“Yes.” This time, Zhao Yusheng didn’t dare to delay any further. He turned and waved his hand. “Brothers, let’s go!”

The people ahead made way, and the wounded brothers quickly mounted their horses and followed Zhao Yusheng away.

The remaining brothers stayed ready to fight at any moment.

“Father.” Feng Jiu’er turned her head to look at Feng Li beside her.

“There’s no time.” Feng Li replied flatly.

A fierce gust of wind swept past, blowing up everyone’s long hair and robes.

The wind grew stronger and stronger. If the people on horseback hadn’t possessed considerable internal strength, they might have been blown straight to the ground.

Feng Li furrowed his brow, his gaze shifting to the hill nearby.

There, standing atop a massive boulder, was a strikingly beautiful man looking down at the people in the ravine below.

The late-autumn mountain wind already carried a chill, but the moment the man in white appeared, the air around them instantly turned icy.

Feng Qiongcang was likewise a rare beauty among men—his features exquisite beyond compare, tall in stature, with an imposing bearing.

His age was, on him, an utter mystery.

“Jiu’er, come back with your Imperial Father!” Feng Qiongcang’s gaze swept briefly over Feng Li before settling on Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er frowned, gripping the horse’s reins, standing guard before Feng Li together with Zhan Qingcheng.

“I won’t go back with you. Let everyone go.” Feng Jiu’er replied softly.

“You’d let your own willfulness bury everyone here as your funeral company!” Feng Qiongcang’s eyes darkened, and the air around them seemed to freeze solid.

“We’re not afraid of dying. If we go, we go together; if we stay, we stay together!” Qiao Mu stared up at the man on the height, her voice cold.

Suddenly, a gust of palm force came rushing in.

With a “boom,” wherever the force struck, a boulder shattered.

“Wretched girl, this isn’t your place to speak!” Han Ying snorted coldly, landing beside Feng Qiongcang.

Han Ying’s palm strike was not to be underestimated—even though Qiao Mu dodged in time, her breath still grew ragged.

So as not to worry Feng Jiu’er, she forced herself to swallow back the mouthful of dark blood rising in her throat.

“Qiao Mu.” Feng Jiu’er glanced back at her.

“I’m fine!” Qiao Mu shook her head, still holding her chin high as she stared at the figure above.

“Jiu’er, you don’t need to be so soft-hearted. Even if all of us die here today, we won’t leave you behind alone.”

“I’m afraid they never intended to let us leave in the first place.” Mu Mu said, watching Feng Qiongcang, his fine eyes narrowing slightly.

“Since none of you fear death, then let’s start with you!” Han Ying glared coldly at Qiao Mu, then suddenly leapt forward, closing the distance.

Qiao Mu gripped her silver spear tightly and leapt up to meet her.

At the same moment, Jian Yi also closed in, sword drawn.

In an instant, the three of them, locked in combat, landed on another hill, fighting fiercely.

“Jiu’er, your Imperial Father will ask you once more…”

“Make your move!” Before Feng Qiongcang could finish, Zhan Qingcheng cut him off in a deep voice.

Feng Jiu’er’s brow knitted, and she immediately gripped Zhan Qingcheng’s palm.

She turned to look at him and shook her head.

No! Not until the very last moment could she let her Ninth Imperial Uncle make his move!

Feng Qiongcang met Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze, the corner of his mouth curling slightly.

“The War God Prince of the Beimu Kingdom? What a pity—today you’ll be buried here, in the Feng Clan’s lands.”

His gaze swept over Feng Li, and Feng Qiongcang shook his head.

“The two of you—one has lost all his martial arts, the other is gravely wounded, neither able even to protect himself—and yet you dare dream of protecting my Jiu’er?”

With a “crack,” Qiao Mu took a hit from Han Ying’s palm and her body plummeted downward.

Long Shiyi leapt forward and caught her in his arms.

“Don’t worry about me.” Qiao Mu grabbed at Long Shiyi’s sleeve, but before she could finish speaking, a mouthful of dark blood spilled from the corner of her lips.

Glancing back at Qiao Mu, Feng Jiu’er closed her eyes briefly, then turned, her gaze falling once more on Feng Qiongcang.

She gripped Zhan Qingcheng tightly—partly to restrain the man’s rising fury, partly out of her own aching concern.

“I don’t need anyone to protect me. Let everyone go, and I’ll go back with you.”

“Jiu’er must come back with her Imperial Father today, without question. But as for the people here—none of them shall leave!”

Feng Qiongcang snorted coldly and waved his hand; screams erupted from the rear of the group.

The brothers seated on horseback, given no time to react, were flung to the ground by the fierce wind. Several horses were injured and couldn’t even get back up.

Feng Jiu’er’s grip on Zhan Qingcheng tightened further.

Feng Qiongcang met her stubborn gaze, closed his eyes, and let out a soft sigh.

Opening his eyes again, he looked at her, then turned his gaze to Feng Li.

“It seems that as long as he lives, you won’t listen to your Imperial Father, will you?”

“No!” Feng Jiu’er spread her arms wide and glared at Feng Qiongcang. “You cannot hurt him!”

The little girl who had meant to shield Feng Li now found herself shielding even her own Ninth Imperial Uncle.

Suddenly, a whirlwind rose up from behind her, and Feng Jiu’er turned to look.

But the man who had been on horseback behind her was already gone, vanished without a trace.

On the hill, a figure clad in black had appeared.

He was strikingly beautiful, cold and proud, noble—like a god given form.

Even with a sovereign standing at his side, Zhan Qingcheng’s presence dimmed even the equally exquisite Feng Qiongcang by comparison.

Zhan Qingcheng’s regal aura was even stronger than Feng Qiongcang’s—as if, before him, Feng Qiongcang were merely a subject.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, no!” Feng Jiu’er froze for a moment, then drew a sharp breath and leapt, landing steadily beside Zhan Qingcheng.

Her speed was such that all who witnessed it were left in awe.

“Take him away.” Zhan Qingcheng turned his head to look at Mu Mu, his deep voice ringing out.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er clutched at his sleeve, afraid he was about to lose his temper.

Just as Mu Mu was about to take Feng Li away, Feng Qiongcang’s brow furrowed and he leapt forward.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His voice still echoed on the hill, but the man himself had already vanished.

Feng Jiu’er suddenly snapped to her senses, immediately released Zhan Qingcheng, and chased after him.

Both of their speeds were so great that ordinary people couldn’t even catch a glimpse of their figures.

“Father, be careful!”

Just as Feng Jiu’er’s urgent cry rang out, a thunderous “boom” shook the very mountains, and no one could see what was happening ahead.

Han Ying shoved Jian Yi aside with one palm and immediately turned to head back.

But before she could reach them, Mu Mu had already seized the chaos to spirit Feng Li away from the battle, vanishing in an instant.

Not far off, two figures stood facing each other, both their faces suddenly turning pale.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er’s anguished cry echoed through the entire valley.

He had made his move after all—she hadn’t even had time to stop him.

Staring at Zhan Qingcheng’s tall, broad back, Feng Jiu’er could almost hear the sound of her own heart cracking.

Forced back several steps by the surging current of air, she drew a deep breath and, heedless of everything, dashed forward.

Just moments ago, it had been she who meant to shield her father from Feng Qiongcang’s strike—but instead, her body had been flung lightly aside, thrown clear of the battle.

He had spent his very last reserve of true energy, for her, for her father, forcing himself to take that blow from Feng Qiongcang head-on.

Ninth Imperial Uncle, are you alright?