The guards who had been lured away by Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu sensed something was off and stopped chasing, hurrying back instead.

By the time they returned to the cave entrance, many of the guards who had been drugged had already woken up.

Some were standing, others still sitting on the ground.

“What happened?” someone asked.

“No idea.” Many shook their heads.

The returning guards rushed into the cave to check, only to find that nothing inside had changed at all.

“What in the world happened?”

“Don’t know.”

“Not sure.”

“Should we get the city lord to come take a look?”

“Right, let’s go report to the city lord.”

“Hurry, go report it!”

Before the mountain guards could make it back, the Duan family—the household of Yongshan City’s lord—welcomed a distinguished guest.

The neighboring city of Li, whose lord Lei Shenbao had brought his troops right up to the gates of this small city, had Duan Wucheng at his wits’ end.

Then, unexpectedly, word arrived that the Third Prince had come from the capital.

Yongshan City lay south of Songjiang, still a small city. Over the years, few officials had ever passed through, let alone a prince.

The moment Duan Wucheng got the news, he rushed home in a hurry.

By the time he arrived, the guest had already been shown inside by the steward.

The Duan estate in Yongshan City was no small place.

Compared to the Lei residence in Li City, the gap was not just large—it was enormous.

The Duan estate backed onto the mountains, with good surroundings and fresh air.

The interior decor, however, was unexpectedly simple, even worn.

Was this really the city lord’s home? Aside from a courtyard somewhat larger than an ordinary household’s, what else was there?

“My lord, it’s the Third Prince.” The steward saw his master return and hurried out to meet him.

“Good, I understand. Quickly, prepare tea, the best leaves we have.” Duan Wucheng waved a hand without breaking stride.

“My lord, it’s already prepared, no need to rush, don’t… my lord.”

Duan Wucheng was in such a hurry that he tripped over the threshold on his way in.

The steward rushed over and caught him.

“My lord, are you alright?”

Duan Wucheng looked up at the figure seated in the place of honor, took a deep breath, smoothed his robes, and continued forward.

“Greetings to the Third Prince,” Duan Wucheng said, kneeling in the hall.

“This humble servant Duan Wucheng greets the Third Prince.”

He cupped his hands before lifting his head. “I did not know of the Third Prince’s arrival and have been neglectful—I beg the Third Prince’s forgiveness.”

Duan Wucheng was indeed Duan Langyu’s father; the two shared a notable resemblance.

The most striking similarity was their skin—fair, rosy, and lustrous.

If the Duan family had a daughter, one could almost guarantee she would be a beauty.

“Rise.” Feng Jiang, having resumed his own appearance, looked at the man kneeling in the hall and waved a hand.

“Yes, Third Prince.” Duan Wucheng stood after his bow.

“Third Prince, what brings you to my humble home?”

“To be frank, I’ve come for the sulfur.” Feng Jiang’s expression was blank, his voice cold.

His mood, it seemed, was not good.

The woman sitting not far from him propped her chin on one hand, eyes fixed unblinkingly on him, as if she could never tire of looking.

He really was good-looking!

Qiao Mu kept licking her lips, just short of drooling.

Feng Jiu’er, sitting across from her, watched her and held back with all her might—if she hadn’t been pinching her own thigh, she might have burst out laughing.

Miss Qiao, could you read the room a little? This was supposed to be a serious moment, wasn’t it?

Still, Feng Jiu’er knew perfectly well that Miss Qiao wouldn’t care in the slightest what she thought.

Well, fine—she had someone who doted on her, so she could do as she pleased.

“Third Prince.” Duan Wucheng, who had just stood, knelt down again.

“Third Prince, I know about the sulfur. I should have reported it to the court, but…” Duan Wucheng wiped his forehead.

“These past years, the court has nearly forgotten this Yongshan City of mine. For the sake of the people, I had no choice but to…”

“Third Prince, this servant knows his crime!”

The sound of his head striking the floor echoed through the hall as Duan Wucheng kept kowtowing.

“Third Prince, concealing the sulfur from the court was my decision alone, and has nothing to do with anyone else.”

“If anyone is to be blamed, blame me alone—none of this concerns anyone else!”

“Third Prince.” The steward knelt down beside Duan Wucheng.

“Third Prince, my lord did all this for the sake of the people. If you don’t believe it, you may investigate—see what my lord has done for the people all these years.”

“Third Prince, please spare my lord. If he keeps kowtowing like this, I’m afraid…”

“Third Prince, please set my lord aside for now and hear what this servant has to say—there will be time to pass judgment after.”

“Third Prince, this is my fault. Please do not blame anyone else,” Duan Wucheng said, still kowtowing forcefully.

“This has nothing to do with anyone in Yongshan City. Punish me alone.”

“Enough.” Feng Jiang waved a hand. “Lift your heads and speak.”

“My lord.” Hearing this, the steward rushed over to stop Duan Wucheng.

“Oh no, my lord, you’re bleeding, you…”

“I’m fine.” Duan Wucheng cut off the steward and looked at Feng Jiang.

“As for the sulfur, I knew it couldn’t be hidden much longer, but I truly had no other choice.”

“I won’t hide it from the Third Prince—this year, Yongshan City’s crops failed badly. The letters we sent to the court vanished without a trace, like stones dropped into the sea.”

“The grain stores in the city are barely enough to feed the people through this year. If next year’s harvest doesn’t improve, I’m afraid…”

“Yongshan City isn’t large, but it still has tens of thousands of people. I cannot watch them starve in the streets.”

“What do you plan to do with all this sulfur?” Feng Jiu’er looked at the man in the hall, who didn’t seem like a bad person, and raised an eyebrow.

Duan Wucheng’s gaze shifted, meeting Feng Jiu’er’s eyes.

“I planned to make gunpowder, trade it for silver. With the silver, the first thing I’d do is carry out the water conservancy project we’ve planned for years.”

“Only by controlling the water source can the crops stop alternating between drought and flood, year after year.”

“Besides the water project, I also planned to reinforce the city walls.”

Duan Wucheng pressed his lips together, sighed softly, and looked up at Feng Jiang.

“These past years, Li City, Pingyuan City, and even Xiang City, which barely borders us, have all had their eyes on us.”

“A few years back, Li City and Pingyuan City joined forces to attack Yongshan City. If Yue City hadn’t sent reinforcements, we wouldn’t have survived.”

“I’ve governed this place for over twenty years. Though I’ve accomplished little, I never wanted the people to suffer too much.”

“You’re saying the lord of Yue City sent you support?” Feng Jiu’er asked in a low voice.

She remembered—back when they had fled the capital, they had passed through that area on the way to Yue City.

But they hadn’t stayed, and she had no deep impression of the place.

“Yes.” Duan Wucheng looked at Feng Jiu’er again. “It was Yue Jianfei, the lord of Yue City.”

“Back then, he personally led three thousand elite troops to support us.”

“Today…” Duan Wucheng sighed once more.

“Today, word came back that Lei Shenbao of Li City has brought his troops to our city gates. This battle, I’m afraid, can hardly be avoided.”