When Feng Jiu’er and Xiao Yingtao headed down, a bonfire had been lit outside the inn.
The brothers were singing and dancing, the atmosphere full of energy.
“Miss Jiu’er.”
“Miss Jiu’er.”
Every face that turned toward Feng Jiu’er was wearing a smile, the kind of warmth that had not been seen on these men for a very long time.
“Jiu’er, come on over, everything’s been prepared for you.” Zhao Yusheng stood up and came to meet her.
When he moved to take Feng Jiu’er’s hand, she shot him a look, and he had no choice but to pull his hand back.
“Here, Jiu’er, this is for you — the most tender cut of lamb leg.”
Feng Jiu’er acknowledged the brothers around her with a nod, and together with Zhao Yusheng, she made her way to a comfortable-looking spot.
On a cold winter’s night, gathered around a roaring bonfire, settled into a chair draped with a fur rug, eating lamb ribs — it really was not bad at all.
She pressed her lips together lightly and took her seat behind the table.
“Jiu’er, Zhao Yusheng prepared all of this for you. It’s already been cut, and the steam is still rising — eat while it’s hot.” Xiao Yingtao sat down beside her.
Feng Jiu’er picked up the wooden fork that a certain someone had specially carved and speared a piece of lamb, placing it in her mouth.
Zhao Yusheng stood nearby, his expression tense with anticipation.
“Well? Not bad, right? I tested it myself — it’s really good.”
“Not as good as when Jian Yi grills it.” Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes to look at him, one brow arched lightly, then lowered her head and speared another piece.
Looking up again to meet the man’s crestfallen expression, she gave a light cough.
“Still decent though. Second best.”
“Is that so?” Only then did the corners of Zhao Yusheng’s mouth curve up.
It seemed that as long as he received even a word of praise from Feng Jiu’er — even second place — he was perfectly content.
“Zhao Yusheng, go eat your own food. No matter how long you stand there staring, she’s still not going to be your wife.” Xiao Yingtao said with a laugh.
Zhao Yusheng curved his lips slightly and sat down on Feng Jiu’er’s other side.
“She already is my wife. She’ll always be mine.”
He seemed to think his mumbling was quiet enough that Feng Jiu’er wouldn’t hear.
But when he turned his head, he found himself caught directly in Feng Jiu’er’s reproachful gaze.
“Jiu’er, I…” Zhao Yusheng gave a heavy cough. “You don’t need to say anything. I know. I already know.”
“Know what?” Feng Jiu’er’s brow furrowed slightly. She had little confidence in whatever Zhao Yusheng thought he knew.
The look of easy delight spread across Zhao Yusheng’s face once more.
He turned back to his own food, picked up his wooden fork, mimicked Feng Jiu’er’s posture, and speared a cut piece of lamb.
“Your habits — I’ll get used to them sooner or later. Jiu’er, you can count on me, I…”
“Get used to what?” Feng Jiu’er fixed the man beside her with a half-lidded, pointed look.
Zhao Yusheng only smiled and said nothing more.
Looking at the fellow sitting beside her, Feng Jiu’er drew in a long breath.
“Zhao Yusheng, I…”
“Hey, Jiu’er, you’re calling for me?” Zhao Yusheng turned his head, meeting her gaze, his smile brighter than the fire burning not far away.
Feng Jiu’er stared at him with wide, direct eyes, then drew in another forceful breath.
“Don’t say another word about wedding ceremonies or wives.” She shot Zhao Yusheng a pointed look and turned her gaze away.
“Understood.” Zhao Yusheng said lightly. “Jiu’er, eat while it’s warm. It’ll get cold.”
Feng Jiu’er ignored him and went straight for a lamb rib, gnawing on it with full focus.
Yet she could still hear the man beside her murmuring to himself.
“Not yet, but one day. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Zhao Yusheng snuck a glance at Feng Jiu’er, then quietly began eating.
When she turned to look, he was neither talking nor watching her, and there was nothing more she could say.
