“Kill them all, kill—” Before the guard captain could finish shouting, a figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere right in front of him.

The newcomer’s aura was so powerful that it sent his sleeves and long hair fluttering.

The guard captain locked eyes with Di Wu Ya, his eyes going wide, but before he could even blink, Di Wu Ya’s sword had already sealed his throat.

Qiao Mu’s arm had been slashed, and in a moment of distraction, several long swords thrust toward her at once.

Feng Jiu’er arrived just in time and swept away everyone surrounding Qiao Mu.

She landed beside Qiao Mu, quickly tore a strip of cloth from her own clothing, and bound up Qiao Mu’s wound.

The two women exchanged a glance, and Qiao Mu’s lips curved up slightly.

“Feng Jiu’er, getting to know you—this lifetime was worth it!”

The words had barely left her mouth before Qiao Mu, gripping her silver dragon-tongue spear, continued fighting.

Feng Jiu’er held her long sword and fought shoulder to shoulder with her.

“Brothers, hold on a little longer—our reinforcements will be here any moment!” Feng Jiu’er took a deep breath and shouted.

“Yes!” All the brothers within earshot responded loudly.

Even facing an army of thousands, with wounds piling up on their bodies, not a single face showed fear.

Feng Jiu’er had prepared medicine for everyone in advance, and before the fighting began, everyone had taken a pill capable of neutralizing a hundred poisons.

Although the medicine might not be able to withstand the lethal poison coated on arrowheads, at the very least it could protect the heart meridian, so anyone struck by an arrow wouldn’t succumb to the poison instantly.

Time was truly running short—Feng Jiu’er could only hope the people outside would break through soon.

Suddenly, screams rang out all around, and a number of black-robed men were struck down.

Feng Jiu’er couldn’t see who was attacking, but she could tell for certain that the black-robed men really were under assault.

Had they broken through?

The black-robed men fell one after another, and the twenty-odd people trapped in the battle circle felt as though they’d glimpsed a ray of sunlight in the dead of night.

Outside the palace, two forces converged and rapidly pressed toward the inner grounds.

One force wore the uniforms of the Dragon-Guarding Army, led by Zhan Luori.

The other force was dressed plainly, indistinguishable from ordinary commoners, and its leader was likewise a plainly dressed man.

The man was tall, with handsome, refined features that rivaled, if not surpassed, Zhan Luori’s.

He was none other than Feng Jiu’er’s uncle, the master of the First Manor Under Heaven, Long Buqu.

In the blink of an eye, the two forces had entered the palace and were locked in fierce combat with the troops inside.

Those trapped inside didn’t know what was happening outside, but at least they knew reinforcements had arrived.

Everyone finally saw a glimmer of hope and fought on with renewed vigor.

The sounds of fighting outside gradually drifted in, and many of the brothers had already pushed deep into enemy ranks, drawing closer.

“Everyone hold on—our reinforcements are here! To hold on is to win!” Feng Jiu’er shouted.

“Yes!” Even brothers who had fallen got back up and kept fighting.

Ambushed, the black-robed men were forced down from walls and rooftops one after another.

Out of the corner of her eye, Feng Jiu’er caught sight of a familiar face, and the corner of her mouth couldn’t help but lift.

“Jiu’er, reinforcements are here.” Standing on a rooftop eave, Nanmen Xu waved at Feng Jiu’er.

Around him stood a number of men in black, each armed with a weapon.

Nanmen Xu gave Feng Jiu’er a faint smile, then swept his gaze over the people below and shouted, “Reinforcements have arrived—the imperial family is saved!”

“The true Di Wu Ya is our Ninth Prince, Zhan Qingcheng—not the Eighth Prince! Zhan Lingtian is an impostor emperor. He belongs to the Zhan family, not the Di family!”

“The Ninth Prince has returned! The true orphaned heir of the Di clan has returned! Ninth Prince Di Wu Ya has returned!”

“This realm belongs to the Di family, to the Ninth Prince! Whoever continues to attack the Ninth Prince commits the grave crime of regicide!”

“All Imperial Guards, all Dragon-Guarding Army soldiers, stop at once! The sovereign you are meant to protect is the Ninth Prince—he is the true Di Wu Ya! Stop immediately!”

The moment Nanmen Xu’s voice rang out, the soldiers froze in shock, and the fighting within the ranks gradually began to subside.

Outside, Zhan Luori’s and Long Buqu’s forces kept streaming in, surrounding the majority of the people there.

“Are you all planning a rebellion?” Suddenly, a voice charged with internal energy rang out from within the crowd. “They intend regicide—they are traitors!”

“Quick! Kill them now!”

The man was using ventriloquism, so for a moment no one could tell which direction the voice was coming from.

But Feng Jiu’er was already looking toward the black-robed men, her crescent brows furrowing slightly.

“No!” Nanmen Xu loudly retorted. “The true Di Wu Ya is Zhan Qingcheng, our Ninth Prince.”

“The one the Retired Emperor intended to pass the throne to was also Zhan Qingcheng, the true Di Wu Ya. You have all been deceived.”

Nanmen Xu’s voice was loud and clear; even those standing farther away could hear him distinctly.

“The true Di Wu Ya is our Eighth Prince, don’t—” Before the man could finish, he suddenly let out a scream of agony.

Almost no one saw how Feng Jiu’er got there, but by the time everyone reacted, two more figures had appeared on the rooftop.

Clad in silver armor, Feng Jiu’er stood not far from Nanmen Xu, gripping a black-robed man nearly twice her size by the collar.

“Nanmen Xu speaks the truth! The true Di Wu Ya is Zhan Qingcheng, our Ninth Prince—not Zhan Lingtian.”

Standing high above, Feng Jiu’er swept her gaze over the crowd below, her voice no less resounding than Nanmen Xu’s.

Even those who didn’t know her could tell that this woman’s internal power was far beyond what an ordinary person could possess.

“All of this is the scheme of Empress Dowager Ning—including the rebellion back then, and the massacre of the entire Di family. It was all her doing.”

“For years, Empress Dowager Ning schemed relentlessly so that her son, Zhan Lingtian, could become emperor. That is how today’s situation came to be.”

“As for the details, if Empress Dowager Ning is still alive, let her explain everything to all of you herself.”

The moment Feng Jiu’er’s words fell, Di Wu Ya, dragging a figure with him, leapt up and sprang toward her.

The restrained black-robed man suddenly raised his head, and a spray of silver needles shot from his mouth, aimed straight at Feng Jiu’er’s neck.

Feng Jiu’er’s crescent brows furrowed, and she instantly raised her long sword.

The poisoned needles struck the blade and ricocheted back, lodging themselves in the black-robed man’s eyes.

At once, the man’s anguished scream tore through the night sky.

With a casual flick of her wrist, Feng Jiu’er tossed the burly man into the air—and as he fell, his neck happened to pass right across the edge of her blade.

The scream cut off abruptly. With a thud, the black-robed man, his throat severed, crashed to the ground and never rose again.

“Playing needle tricks against me—you’re still too green for that.” Feng Jiu’er glanced down at the black-robed man she had just “tossed aside.”

Standing on a nearby eave, Jian Yi watched the slightly mischievous woman, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly.

Moments earlier, he had seen the black-robed man attempt a trick and had leapt up right after Di Wu Ya, closing the distance quickly.

Only after realizing Feng Jiu’er was already prepared did Jian Yi land a short distance from her.

He stood quietly to the side, not interrupting in the slightest.