They walked for the better part of the night.

Not until dawn, with still no pursuers behind them, did Feng Jiu’er finally find a spot to let everyone stop and rest.

Feng Jiu’er took off all the food she carried on her and distributed it among the injured brothers.

The brothers looked at their almost immortal-like Miss Jiu’er, and one by one, the light returned to their eyes.

Most of them had been poisoned and, after brutal interrogation, were injured no lightly.

When Feng Jiu’er had rescued them, she’d given each of them an antidote, along with medicine to strengthen their bodies.

They had all believed they would never make it out alive, yet now, the sky was brightening again, and they were once more seeing the rising sun.

Qiao Mu also brought out everything edible she had and shared it among everyone.

“Thank you, Miss Qiao.”

“Thank you, Miss Jiu’er!”

“Thank you!”

“Thank you!”

The rescued brothers understood clearly — if not for them, Miss Jiu’er and the others might have already headed back, with no need to suffer here.

There wasn’t much food left, and the water was nearly gone too.

Feng Jiu’er took the pulse of two or three of the more seriously afflicted brothers, then took out pills and had them swallowed.

She stood and looked toward Xing Zizhou.

“Xing Zizhou, go with the others and see what food you can find nearby. Qiao Mu and I will go check the situation around here.”

“All right.”

Xing Zizhou also stood up. “Jian Yi, take good care of Jiu’er and Qiao Mu.”

Jian Yi, standing with his sword held to his chest, gave a slight nod without a word.

Feng Jiu’er gently patted the shoulder of the brother nearby, exchanged a glance with Qiao Mu, then stood and turned to walk the other way.

They were now on a mountainside, and the piercing sounds of fighting made it clear the battle raged not far below their feet.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiao Mu climbed steadily upward, with Jian Yi close behind the two of them.

Arriving at the edge of a thicket, the two women lay down and raised their binoculars.

Jian Yi remained sword in hand, keeping watch behind a low bush nearby, doing his best to conceal himself.

“Jiu’er, our people have broken through.”

Seeing this, Qiao Mu’s mood lifted somewhat.

Neither of them had expected that by taking a different route to leave, they’d be able to see the situation below so clearly.

They weren’t far from the battle zone, and even if Feng Jin’s men caught up with them now, their chances of returning safely were still good.

Feng Jin had led his men searching for two hours and, unable to find anyone, had no choice but to withdraw.

He still had over twenty thousand men, and his position was advantageous. He had never imagined the people inside would break out.

Was it really all for Feng Jiang’s sake?

Even though Feng Jin found it hard to believe, it had become fact regardless.

The endless stream of troops pouring out of the city made Feng Jin realize he had been careless.

He had thought that with Feng Jiang alone, those people would only be putting on a show of bravado — he never expected the fighting to grow this fierce.

Feng Jiu’er lay there, watching intently for a good while, then raised her head and blew a whistle.

Soon, a messenger bird that had followed them the whole way landed on the grass before her.

Feng Jiu’er took out paper and pen and quickly sketched a picture, adding two lines of writing that ordinary people wouldn’t understand.

She rolled up the letter, picked up the messenger bird, tucked the letter into the tube on its leg, and gently tossed it into the air.

Qiao Mu paid her no mind, continuing to watch the enemy camp.

She knew it was hopeless, but she still hoped to catch sight of that familiar figure.

The valley was vast, and from where they were, they could see at least half of it.

But the distance was still too great — even with the magnifying lens, all she could make out were figures as small as ants.

Feng Jiu’er turned to glance at her, then shifted back and stood up.

She moved to a few different spots, observing the situation carefully each time, before returning to Qiao Mu’s side.

“Hey.”

She patted Qiao Mu’s shoulder. “You won’t find him. Let’s go back.”

“Besides, I don’t think my Third Imperial Brother is that foolish. My father is his life — and isn’t Qiao Mu his life too?”

“In this life, he hasn’t yet tied the knot with you. He wouldn’t be willing to let anything happen to himself.”

Qiao Mu set down the binoculars, turned, and lay back on the gently sloping grass, closing her eyes to rest.

“I will definitely bring him back!”

This was the first time since Feng Jiang’s departure that she’d mentioned him and still managed to sound composed.

Feng Jiu’er turned and lay down too.

“I believe it’s fate — my Third Imperial Brother is destined to be with you, Qiao Mu.”

Seeing the dawn again, Feng Jiu’er swept away the gloom in her heart.

She had already lost so much, and had come to understand one truth.

Only by staying alive could there be any hope.

She understood this. Surely Third Imperial Brother understood it too, and surely Father did as well, didn’t they?

They had lived their whole lives with clear consciences — the happiness that belonged to them would surely come back!

After resting a while, the small group continued onward.

After nightfall, they finally reunited with their own people.

The letter sent that morning had explained their situation, and the brothers who came to meet them brought not only food, but also stretchers and medicine.

The close-quarters fighting, which had lasted a full twelve hours, finally came to a stop.

Di Wuya had led his army and driven Feng Jin’s forces all the way to the riverbank before halting the assault.

Feng Jiu’er and the others made it safely back to camp.

Di Wuya’s letter soon fell into Feng Jin’s hands.

By now, the entire remaining force of Feng Jin had gathered in the latter half of the valley.

In his tent, Feng Jin gripped the letter tightly, and with a hard twist of his hand, crushed it to ash.

“Eldest Prince, we still can’t find the Third Prince.”

The soldier kneeling on the ground trembled violently.

“So many men, and you couldn’t even keep watch over one poisoned man?”

Feng Jin asked coldly.

“Eldest Prince, spare me! Eldest Prince, spare me!”

The soldier kept knocking his head against the ground.

In the span of a single day, they had fallen into this state, and Feng Jin’s heart was filled with resentment.

Elsewhere, once the fighting had stopped, the soldiers began setting up camp.

They had spent the previous night sleeping on the bare ground, but surely their lord couldn’t be left without even a place to sleep.

Everyone who had gone out had returned, and they’d even brought back the dozen or so captured brothers.

Everyone gathered together to eat, their faces all rather cheerful.

“It’s all thanks to the letter Miss Jiu’er sent back — letting us know the enemy’s weakness. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have driven them out so quickly.”

Yu Jingfeng, eating dried meat and drinking hot porridge, wore a broad grin.

“That’s right.”

Long Shiyi was pleased too. “I thought it would take at least three days.”

“It really should have taken seven or eight days, but with the Prince here, I figured three would do.”

Di Wuya took the porridge handed to him and drank a sip, his eyes lowered toward the little wife in his arms.

Feng Jiu’er held a piece of dried meat up to his lips.

Driving Feng Jin all the way to the riverbank in just twelve hours — the speed truly exceeded her expectations.

“Qiao Mu, don’t worry, I personally delivered the Prince’s letter myself. There’s no way Feng Jin can refuse to release him now.”

Yu Jingfeng said smugly.

It had been so long since he’d had this much fun in battle — he ate his dried meat and white porridge with the same gusto as someone gulping down mutton and wine.