“Master.” Outside, a young manservant came running in.

“Master.” He entered the main hall and knelt on the floor below.

“What’s all this frantic rushing about?” The steward glanced back. “Can you not see we have guests?”

Just now, the master had shown no sign of refusing, so the steward had naturally assumed he was willing to accept treatment — and that, by extension, the physicians were honoured guests.

“Master, Lord Lei has arrived. They have already come through the gate.” The manservant raised his eyes toward the figure on the main chair.

“Steward Yang, take the guests to the inner hall to wait.” Bao Lei’s voice came out low and slightly hoarse.

“Yes, Master.” The steward nodded, took a couple of steps back, and made a beckoning gesture.

“Physician Long, this way, please. Gentlemen, Miss — please follow me.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced once at the man on the main chair, gave a light nod, and fell into step behind the steward.

Xiao Yingtao gave Qiao Mu a tug, and only then did Qiao Mu draw her gaze away from Bao Lei.

The three of them followed behind Feng Jiu’er, walking with the steward toward the inner hall.

Bao Lei gave a small wave of his hand, and the three wives who had been pressing themselves close to him all rose, offered a slight curtsy, then turned and departed.

As the manservant escorted the three wives out, Lei Shenbao came striding in through the entrance, two people following at his heels.

“Lei, how are you — nothing serious, I hope?”

Feng Jiu’er, separated from them by only a single wall, heard the voice and slowed her pace. She nudged Xiao Yingtao with her elbow.

Xiao Yingtao understood at once. She took the small medical box from Feng Jiu’er and quickened her steps, moving up alongside the steward.

“Steward Yang, do you have a moment? If you do, let me go over the follow-up care your master will need — what do you say?”

“Of course I do. Certainly.” The steward nodded vigorously.

“Come along then.” Xiao Yingtao threw out the words and picked up her pace.

The two of them walked together into the inner hall. Feng Jiu’er, Qiao Mu, and Jian Yi stayed behind in the rear hall.

“Thank you for your concern.” Bao Lei’s voice drifted in from the front hall.

The volume was not loud, but with the inner force the people in the rear hall all possessed, they could hear it with perfect clarity.

In the front hall, Bao Lei had just risen from the main chair when Lei Shenbao waved a hand at him.

“Sit down quickly. There’s no need for such formality with me.”

Lei Shenbao took a seat nearby, and only then did Bao Lei settle back down into the main chair.

“Lei, you worked hard today.” Lei Shenbao shook his head with a helpless wave.

“That Lang Yu has been far too pleased with himself. You and Sun Da Bao lost the first match so thoroughly — he will certainly show up tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, let him see our true strength.”

Lei Shenbao went on gloating from the other side of the wall. Listening to his words, Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu tightened their fists until their fingernails were nearly biting into their flesh.

No wonder Bao Lei had lost so utterly today. It had been Lei Shenbao’s scheme all along.

Thinking of that three-to-four-hundred-catty pig of a man having pressed her Third Imperial Brother to the ground, the killing intent deepening in Feng Jiu’er’s eyes grew ever more dense.

“As long as you’re all right, I’ll take my leave.” Lei Shenbao chatted for a little while longer before standing up and turning to go.

Only when she could no longer sense anyone else’s presence did Feng Jiu’er stride out of the rear hall with purpose.

Qiao Mu and Jian Yi followed close behind.

Once Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu were standing again in the main hall, Jian Yi moved to the entrance of the hall and pulled the main doors shut.

From the doorway leading out of the rear hall, Xiao Yingtao appeared within everyone’s line of sight.

She gave Feng Jiu’er a meaningful look. Jian Yi, standing guard at the main doors, gave a light cough.

Satisfied that it was now safe to speak, Feng Jiu’er drew a deep breath and stepped toward the man on the main chair.

Bao Lei had said nothing the entire time. Even when someone drew close and stood beside him, he made no move whatsoever — he did not so much as glance at Feng Jiu’er.

