“Foolish!” Qiao Mu had no teacup at hand, or else she truly would have thrown it at him.

“Jiu’er, a man this hopelessly foolish isn’t worth wasting your time on.”

“Knowing full well it’s the wrong path and walking it for nineteen years wasn’t enough—now you want to walk it for the rest of your life!”

“Qiao Mu.” Yang Sheng raised his eyes to look at Qiao Mu. “I’m sorry!”

His life had been saved by her; he couldn’t bear to see her disappointed in him.

“Do you know why Jiu’er wanted to see you alone?” Qiao Mu glared at Yang Sheng. “She values you as someone of talent, and she also cherishes how loyal and devoted you are.”

“But clearly, you’ve disappointed us greatly!”

“Yang Sheng, if we had a way to save your parents, would you turn away from darkness and toward the light?” Feng Jiu’er asked, raising an eyebrow.

That Lei Shenbao was a villain, the whole world knew. If Yang Sheng abandoned Lei Shenbao and came over to their side, that would certainly count as turning toward the light.

“Jiu’er, do you really have a way to save my parents?”

Yang Sheng looked at Feng Jiu’er, and his fine eyes regained a touch of life.

“There’s a way—it’s not that there isn’t one—but no one can guarantee it.” Qiao Mu said flatly.

“If we sacrificed our own brothers just to save your parents, Jiu’er wouldn’t be able to face their families afterward.”

“Yang Sheng, you know what kind of people we are—don’t keep clinging to this stubborn delusion.”

Qiao Mu was worried about what Feng Jiu’er might do otherwise.

To storm the city and rescue people at a time like this—how could that possibly be easy?

“Besides, if you die, can you really guarantee your parents will live long and well?” Qiao Mu furrowed her brow.

“Setting aside whether Lei Shenbao would even spare them—they only have you as a son. If you die, their remaining days won’t be easy ones.”

Yang Sheng fell silent after being lectured by Qiao Mu.

“Yang Sheng.” Qiao Mu called out again, looking at his silence. “Well?”

Yang Sheng raised his eyes to meet Qiao Mu’s gaze and drew a deep breath.

“Can I know what’s really going on with all of you? And Master Bao—he’s truly a prince?”

Yang Sheng knew this was sensitive, classified information—not something they would easily reveal. But he wasn’t even afraid of death anymore, so there was nothing left he couldn’t ask.

“He really is a prince. We’re trying to rescue the Night Prince—the Night Prince was captured by Feng Qiongcang.”

Qiao Mu’s words came out easily, as if there were no outsider in the room at all.

Her gesture moved Yang Sheng deeply. He really had been a fool—knowing all along that Lei Shenbao was no good, yet still following his orders for his parents’ sake. Aside from refusing to kill or commit arson, Yang Sheng had carried out nearly every order Lei Shenbao gave. For Lei Shenbao, for his fellow soldiers, he had given almost everything he had. And in the end, he’d still become a discarded pawn.

“Is the Night Prince truly missing?” Yang Sheng composed himself and asked softly.

“Absolutely true—or why else would we be going through all this trouble?” Qiao Mu rolled her eyes at him.

“Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat.”

“No need.” Yang Sheng shook his head.

He thought Master Bao, though cold, was actually a man of loyalty and feeling. The time he’d spent with Qiao Mu and Feng Jiu’er had been the happiest of his life. He never imagined they would end up enemies. He never imagined either that, even after becoming their prisoner, they would still genuinely care about him.

A low growl from his stomach gave away his lie.

“Jian Yi, go have the brothers bring in some buns,” Feng Jiu’er said, glancing at Jian Yi.

It seemed Yang Sheng was still willing to listen to Qiao Mu. She had her own selfish reasons—not wanting to lose this talented man—but more importantly, if these seven thousand guards didn’t surrender, they would simply be waiting to die.

These were all living, breathing lives. Feng Jiu’er couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bring herself to let that happen.

Jian Yi nodded, stood, and walked out.

Qiao Mu rose as well and walked toward Yang Sheng. Seated in his chair, Yang Sheng saw her approaching and stood up immediately.

He was grateful to this woman, admired her—whether there was even a trace of affection in it, he himself wasn’t sure. But even if there were, that thread of feeling had been strangled in its cradle the moment he learned about Qiao Mu and Master Bao. He wasn’t worthy of such a perfect woman.

“Sit.” Qiao Mu rolled her eyes at the man taller than herself.

Yang Sheng blinked and sat back down.

Qiao Mu glanced at his hands, and Yang Sheng immediately raised his shackled wrists. Seeing she meant to unlock them, he murmured a warning. “Qiao Mu, this isn’t proper!”

“Nothing improper about it.” Qiao Mu had his wrists free in moments, then crouched down in front of him.

“Qiao Mu.” Yang Sheng, who hadn’t pulled his hands back in time, shifted his legs away from her touch.

“Don’t be so fussy—we were never enemies to begin with.” Qiao Mu was utterly unbothered, and without the slightest hesitation, took hold of his ankles.

Click, click—two sounds, and Yang Sheng’s legs were freed as well.

“If you still can’t make up your mind, we’ll lock them back up after dinner. Ugh, what a hassle.”

Qiao Mu tossed out the remark and returned to her seat. Now free, Yang Sheng watched her for a long moment before sitting back down.

Jian Yi had barely been gone the blink of an eye before he returned. Soon after, a brother brought in a bowl of porridge and several buns.

Qiao Mu glanced at the brother and gave him a look. He understood at once, set the food aside, and left.

“Eat,” Qiao Mu said to Yang Sheng, voice flat.

“Qiao—”

The moment Yang Sheng opened his mouth, Qiao Mu cut him off.

“I said—eat first, talk later!”

Seeing that Qiao Mu seemed to have a way with him, Feng Jiu’er didn’t intervene further. She had plenty of her own matters to attend to. Jian Yi returned to Feng Jiu’er’s side, and Feng Jiu’er glanced at him once before the two of them began going through documents together.

Yang Sheng watched Qiao Mu a while longer, then glanced over at Feng Jiu’er and Jian Yi, now busy with their work, before turning to sit at the low table to the side. He picked up the steaming bowl of porridge, composed himself, and drank it down in large gulps. A full bowl of porridge and five or six large buns disappeared into his stomach in no time.

Once his stomach was full, Yang Sheng wiped his mouth, stood, and returned to kneel in his earlier spot.

“Many people say the true heir of the Feng line is the Night Prince—it’s practically an open secret in the Black Pool Earth Vein.”

“Truth be told, I don’t like His Majesty either, and I despise much of what Master Lei does.”

“But I was born into the Lei family—simply put, the Lei family raised me.”

“To betray Master Lei would be disloyal; to fail to protect my own parents would be unfilial; to disappoint the one who saved my life would be unrighteous.”

“Miss Jiu’er, what use could I—a man who is disloyal, unfilial, and unrighteous—possibly be to you?”

Feng Jiu’er could see the conflict tearing at him. This boy’s nature wasn’t bad—he’d simply been born in the wrong place.

“First,” Feng Jiu’er said, looking at him with great patience.

“You believe you owe Lei Shenbao a debt of gratitude. But have you ever considered how much you’ve done for him, all these years?”