“Qiao Mu, how’s the wheelchair I asked you to prepare coming along?” Feng Jiu’er asked, looking at Qiao Mu.

“Brought it back—it’s in Jian Yi’s room,” Qiao Mu replied.

“Good.” Feng Jiu’er nodded. “Jian Yi’s body hasn’t fully recovered yet, he shouldn’t walk too far—the wheelchair will be easier.”

“Wait for me a moment, I need to go get Jian Yi.”

Before she’d even finished speaking, Feng Jiu’er had already left Qiao Mu and Mu Mu standing there.

She’d promised herself she’d find that fellow and make sure he had a few new outfits made.

Feng Jiu’er didn’t know how Jian Yi had spent New Year during those past twenty-some years, but she hoped that from now on, everyone could spend it together with him.

In good spirits, Feng Jiu’er pushed open the door to Jian Yi’s room.

Jian Yi, perhaps having heard the sounds outside, was already sitting in his wheelchair on his own.

Meeting his gaze, Feng Jiu’er’s lips curved up slightly as she walked over.

“Handsome people look handsome even in a wheelchair, don’t worry!” She hadn’t forgotten that this fellow had objected to using the wheelchair just yesterday.

The whole group left the Ninth Prince’s manor, followed by two maids.

Feng Jiu’er pushed Jian Yi along in front, with Mu Mu beside them, and everyone else following behind.

“Mu Mu, do you know the way to the fabric shop?” Feng Jiu’er turned to ask Mu Mu.

Mu Mu frowned slightly and said nothing.

Seeing this, Qiao Mu stepped forward.

“You said it’s less than a li from here—I know which one you mean, and it looks like there are several shops in that area.”

“Good, that’ll do.” Feng Jiu’er nodded. “Less than a li—we’ll get there in no time.”

“If I hadn’t come out for a walk, I really would have forgotten what going to market feels like.” Xiao Yingtao, catching up from behind, looked at the bustling street, her face full of delight.

“Right, I don’t even remember what it feels like either.” Qiao Mu glanced back and nodded. “What did Jiu’er say last time? Something about dog food?”

“What dog food?” Xiao Yingtao came up between Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu, glancing at Qiao Mu.

“Watching you and Xing Zizhou is like watching someone feed a dog its rations—are you going to pretend you don’t understand?” Qiao Mu said flatly.

“You’re the one who’s dog food.” Xiao Yingtao glanced at Qiao Mu again and turned back to Feng Jiu’er. “Jiu’er, how many outfits are you planning to have made?”

She didn’t want to deal with Qiao Mu anymore—this woman was always teasing her and Xing Zizhou.

“No plan in particular.” Feng Jiu’er shook her head. “Whatever catches my eye, I’ll have made—Mu Mu’s footing the bill anyway.”

“Footing the bill?” Mu Mu looked at the woman beside him with a smile. “What does that mean?”

He still hadn’t figured out how to explain “dog food,” and now there was a new phrase.

Feng Jiu’er met his gaze and said softly, “You don’t need to understand it. Just remember to pay when the time comes.”

Mu Mu nodded, asking no further questions, though the smile on his face didn’t fade.

“You and Xing Zizhou are dog food—we’re not supposed to look too much, in Jiu’er’s own words.”

Qiao Mu raised an eyebrow, withdrawing her gaze from Xiao Yingtao and turning to look back at Xing Zizhou, slowing her pace.

“Xing Zizhou, why not have your wedding clothes made at the same time, so you don’t have to make another trip?”

“If Xiao Yingtao is willing, what’s a few more trips to me?” Xing Zizhou said with a smile.

“Qiao Mu.” Xiao Yingtao turned and glared at Qiao Mu. “Stop talking nonsense, would you?”

“Am I talking nonsense?” Qiao Mu met her gaze, the corner of her mouth curving up. “And here I thought someone was calling out a certain person’s name in her sleep last night.”

