A carriage raced down the main street and finally came to a stop in front of an inn.

Before the driver could even climb down, a slender, fair-skinned hand lifted the carriage curtain from within.

A woman dressed entirely in red leapt down from the carriage.

She wore red garments embroidered all around with colorful trim, her long hair wrapped up in a red, lace-trimmed headscarf that left only her small face exposed.

Her skin was smooth as congealed cream, her bearing as delicate as an orchid in seclusion—breathtakingly beautiful beyond compare.

Had she not come here, Feng Jiu’er would never have known just how different the local clothing was from that of the Kingdom of Bei Mu.

The garments of this country carried a faint flavor of minority ethnic dress, yet weren’t quite the same either.

Strangest of all were the local customs—she’d heard that here, the favoring of men over women was even more severe than in Bei Mu.

A woman who dressed improperly, or who was inconsiderate or unfaithful toward her husband, could be sentenced to punishment.

All of this was information Yu Jingfeng had gathered through inquiry, and Feng Jiu’er had already heard it secondhand.

The moment Feng Jiu’er stepped down from the carriage and glanced around, before she could even speak, a muffled cough sounded from within the carriage.

She turned back to look at the lowered curtain, her brow furrowing slightly, and stepped closer.

Yu Jingfeng, dressed in gray, climbed down from the carriage, looking at Feng Jiu’er with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

Feng Jiu’er paid him no mind and went back herself to lift the carriage curtain.

“My lord, please.” She called out softly, her voice unusually gentle.

Who knew whether what Yu Jingfeng had learned was even true? What kind of godforsaken place sentenced women just for not being gentle enough?

Newly arrived and unwilling to court trouble, Feng Jiu’er, however much she scorned the local customs, could only swallow her pride for now.

And to think she’d been told it was such a wonderful country—when in fact it didn’t even treat women as people. Feng Jiu’er didn’t like this place one bit.

If things here were truly as Yu Jingfeng had described, then once she found her father, she would simply take him and leave.

From within the carriage, a large hand emerged and took hold of Feng Jiu’er’s small one.

A tall man stepped down from the carriage with long, graceful legs.

He wore blue garments; aside from the main color differing from the woman’s beside him, the design was otherwise identical, even down to the matching headscarf.

No matter where Di Wu Ya went, he could never quite conceal that air of sovereign majesty about him.

At this moment, the headscarf gathered up every strand of his dark hair, yet it did nothing whatsoever to diminish his good looks.

His fair skin put many women to shame, and his strikingly handsome features looked as though they had been carved by some divine, masterful hand—exquisite beyond compare.

Even with his cold, aloof bearing that seemed to push everyone away, those who caught sight of him couldn’t help but stop in their tracks.

Feng Jiu’er looked up at the tall, otherworldly figure before her, his looks so striking that words could hardly do them justice, and her mood instantly brightened.

Since he was so perfect, what harm was there in being a little gentler toward him?

Feng Jiu’er gave a small cough, pulled her gaze away from Di Wu Ya’s devastatingly handsome face, and looped her arm through his.

As she turned, she only then noticed just how much attention her man had already drawn in such a short span of time.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at the women whose gazes were anything but pure, then turned and shot Yu Jingfeng a glare.

These women, ogling another woman’s man so brazenly—shouldn’t they be the ones sentenced to punishment?

No sooner had Yu Jingfeng handed the carriage off to someone than he felt a wave of icy chill.

By the time he turned around, Feng Jiu’er had already pulled her gaze back to the handsome man on her arm.

“My lord, let’s head inside first—you must be hungry too.”

Di Wu Ya merely nodded, and the women nearby seemed unable to bear it any longer, murmuring amongst themselves about who knew what.

Feng Jiu’er genuinely wanted to report them to the authorities—surely a good number of these women already had husbands? Staring at another man like this was clearly being unfaithful to their own husbands, wasn’t it?

Why hadn’t the officials come yet, to arrest every last one of these women ogling another man?

Having her own man stared at left Feng Jiu’er thoroughly displeased.

When had she become so petty? Perhaps it was from this past month or more of drifting at sea.

During that month at sea with no other women around, Feng Jiu’er had come to feel that this man belonged entirely to her, and no one else was allowed even a glance.

Yet no sooner had they come ashore than these women were staring unblinkingly at her man—Feng Jiu’er was thoroughly displeased.

Her man mattered a great deal, of course, but right now there was something even more important at hand.

Feng Jiu’er, arm linked with Di Wu Ya’s, walked into the inn with graceful steps and headed upstairs.

Yu Jingfeng and the innkeeper walked ahead and opened the door to a private room.

Once Feng Jiu’er stepped inside the room, she glanced up at Yu Jingfeng.

Yu Jingfeng understood at once and turned immediately to the innkeeper. “You may leave now.”

“Yes, my lord.” The innkeeper bowed his head, turned to leave, and shut the door behind those inside.

With no outsiders present, Feng Jiu’er immediately released Di Wu Ya’s arm and headed further into the room.

Inside, a large table was laid out with a full meal and all manner of fruit.

At the sight of the colorful array of fruit, Feng Jiu’er could hardly be bothered with anything else.

“All of you come have some fruit too, quick! It’s been over a month without fresh fruit or vegetables—if we don’t eat some now, we’ll get scurvy.”

In an instant, several figures appeared—atop the rafters, behind the screen, outside the window, in front of the door.

Seeing that Di Wu Ya hadn’t spoken up against it, Long Yi gave a slight nod.

Taking that as their cue, everyone stepped forward toward the large table in the center of the room.

“Miss Jiu’er, what exactly is scurvy?” Long Shiyi came over with a smile, picked up a piece of fruit and took a bite before sitting down.

The moment Feng Jiu’er reached the table, she picked up a bunch of grapes and began popping them into her mouth one by one.

“Scurvy is a very serious illness. Once you actually get it, it’s hard to cure. Basically, going without a certain nutrient for too long will make you sick.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced up at Long Shiyi, then looked around at everyone and waved a hand.

“Quick, eat some fruit first—doesn’t matter what kind, just eat. Everyone needs to eat some.”

“No wonder Miss Jiu’er had us prepare fruit the moment we came ashore—turns out not eating enough fruit can make you sick too.” Long Yi sat down and picked up a banana.

The others gradually took their seats as well.

Having heard that failing to eat fruit could lead to an incurable disease, how could Yu Jingfeng dare to delay?

The table was large, but the Twelve Flying Dragon Riders were each tall and broad, and those too slow to get there found there were no seats left.

Still, everyone made their way over to grab some fruit and obediently began munching away.

Except for Di Wu Ya, everyone present held their favorite piece of fruit in hand.

Glancing first at Di Wu Ya and then at Feng Jiu’er, everyone’s expressions began to shift.

Did this mean the Prince would rather get sick than eat, if Miss Jiu’er wasn’t the one feeding him?

Feng Jiu’er had already polished off most of a bunch of grapes, her gaze now landing on a vividly colored peach.

She licked her lips and reached out to pick up the largest peach—clearly, she had completely forgotten about one very important person.