a woman?”

Jian Yi’s thick brows twitched slightly, a flicker passing through his eyes, his thin lips moving faintly as though about to say something.

But in the end, he still said not a single word.

Feng Jiu’er understood at once — it really was a woman.

“A young, beautiful woman?” she probed further.

“Not as good-looking as you.” Jian Yi said it flatly.

Though Feng Qingyin was indeed beautiful too — in fact, before he had seen Feng Jiu’er’s true face, Jian Yi had thought Feng Qingyin was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The title of the imperial city’s number one beauty was not an empty honor.

But after seeing Feng Jiu’er’s true appearance, looking at Feng Qingyin again, he couldn’t help but find her somewhat gaudy by comparison.

Feng Jiu’er’s elegant, pure clarity was nothing like the beauty Feng Qingyin achieved through elaborate dress and adornment.

Jian Yi considered himself not the type to be swayed by mere looks — even with a beauty like Feng Jiu’er before him, he had no inclination to be moved.

Comparing the two of them was simply an objective observation, nothing more.

“So that means she’s still quite good-looking too, isn’t she?” Feng Jiu’er tilted her head, not missing a single flicker of emotion in his eyes.

Jian Yi glanced at her, his tone indifferent yet carrying a touch of helplessness.

“I’m sorry, I won’t tell you who it is, but…”

“It’s Feng Qingyin, isn’t it?”

Jian Yi was struck with astonishment — how could she have known?

Then he suddenly realized his expression had given far too much away — whatever he was thinking, he couldn’t hide it at all.

Feng Jiu’er let out a long breath, eyeing him. “What is this all for? Feng Qingyin is already the old emperor’s consort — in fact, she’s now Noble Consort.”

“Even if you plucked stars from the sky for her, given your current status, there’s no way she could ever be with you.”

Feng Qingyin really was something — managing to entice such an outstanding man into risking his life for her even while serving as a royal consort.

Such ability truly deserved a measure of grudging admiration.

Still, wasn’t this man being far too foolish? Did he actually believe Feng Qingyin held any so-called genuine feelings for him?

“I never thought of having her follow me.” At least, not now — not in the slightest.

“You truly never thought of it?” Feng Jiu’er didn’t believe him.

Jian Yi’s lips moved slightly, but to his surprise, he couldn’t answer that question.

Who said he had never thought of it at all? At least, in the beginning, he had genuinely considered taking Feng Qingyin away from the imperial city to live elsewhere.

He had even planned it all out — Feng Qingyin came from a noble family, delicate and pampered, and he would never let her suffer in the future.

As long as she was willing to leave the imperial city, he would spend his whole life giving her everything he could.

But all of that was in the past now.

“Was it only because you owed her that you thought taking care of her for life was the only way to repay that debt of gratitude?”

“Was it not because of romantic feelings between a man and a woman?”

“Right now, no.” He turned his face away, unwilling to discuss such matters with Feng Jiu’er — this was, after all, his own private business.

But now that Feng Jiu’er had gradually begun to grasp the heart of the matter, how could she possibly let him off so easily?

“You say it’s not now — so it was before, then? Did you used to love her?”

“Before, it was only because I mistook gratitude for romantic feelings.”

Jian Yi rose abruptly to his feet, sweeping his long sleeve aside, his face showing displeasure.

“There’s no need to pry into these matters with me. I cannot agree to give her your life — so your hand must absolutely be given to her instead.”

He walked to the cave entrance, unwilling to keep entangling himself in this question with her.

In any case, her hand absolutely had to be given over to Feng Qingyin.

Feng Jiu’er stared at his retreating figure, cold and resolute, utterly unyielding. Yet she knew Jian Yi’s heart was not nearly as cold and merciless as he appeared.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have preferred to cut off only one hand rather than take her life.

He was even willing to take responsibility for her — clearly not loving her, yet out of guilt, willing to marry her.

He really wasn’t a bad person at heart, but this thick-headed fool simply couldn’t think his way around the obvious.

Feng Jiu’er lowered her gaze, looking at the snake’s leftover bones on the ground. After a moment’s thought, she suddenly smiled and said, “Either way, you’ll have to wait until you can guarantee I’ll still survive before you act, alright?”

That ruthless woman, Feng Qingyin — sure enough, what she wanted wasn’t just her hand alone!

What she truly wanted was her life!

And Jian Yi — by now he had probably already seen through Feng Qingyin’s true face, and no longer cared for that wicked woman, had he?

Judging from his tone just now, he truly had no feelings left for Feng Qingyin — in fact, he seemed to find her rather repugnant.

Jian Yi turned and looked back at her.

Feng Jiu’er hugged her own knees, gazing at her own lonely shadow cast upon the ground.

That lonely, desolate figure pierced his eyes with a sharp ache.

She truly owed him nothing at all, and yet, for the sake of repaying a debt of gratitude, he insisted on cutting off her hand…

But if he didn’t do this, he would owe Feng Qingyin for the rest of his life!

People were all selfish at heart — he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life living in unease.

But her hand — it was so lovely…

“There are still more snakes inside, you know?” Feng Jiu’er suddenly sighed, stood up, and looked at him.

She patted her own cheeks, forcing out a bit of a smile. “Well, life is short anyway — a happy day is still a day, and an unhappy day is still a day.”

“These hands of mine are bound to be gone sooner or later, so while they’re still here, I should make use of them while I can.”

She gave Jian Yi a smile, beckoning with a curl of her finger, as though she really had stopped letting the tragedy soon to come weigh on her mind.

“Come on, let’s go back in — let’s catch a couple more big snakes and keep feasting!”