“Qiao Mu.” Xiao Yingtao grew flustered, immediately slowing her steps and grabbing Qiao Mu’s hand. “Don’t talk nonsense, I didn’t.”

“She really called out his name?” Xing Zizhou looked at Qiao Mu, the smile on his face growing wider.

Held tightly by Xiao Yingtao, Qiao Mu still met Xing Zizhou’s gaze.

Just as she was about to nod, Xiao Yingtao’s voice rang out, though not loudly.

“If you dare say it, I’ll say something too.”

Xiao Yingtao’s words made Qiao Mu fall quiet.

She turned to look at Xiao Yingtao and asked in a low voice, “What would you dare say? I have nothing worth mentioning.”

Meeting her gaze, Xiao Yingtao frowned slightly. “Are you sure there’s nothing? I don’t know who it was, calling out someone’s name in a dream…”

“Fine, I’ll stop.” Qiao Mu coughed lightly, cutting Xiao Yingtao off.

Xing Zizhou was still smiling, and even without confirmation from Qiao Mu, he’d already settled the matter in his own mind as fact.

True or not, as long as he believed it was true, that was enough for him.

Xiao Yingtao glared at Qiao Mu once more and let go of her hand.

“Don’t ever talk nonsense again, or else we’ll live or die together.”

Xiao Yingtao’s voice wasn’t loud, but not only could Qiao Mu hear it—Feng Jiu’er and Xing Zizhou could too.

After so many battles fought, everyone still being together, walking and bickering through the streets, was its own kind of happiness.

Feng Jiu’er didn’t get involved in the two women’s banter; she only occasionally glanced at them, and occasionally at Jian Yi and Mu Mu.

Even just like this, her mood was unusually good—good enough that she felt a strange urge to sing out loud.

A li wasn’t far, and the group reached their destination amid all the laughing and bickering.

Several fabric shops came into view, along with many other storefronts.

The crowds on the main street grew thicker too, the place lively and bustling.

The owner of one fabric shop, perhaps having gotten word in advance, had been waiting outside the whole time.

Seeing Feng Jiu’er and the group approaching, the shop owner—who turned out to be the very tailor from before—hurried over to greet them.

“General Mu, Miss Feng, I didn’t expect you all to arrive so quickly—please, this way!” The shop owner looked at Mu Mu and Feng Jiu’er, gesturing with his hand.

Following the direction he’d come from, Feng Jiu’er spotted a fabric shop with a somewhat larger storefront than the others nearby.

In ancient times there weren’t many styles of clothing, more or less the same few designs—the main difference lay in the fabric.

“All right.” Feng Jiu’er nodded lightly and pushed Jian Yi forward.

Since she’d agreed, Mu Mu naturally had no objection, and he fell into step beside her.

No one else said anything either, simply following along.

“Brother, there are so many fabric shops here, I want to have lots and lots of new clothes made.”

When it came to excitement, no one could compare to Zhao Xiaoxiao.

Though her own handsome man was currently in another woman’s hands, for someone like Zhao Xiaoxiao, who had rarely left the stronghold, Phoenix City was simply a different world altogether.

The whole way there, her thoughts had been on every corner of the street, to the point that she’d even forgotten about Jian Yi entirely.

“Did you bring silver?” Zhao Yusheng asked quietly.

“Of course.” Zhao Xiaoxiao pulled out her coin pouch and shook it in front of Zhao Yusheng. “This is enough silver to have plenty of clothes made.”

“And if it’s not enough, don’t I still have you, Brother?”

Tucking her coin pouch away, Zhao Xiaoxiao moved closer to Zhao Yusheng and looped her arm through his.

“Wasn’t it just now that someone was saying she wanted to have clothes made for her brother?” Zhao Yusheng glanced down and shook his head.

Zhao Xiaoxiao only returned him a smile, her attention already shifting to the fabric shop they were about to enter.

“Such beautiful fabric, this is gorgeous.”