The man reached out and gently pinched the blade.

He had no martial arts skill, but he wasn’t afraid, because he had long ago set aside thoughts of life and death.

“I’m just a lowly ant scraping by. I really don’t know what the hero is talking about.”

Feng Jiu’er’s brows knit slightly, and she withdrew her blade.

“Fine! I’ll ask you one question now. All you need to do is nod or shake your head.”

Their eyes met. The man gave a light nod.

Feng Jiu’er took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes slightly, and asked, “Back then, did the Late Emperor die of illness, or was he killed by Feng Qiongcang?”

“The latter.”

The man paused for a moment, then flatly tossed out those two words.

He straightened his back and pulled at the bed curtain.

The curtain fell, cutting off the two of them from each other’s sight.

Just as Feng Jiu’er came to her senses and was about to speak, the man’s voice drifted over from the bed.

“I never actually served in the palace. Back then I secretly hid in a cart, following my father into the palace to deliver vegetables, and ended up hearing something I shouldn’t have.”

“That very night, the Late Emperor passed away, and my family was slaughtered by men in black — of five family members, only I survived.”

“I had nowhere to go, so in the end I never left the capital.”

“Once things gradually settled down, I found this temple. I knew Feng Qiongcang had set up the Great Mercy Stele here, and I knew he would eventually appear.”

“Unfortunately, thirty years have passed, and I still don’t dare to act.”

“You should go. Take the Night Prince and leave!”

“Whatever you do, don’t tell the Night Prince about this. The Feng Clan already belongs entirely to Feng Qiongcang — staying here means only death!”

The side room fell silent. Feng Jiu’er turned back and glanced at Qiao Mu.

The two of them turned at the same time and walked outside.

“Take care of yourself!”

Feng Jiu’er left those words behind and closed the door of the side room.

In an instant, three shadowy figures vanished from the temple, and all around fell into a stillness, as though no one had ever been there.

…On the fourteenth of the seventh month, the entire nation was holding ancestral worship ceremonies, and even the Emperor was no exception.

It was the grandest day of worship, once a year.

When the auspicious hour arrived, inside and outside the imperial mausoleum, tens of thousands of people knelt before Heaven together.

The scene was magnificent.

After the ceremony, it took a full hour or more for the crowd to fully disperse.

At the Night Prince’s manor, Han Ying and Feng Li sat together eating their midday meal.

“My lord, now that you’ve recovered, would you like to go out for a walk with me today?”

Han Ying set a piece of food into Feng Li’s bowl.

Feng Li set down his chopsticks and picked up the square cloth beside him to wipe his mouth.

“This king is full.”

He tossed out that one line and stood.

Han Ying immediately rose and caught hold of the hem of his robe.

“My lord, it’s been a full fifteen days. Just how much longer do you intend to avoid me?”

Her words carried a fierce possessiveness.

Feng Li shook off Han Ying’s hand and coldly reminded her, “Please have some self-respect.”

Han Ying instead seized his wrist directly, blocking his path.

“I am your wife, yet you keep avoiding me. My lord, how am I supposed to have self-respect?”

“So many years have passed — can it be that you still can’t forget that person?”

“My lord.”

Han Ying’s brows knit. “The only one who can save you right now is me, Han Ying. Do you understand that?”

“If it weren’t for me, His Majesty would have…”

“This king needs no one’s help!”

Feng Li tried again to shake Han Ying off.

But Han Ying clung to him tightly and would not let go. “Feng Li, I’ve been utterly devoted to you, yet you keep ignoring me. Today, I will…”

“Your Highness.”

He Zhongnan ran in and knelt on the ground.

“My lord is in a poor mood today. Please forgive him, Your Highness!”

“I forgive him — but who will forgive me?”

Han Ying flung her sleeve.

The gust of force from her sleeve sent He Zhongnan sprawling to the ground.

“Get out!”

Han Ying gave a cold snort. “Today, I will absolutely have you fulfill your duty as a husband.”

Those outside heard the commotion and rushed in as well.

Following close behind were the female guards who served Han Ying.

Seeing the scene, everyone dropped to their knees.

“Your Highness, please forgive us. It was these ignorant people who insisted on barging in.”

The lead female guard spoke.

“Get out!”

Han Ying released Feng Li and glared furiously at those who had entered.

“Your Highness, if you truly wish to accompany my lord outside, that’s not actually impossible.”

He Zhongnan said.

“In truth, my lord has arranged to meet Master Wuchen of Dawei Temple, to go to the imperial mausoleum.”

“My lord only wished to go alone to keep his late father company, which is why he didn’t tell Your Highness about it.”

“This is the first thing my lord has wanted to do since returning to the capital. Please grant him this, Your Highness!”

Han Ying took a deep breath, and the chill surrounding her slowly began to dissipate somewhat.

She turned back, looked at Feng Li, and asked, “You want to go to the mausoleum again?”

“Mm.”

Feng Li gave a slight nod.

Though it was just a single syllable in response, for Han Ying, that alone was no small thing.

Han Ying’s brows knit, and she waved a hand. “Go and make arrangements. I will accompany my lord there.”

“Yes.”

The female guard who had spoken earlier cupped her hands in acknowledgment.

“Don’t let anyone find out about this!”

Han Ying added.

“Yes.”

The female guard stood and cupped her hands again.

Feng Li said nothing and strode off.

His men also stood and followed him out of the main hall.

Han Ying watched that tall retreating figure, her expression growing colder still.

“Your Highness.”

The last remaining female guard cupped her hands toward her.

“His Majesty has ordered Your Highness to watch the Night Prince’s every move. Now that the Night Prince is going to the mausoleum, are you really not going to report it to His Majesty?”

“Not for now.”

Han Ying flicked her sleeve, her gaze sharp.

“Has there still been no news at all from the palace?”

The female guard stood and shook her head. “None.”

“It’s been a full fifteen days since the wedding, and still no word of Feng Jiang or Feng Jiu’er — how is that possible?”

“Reporting to Your Highness, this servant was thinking — perhaps the Third Prince and Fourth Princess never returned to the capital because the Night Prince wouldn’t let them.”

“After all, anyone could see this is a trap.”

“Their not appearing isn’t good news for His Majesty, but it isn’t bad news for Your Highness either.”

“The Night Prince may avoid the first of the month, but he can’t avoid the fifteenth — besides, Your Highness has done so much for him. Sooner or later he’ll come to understand Your Highness’s feelings.”

“He won’t.”

Han Ying shook her head, pacing back and forth.

“The Third Prince has never had much of his own opinion. For him to openly defy His Majesty now must mean that dead girl is behind it.”

“That dead girl’s husband is the king of the Bei Mu Kingdom — no ordinary man.”

“At this moment, more than half the people of the Black Pool territory have already submitted to those two. Even a blind man could see what that dead girl is scheming!”

“But…” The female guard’s brow furrowed, and she composed herself.

“Fifteen days have passed, and His Majesty has only captured a handful of old officials trying to win over the Night Prince. There’s still not a shred of news about the Third Prince or the Fourth Princess…”

“Your Highness.”

Outside, another female guard ran in.

The newcomer knelt in the hall, raising with both hands a rolled letter.

“Your Highness, this is news that’s come from the palace.”

Han Ying raised an eyebrow. The female guard who had been discussing matters with her a moment ago stood and went to receive the letter.

The female guard waved a hand, and the one who had entered stood, turned, and left.