Two quarter-hours later, Feng Jiu’er and her group, bringing Chen Hong with them, arrived at Squire Lei’s estate.

The two hills burned the previous night were the very hills Squire Lei used to grow medicinal herbs.

Squire Lei was wealthy and influential, with wide connections, and had gotten word early that the war would reach here.

So he had packed up his household and fled ahead of time, leaving the estate empty.

This place had thus become the temporary residence for Feng Jiu’er’s group in Huangsong Village.

Fortunately, it was quite spacious and could hold a fair number of people.

The moment Feng Jiu’er entered the courtyard, Yang Sheng, having received the news, hurried back in a rush.

“Jiu’er.” Yang Sheng called out softly and quickly halted.

Feng Jiu’er hadn’t even entered the hall yet — she stopped right in the courtyard and turned to look at Yang Sheng.

“What’s the situation?”

Yang Sheng caught his breath and said, “The fire’s basically out, but as you worried, in case it flares back up, we still have quite a few brothers stationed on the hill.”

“And the herbs?” Feng Jiu’er’s anxious voice rang out again.

“About half of them burned.” Yang Sheng replied.

“How much is left?”

“There’s still a batch, but not quite enough.” Yang Sheng’s breathing had finally steadied enough for him to stand straight while speaking.

He’d been running just now, and after stopping, he’d stayed slightly bent over, gasping for breath.

“But I heard the brothers say there should still be time to replant. Having some is better than having none,” Yang Sheng added.

“How many people did we lose?” Feng Jiu’er glanced, somewhat heavily, at the woman tied to the back of the horse.

“Eighteen brothers.” Yang Sheng’s mood turned heavy as well.

“And more than a dozen houses burned down. Thirty-one villagers died.”

All of it, because of those drugs.

Feng Jiu’er closed her eyes, a sharp pain stabbing at her heart.

Jian Yi reached out and took her small hand.

Feng Jiu’er opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“You understand now that there’s still a lot you need to do, don’t you?”

“In this world, there are plenty more people like Chen Hong. We can’t eliminate them all, but when we encounter one, we can’t let it go either.”

“Mm.” Jian Yi nodded.

Feng Jiu’er withdrew her hand from his grip and gently patted the back of his hand.

“Come with me on an errand later.”

She wanted Jian Yi to have plenty to do, so he wouldn’t have time to let his thoughts wander.

Now was exactly the time they needed manpower — there was no shortage of things to do, so even if the great hero Jian Yi wanted to sit idle, it wouldn’t be easy.

Feng Jiu’er led everyone up the back hill to snuff out the last embers, gather herbs, and clear wasteland in preparation for replanting.

She and Jian Yi also went to comfort the villagers whose homes had been damaged and whose family members had lost their lives.

Only once it grew dark did they finally leave Huangsong Village, bringing Chen Hong and the herbs with them, and return to the far bank of the river.

Back at their original location, Feng Jiu’er still didn’t rest.

They handed Chen Hong over to Yue Jianfei and his wife, then took the herbs to the pharmacy.

The other two kinds of herbs had also been brought back.

With all the materials on hand, they prepared to begin their first attempt at compounding the medicine.

Everyone worked busily until well past midnight before dispersing.

Feng Jiu’er told everyone to go rest and come back early the next morning, and quite a few people left.

“Jiu’er, I’ll head off first then.” Xiao Yingtao finished tidying her things and stood up.

“I’ll go too.” Yue Qinchun stood, closing her book.

Today, she too had gained a great deal.

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded without lifting her gaze. “Go ahead.”

Xiao Yingtao and Yue Qinchun were about to leave, but their eyes landed on the quiet Leng Xuepiao.

“Xuepiao, what are you doing?” Xiao Yingtao asked, frowning slightly.

“Right.” Yue Qinchun blinked, puzzled as well. “Why aren’t you leaving yet? You keep staring at Jiu’er.”

Hearing the two of them, Feng Jiu’er looked up and, sure enough, met Leng Xuepiao’s gaze.

She composed herself, as if suddenly remembering something.

“Right, Xuepiao — Yu Jingfeng is back, but he’s injured. I’ve told him to rest and recover for now.”

“Don’t worry, there’s no danger to his life, but he shouldn’t lift anything heavy for the next few days — it’ll be a while before he can come help grind medicine again.”

“He’s… hurt?” Leng Xuepiao stood up, a flicker of urgency crossing her eyes.

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded — how had she overlooked this?

She stood up and stretched.

“Let’s go, I’ll take you to see him, and change his dressing while we’re at it.”

Leng Xuepiao nodded without another word.

Feng Jiu’er hurriedly gathered her things, hoisted her small medicine chest, and left with the group.

Of course, Jian Yi, who followed her everywhere, wasn’t left behind either.

Chen Hong had had her meridian points sealed with silver needles — for now she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t hear.

But this couldn’t be sustained too long. Once too much time passed and her inner energy gradually recovered, keeping her under control would no longer be easy.

When they returned to the courtyard on the other side, Xiao Yingtao and Yue Qinchun both went off toward their own rooms.

Following behind Feng Jiu’er, besides Jian Yi, only Leng Xuepiao remained.

Feng Jiu’er knocked on the door of Yu Jingfeng’s room, pushed it open, and walked in.

Hearing the sound, Yu Jingfeng sat up in bed.

“Miss Jiu’er, you’ve come?” He looked at Leng Xuepiao and asked.

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded. “Take off your clothes, I need to change your dressing.”

Yu Jingfeng looked at Leng Xuepiao a moment longer before coming back to himself and looking at Feng Jiu’er.

“Is that really necessary? Miss Jiu’er, wasn’t the medicine just applied this morning?”

“It’s needed.” Feng Jiu’er walked over and set the medicine chest on the small cabinet beside the bed.

Before Yu Jingfeng could say anything else, Leng Xuepiao walked straight to the bedside, sat down, bent over, and pulled off her boots.

Watching her do this, both Yu Jingfeng and Feng Jiu’er were somewhat stunned.

And Leng Xuepiao, quite naturally, took off her boots and climbed onto the bed, settling into the spot beside Yu Jingfeng.

“Let me undress you.” She reached out and pulled at Yu Jingfeng’s clothing.

Yu Jingfeng lowered his eyes to look at the woman so close to him, nearly forgetting to breathe.

By the time he finally managed to react, Leng Xuepiao’s small hands had already landed on the cord of his robe and given it a tug.

Yu Jingfeng sat there stiffly, watching the woman in his arms strip his clothes off.

A chill ran through his body as he realized his entire upper body was now bare.

Yu Jingfeng swallowed audibly, wanting badly to ask his “wife” why she didn’t mind another woman seeing his body.

Right! He truly did have a wife now, didn’t he?

His wife had just helped him change — this feeling was simply too wonderful.

“Lie down.” Leng Xuepiao wrapped her arms around Yu Jingfeng’s uninjured arm and pushed downward.

But Yu Jingfeng was too sturdy; she couldn’t budge him.

Snapping back to awareness, Yu Jingfeng promptly went obediently along with the force of her push and lay down.

Leng Xuepiao leaned in, wanting to help undo the bandages on his body, but found she couldn’t quite reach.

Without much thought at all, she swung one long slender leg over and straddled Yu Jingfeng.

This position…

Yu Jingfeng’s body instantly went rigid beyond rigid.

Watching all this, Feng Jiu’er silently hoped to herself:

Please don’t let his wound split open, Big Brother Yu, or it’ll be quite the trouble!

But with Xuepiao in this position, could any man really withstand it?

—