“It’s good that you’re back.” Zhan Qingcheng reached out his other large hand and pulled the small girl before him tightly into his embrace.

Feng Jiu’er stared wide-eyed at his chin, unbothered by how firmly he held her.

This fool — even more foolish than her own father, yet just as endearing.

She felt as though she was falling deeper and deeper in love with him — in a way she could not pull herself free of.

“Lord Night Prince’s injuries are not light — should we let him go inside and rest first?”

Jian Yi’s voice cut through the thoughts of the two people wrapped in each other’s arms.

Only then did Feng Jiu’er snap back to her senses. She gave Zhan Qingcheng a little push and stepped out of his embrace.

Turning to look at the man whose face was utterly drained of color, Feng Jiu’er felt a pang of guilt so sharp that even her steps toward him were faster than usual.

“There’s no hurry — I’m fine.” Feng Li said softly.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together with a slightly apologetic smile, then went over and together with Jian Yi, helped Feng Li — one on each side — into the inner bedchamber.

“Jian Yi, go fetch some warm water.” Feng Jiu’er took out a vial of medicinal pills and set it to one side.

“Alright.” Jian Yi gave a nod and vanished in an instant.

Aside from Master Jingxin, who remained outside with her eyes closed in meditation, both Zhan Qingcheng and Mu Mu had entered the bedchamber.

“Jiu’er, what exactly happened? Who saved you?”

Mu Mu casually pulled over a chair and placed it behind Zhan Qingcheng, though his gaze remained fixed on Feng Jiu’er the entire time.

The girl had clearly suffered a serious injury, yet here she was — returned in the blink of an eye as if she were a different person entirely, her inner energy seemingly even stronger than before her martial arts had been crippled.

Seated on the bed with her hand clasped around Feng Li’s large one, Feng Jiu’er glanced back over her shoulder.

The moment her eyes met Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze, her delicate brows gave the faintest furrow — then, as if quite naturally, she shifted her gaze to Mu Mu.

“I don’t know what happened either. When I woke up, there was only him beside me…”

She pressed her lips together and looked back at Feng Li.

“It was my father who saved me. To rescue me, he transferred every last bit of his lifetime’s cultivation to me.”

“That is why he looks the way he does. My father is not Feng Qiongcang — his name is Feng Li. The most remarkable man in the Feng Clan.”

Feng Jiu’er kept her voice low, but it did nothing to conceal the joy and pride shining across her face.

Meeting Feng Li’s slightly anxious gaze, Feng Jiu’er gave a light smile and waved her hand in reassurance.

“It’s alright — they all came here for my sake. Some of them even set aside half a kingdom of Bei Mu to come to the Feng Clan.”

“Father, I trust them, and I hope you can trust them too.”

Feng Jiu’er was well aware that Jian Yi was just stepping back through the door, but she had no intention of keeping anything from him.

Of the people present, aside from the nun outside, she trusted the three in this room completely.

A thoroughly baffled Jian Yi walked in, carrying a cup of warm water.

He looked at Feng Jiu’er; she rose and turned to meet his gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that — I only just found out about this myself.”

As she turned, Jian Yi said quietly, “Give that to me — I’ll take it.”

He took what was in Feng Jiu’er’s hands and stepped forward to help Feng Li sit up.

“Jiu’er, you’re saying Lord Night Prince is actually your real father — what is going on?”

“I told you — I don’t know.” Feng Jiu’er set down the tray, picked up a bowl of warm water, and sat back down at the bedside.

“Father, come — take your medicine. These are specially prepared pills of mine. They will help your body feel more comfortable.”

Feng Li glanced at the two people a short distance away, then parted his lips and accepted his daughter’s care.

Feng Jiu’er understood her father’s unease — she herself had once been betrayed by those she trusted most.

But everyone had done so much for her sake alone. If she could not even offer them basic trust, that would be deeply hurtful.

After swallowing the medicine, Feng Li looked at the young people gathered before him and leaned gently back against the bedding at the head of the bed.

“All of this is my fault.”

Looking at him this way, Feng Jiu’er felt deeply uncomfortable.

They had been separated for over ten years. Her father did not even know that her mother was still alive.

“Father, what exactly happened back then? Why did you and my mother separate?”

“Back then, I met your mother in Bei Mu.”

Speaking of the past, Feng Li’s expression remained calm — yet the light that seeped through the depths of his eyes was one of incomparable tenderness.

Feng Jiu’er stared at him without blinking, as though she might find within Feng Li’s deep gaze a fuller understanding of everything between her father and mother.

Long Feiyan’s eyes had frightened Feng Jiu’er — she could not detect even the faintest trace of love her mother held for her father.

Thankfully, she could see it in her father’s eyes. She could sense it clearly — the depth of feeling he held for her mother.

“It is I who failed her.” Feng Li let out a quiet sigh. “I made a promise that I would return, but I was unable to keep it.”

“Then why didn’t you go back?” Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together, her brow knitting tight. “Did you know that my mother…”

“I know.” Feng Li looked at Feng Jiu’er with a sorrowful expression. “She died.”

“Because of a sudden turn of events, I was forced to return to the Feng Clan. Before I left, I promised Long’er I would come back to find her in Bei Mu — but I… broke my word.”

Feng Li took Feng Jiu’er’s hands in his own palms, closed his eyes, and concealed the pain within.

“Is the turn of events Lord Night Prince speaks of the passing of the Feng Clan’s previous Emperor, and Feng Qiongcang’s ascension to the throne?” Zhan Qingcheng’s low, measured voice came from nearby.

Feng Jiu’er turned back for a glance, then immediately looked back to Feng Li.

“Father, what Ninth Imperial Uncle said…”

“Mm.” Feng Li gave a slight nod in reply. “And yet, in the end, the fault still lies with me.”

“Even a man who once held sway over an entire court can make a miscalculation.” Zhan Qingcheng’s voice came again.

Feng Jiu’er’s brow furrowed slightly. She rose and turned to face Zhan Qingcheng.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, what exactly happened? Can you not speak plainly?”

Feng Jiu’er was beginning to truly appreciate that a conversation with these two men required no small amount of patience.

Yet she had forgotten — the two men speaking with her now were, in any other company, men of remarkably few words.

Feng Li could not bring himself to speak clearly because of the guilt weighing on his heart. And Zhan Qingcheng — if this matter had not concerned his own girl, he would not have offered a single word more.

“Rumor has it that after Lord Night Prince returned to the imperial palace back then, he fell gravely ill not long after and remained unconscious for a considerable length of time. Whether that is so, one would need to ask Lord Night Prince himself.”

Zhan Qingcheng looked at Feng Jiu’er, his gaze as gentle as it ever was with her.

His mood was good — whether because his Jiu’er had come back, or because the little girl had gained Feng Li’s supreme divine inner energy, only Zhan Qingcheng himself knew.

Feng Jiu’er turned to look at Feng Li, her delicate brows knitting together slightly.

“Father, is what Ninth Imperial Uncle said true? Why would you suddenly fall ill when you had been perfectly well?”

As long as Feng Li gave a nod, Feng Jiu’er would believe it without question.

It was simply that a person could be perfectly fine one moment, possessed of extraordinary martial arts — and then suddenly fall ill. Was that really not a coincidence?

Feng Li met Feng Jiu’er’s gaze, and the expression in his eyes grew even more somber.

“Jiu’er, all of this is Father’s fault. You have every right to be angry. Had I gone back to her back then, your mother might not have died.”

“I failed her — and in the end, I did not even offer her a single explanation before she died. I… was unworthy of being her husband.”