She honestly could not tell if this fellow would actually give up once she eventually married someone else. They had no feelings for each other, and yet simply because of that wedding ceremony incident, he had kept at it this sincerely for so long.
Then again, thinking about it, men of the ancient era were really quite something — at least they took marriage seriously, held themselves accountable, unlike the men of the modern era.
Putting Zhao Yusheng out of her mind, Feng Jiu’er went back to gnawing on her lamb rib.
After a while, she looked at the bare bone in her hand and released a quiet sigh.
What exactly was Jian Yi’s situation right now? Did he have enough to eat, enough warmth to keep him going?
Outside the city walls, a procession of Imperial Physicians moved in and out of Zhan Yuheng’s tent.
For two days and two nights, Zhan Yuheng’s condition had not improved.
Watching the man beside her, his face drained of color, Feng Qingyin clenched her fists, burning with a desire to tear Feng Jiu’er apart.
The Imperial Physicians had just departed, leaving only Feng Qingyin and Qing Yun in the tent.
With Zhan Yuheng’s condition this critical, Qing Yun had no attention to spare for anything else. All of it was directed at Zhan Yuheng.
Feng Qingyin sat at the bedside, clasping Zhan Yuheng’s hand, her eyes glistening.
“Crown Prince brother, can you hear me? Crown Prince brother, don’t frighten Qingyin like this. Please, wake up soon! You’ve frightened me, and you’ve frightened our child. Please wake up quickly. Qingyin needs you, Crown Prince brother. Wake up soon.”
Qing Yun knew very well what Zhan Yuheng’s feelings toward Feng Qingyin were. He kept her here for one reason only — the child she was carrying.
For this woman who had forced herself upon the Crown Prince, Qing Yun felt nothing but contempt. If he could, he would have driven her out long ago, rather than let her taint the Crown Prince’s presence.
“Crown Prince brother, open your eyes and look at Qingyin. Look at our child.” Feng Qingyin’s voice continued.
“Crown Prince brother, Qingyin misses you. Wake up quickly. Our child and I both need you, Crown Prince brother.”
Suddenly, the man lying on the bed with his eyes firmly shut gave a light cough.
Feng Qingyin tightened her grip on his large hand. “Crown Prince brother, have you woken up?”
“Open your eyes and look at me. The Imperial Physician said that as long as you wake up today, you’ll make a full recovery. Crown Prince brother, open your eyes now and look at me.”
“Jiu’er.” Zhan Yuheng stirred, his eyelids moving, his voice raw and hoarse. “Jiu’er, it’s me…”
Zhan Yuheng returned the grip around Feng Qingyin’s small hand and murmured huskily, “Jiu’er, don’t leave me. It was my fault, Jiu’er. Don’t leave.”
Upon hearing Zhan Yuheng’s words clearly, Feng Qingyin’s expression went cold and dark in an instant.
That night, it was her name he had called out. Why, even now, was it still her name on his lips?
“Qing Yun.” Feng Qingyin turned and fixed him with a sharp, displeased look. “Send out the troops! I am ordering you — march now!”
Qing Yun’s brow furrowed. He stepped closer and looked at the man in the bed.
“If His Highness the Crown Prince does not recover, what is the point of winning this battle?”
“Jiu’er, don’t go!” Zhan Yuheng’s grip on Feng Qingyin’s hand tightened, his brows locked together in a pained furrow, yet still he could not open his eyes.
“Jiu’er, I was wrong. Jiu’er, don’t… leave. It was I who… was wrong.”
Feng Qingyin looked down at the man before her — a man calling out another woman’s name — and drew in a sharp, silent breath.
Yes. Her Crown Prince brother absolutely could not be in danger. Without him, she would have nothing and no one to rely on.
But hearing him still calling Feng Jiu’er’s name — how could she pretend she hadn’t heard a thing?
Turning back to glare at Qing Yun, Feng Qingyin’s voice dropped low and cold. “March. I will stay here with the Crown Prince brother.”
“Take the troops and kill Feng Jiu’er!”