Leng Xuepiao glanced once more at Yu Jingfeng, then turned her eyes back to Feng Jiu’er.

It was as if, in this world, Feng Jiu’er was the only person she trusted.

“Jiu’er, am I really better?”

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded again. “Haven’t you noticed, these past few days, you’ve been talking more?”

“You’ve also learned to care about people, to care about things — that’s all a sign you’re recovering.”

“Xuepiao, tell me, have you been happy these past few days?”

Leng Xuepiao composed herself and nodded. “Happy!”

“Then do you still feel you’re ill now?” Feng Jiu’er went on.

Leng Xuepiao thought it over, her crescent brows knitting slightly again.

“I…” she shook her head, “I don’t know.”

“You really are better now,” Feng Jiu’er said, letting out a small breath of relief. “Xuepiao, you’re truly well now.”

“From now on, talk to everyone more about what’s on your mind. Whatever troubles you, you can share it with us, and you’ll be happier for it.”

“All right.” Leng Xuepiao drew her hand back from Yu Jingfeng’s grasp and stood up.

“Jiu’er, thank you!”

“Xuepiao.” Still kneeling, Yu Jingfeng gazed pleadingly at his wife-to-be.

Why hadn’t she said yes yet? Surely she wasn’t still unwilling?

Feng Jiu’er was also curious for Leng Xuepiao’s answer, wondering just what had happened between the two of them the night before.

She studied little Xuepiao, who stood a touch shorter than herself, and the corner of her mouth curved up.

“It’s fine — just follow your own heart. We’ll always be on your side.”

Leng Xuepiao nodded and turned her head to look at Yu Jingfeng.

“Once you don’t look so fierce anymore, I’ll marry you.”

With that remark tossed out, Leng Xuepiao walked off.

“Don’t think too much about it. Nothing happened between us last night — you can forget about it too.”

Leng Xuepiao felt light in her heart, and her steps grew brisker as she walked.

Jiu’er said she was better, completely better — she really was well now.

Perhaps she ought to thank Yu Jingfeng. Jiu’er said it was all thanks to him.

Yu Jingfeng could be considered her benefactor; given the chance, she would definitely repay him.

And so Leng Xuepiao walked off, her steps lighter than anyone had ever seen.

The other women watched her, all pleased on her behalf.

The poor man still kneeling on the ground stood and watched her leave, utterly helpless.

Once Leng Xuepiao had left the chamber, Feng Jiu’er finally withdrew her gaze and turned to Yu Jingfeng.

“Big Yu, why don’t you go get a bit of work done?” Miss Feng offered kindly.

Yu Jingfeng pulled his sorrowful gaze back and looked at Feng Jiu’er.

“Miss Jiu’er, what do you mean, ‘work’?”

“A makeover.” Feng Jiu’er raised an eyebrow.

Big Yu looked rather adorable right now; she badly wanted to kick him while he was down and have a laugh at his expense.

But then again — what if Big Yu actually cried?

Never mind, she’d spare him this once; the duck that had been cooked had flown the coop — how could he not be upset?

“A makeover?” Yu Jingfeng looked ready to weep without tears. “Xuepiao says my eyes are fierce, my nose is fierce, even the corners of my mouth are fierce — how am I supposed to fix that?”

“Figure it out yourself.” Feng Jiu’er tossed off the remark and left.

If it weren’t for the fact that he’d “slept with” Xuepiao, she might have offered a few more words of comfort.

Regardless, letting an unmarried woman stay out all night — the man deserved some kind of punishment for that.

Leng Xuepiao had gone, and now Feng Jiu’er left too; Xiao Yingtao didn’t linger either.

As for Qingqing and Xiaotian, standing in the chamber, they didn’t leave right away.

“Lord Yu, weren’t you a bit too rough with Xuepiao?” Qingqing asked with a smile.

“Right, Xuepiao doesn’t like fierce men,” Xiaotian nodded in agreement.

“Lord Yu, if you were gentler, it would be fine — you’re so outstanding, Xuepiao is bound to like you.” Qingqing was still smiling.

She truly couldn’t help herself.

Whether it was Xuepiao’s recovery or Lord Yu’s endearing awkwardness, both made her want to laugh.

“That’s right, that’s right, Lord Yu, be gentler,” Xiaotian added, laughing behind her hand.

“Don’t worry, don’t be discouraged!” Qingqing waved a hand. “Lord Yu, we’ll be going now.”

“Don’t worry! Whatever happens today, if Xuepiao doesn’t mention it, neither will we.”

“Lord Yu, honestly, you’re very outstanding — just be a little gentler.” Xiaotian nodded firmly. “Don’t lose heart.”

The two of them left with a few words of encouragement.

If they lingered any longer, they were a little afraid this fierce-looking Lord Yu might lose his temper.

Seeing Leng Xuepiao’s condition improve considerably, Feng Jiu’er made a few changes.

She had Leng Xuepiao travel up front with the main group as well, hoping to give her and Yu Jingfeng more time together.

And so the company split and moved west in groups, with Feng Jiu’er’s party in the very front.

They carried little with them, traveling light, moving at their fastest pace toward Yongshan City.

But just as they were about to reach Yongshan City, grim news arrived.

After nightfall, the group stopped in a town nearest to Yongshan City, within Li City’s borders.

Zhao Yusheng took the letter delivered by a messenger bird and strode into Feng Jiu’er’s chamber.

“Jiu’er, something has happened to the Duan family.”

“What’s the situation?” Feng Jiu’er set down her teacup and stood.

Zhao Yusheng opened the letter and handed it to Feng Jiu’er.

“It’s a letter from Duan Liuyang. She says a group of armed men came to her home and killed her parents and younger brother.”

Feng Jiu’er took the letter, looked it over, and raised her eyes to meet Zhao Yusheng’s.

“Could it be Lei Ming? Lei Shenbao’s lieutenant?”

“I had the same thought,” Zhao Yusheng nodded. “Sun Yishi is dead; only Lei Ming remains at large.”

“Perhaps he really has fled to Yongshan City.”

“Where is Duan Liuyang now?” Feng Jiu’er gripped the letter tightly and sat back down.

She had never seen Duan Liuyang’s handwriting, but she had seen Duan Wucheng’s.

This letter’s handwriting resembled Duan Wucheng’s by about sixty percent, with more of a woman’s gentleness to it — it was likely genuinely written by Duan Liuyang.

If Duan Wucheng really had died, Feng Jiu’er would feel great regret over it.

The pressing matter now was whether Duan Liuyang was still safe — if not for the fact that she had all but drained Duan Wucheng’s troops, he wouldn’t have died.

At the very least, she had to protect the daughter of this former lord of Yongshan City.

“Jiu’er.” Just then, Xing Zizhou also strode in.

“A brother says a beggar-looking man delivered a letter.”

Before Xing Zizhou finished speaking, he had already reached Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er took the letter and read it carefully.

“It’s Lei Ming.” She sighed softly. “Lei Ming says Duan Liuyang is in his hands, and wants me to trade Lei Shenbao for her.”

“What?” Xing Zizhou’s eyes went wide. “How could Miss Duan be in Lei Ming’s hands?”

“That’s not all.” Zhao Yusheng turned to him. “I just received a letter by messenger bird, signed by Duan Liuyang herself.”

“She says her whole family was killed by armed men.”

Xing Zizhou frowned and clenched his fist tightly.

“I never expected Lei Ming to have gone to Yongshan City.”

He looked up at Feng Jiu’er and offered comfort. “Jiu’er, you don’t need to blame yourself over this.”

“It was Lord Duan himself who had you take her with you, and you even left him three thousand troops of your own accord.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

—