A soft ripping sound, and the thin human-skin mask was peeled from his face. A handsome countenance appeared before them all.

Though it too was mottled with black and blue bruises.

Feng Jiang reached for the teapot and poured himself a cup of tea.

With a sharp crack, the cup in his hand was knocked from him by Feng Jiu’er and sent smashing to the floor.

“Why?” she asked, her voice cold.

“A mission,” he replied softly.

“Whose orders?” Her voice fell again.

“You don’t need to know.” He reached for the teapot once more.

“Father has gone missing.” She gripped his human-skin mask tightly in her fist, sinking down to kneel beside him.

The man’s movements stiffened slightly. He closed his eyes briefly, then poured out another cup of tea.

But he did not drink it. Instead, he held the teacup out before Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er looked at him, then accepted the cup and drained it in a single breath.

She set the cup down and clasped his large hand, rising to her feet. “Whatever else may be the case, let me look at your injuries first.”

Feng Jiang did not refuse. He rose and followed Feng Jiu’er toward the rear hall.

“The steward has fallen asleep.” Xiao Yingtao trailed behind them. “I used a fragrance. When he wakes, he’ll only blame himself for not being able to stay alert — it won’t cause any trouble.”

If Xiao Yingtao said it was fine, Feng Jiu’er had no worries at all.

She knew full well what her people were capable of.

Along one side of the rear hall stood a door. Feng Jiu’er slowed her steps, glancing at that door.

Feng Jiang gave a slight nod. She took his hand and led him over, then pushed the door open.

Feng Jiu’er and Feng Jiang walked inside. Qiao Mu did not pause either. Xiao Yingtao passed the medical box to Qiao Mu, then took up her post at the door, pulling it shut behind them.

The room was not large — a bookshelf lined with volumes along one wall, a bed beside it, and an open platform to one side, clearly meant for practicing martial arts.

Feng Jiu’er swept a glance around the room to confirm the space was safe, then took Feng Jiang by the hand and pushed him down onto the bed.

In today’s match, Feng Jiang had thrown only a handful of feigned attacks at the very start. After that, he had barely even defended himself, and he was covered in wounds from head to toe.

His face, his neck, his clothing, even his fingers — all were streaked with blood, a sight distressing to behold.

Feng Jiang had only just returned, and Feng Jiu’er had brought people over so quickly that he had not even had the chance to change his clothes.

“Jiu’er, let me wash up first.” Feng Jiang had barely lain down before he was already trying to sit back up.

“Is there water in the bathtub?” Feng Jiu’er pressed down on his arm, not allowing him to rise.

“Yes.” Feng Jiang nodded.

“Qiao Mu, go fetch a basin of water.” Feng Jiu’er leaned forward and began untying the laces of Feng Jiang’s outer robe.

“Jiu’er.” Feng Jiang closed his hand around hers.

Feng Jiu’er pushed his arm aside and continued undressing him.

Qiao Mu, who had not spoken a word this whole time, carried a nearby basin of water to the bedside. By the time she arrived, Feng Jiu’er had already peeled away a good portion of Feng Jiang’s clothing.

Only then could Qiao Mu see clearly just how many wounds this man carried on his body.

New ones and old, external injuries and internal damage — too many to count.

She gripped the basin tight, forgetting what she was supposed to do next.

Feng Jiu’er’s own breath grew heavy at the sight of Feng Jiang’s battered body.

She closed her eyes and drew a long, slow breath. Then she took his hand and placed her fingers on his pulse.

“Qiao Mu, clean his wounds.”

That girl must be suffering even more than I am.

Hearing Feng Jiu’er’s words, Qiao Mu gathered herself, set down the basin, and got to work.

“Jiu’er, I can manage on my own.” Feng Jiang was not accustomed to being tended to by women.

Jiu’er was his imperial younger sister — he had accepted that. But Qiao Mu… it did not feel quite right.

“Lie still!” Feng Jiu’er shot Feng Jiang a look. “You have three wives and are about to become a father — and now you’re getting shy?”