The guard figured he was doomed no matter what he did. After taking a deep breath, he timidly lifted his head.

“Reporting to the town chief, this was an imperial order. This lowly one had no choice but to comply.”

“Insolence!”

The town chief roared. “I am the law in this place! How dare any of you try to stop me!”

Several guards wanted very much to remind the town chief of something, but it didn’t seem like the right moment.

They could only kneel there, heads bowed low, saying nothing.

“Get out of my way! I come and go like this every single day. What imperial order? I’ve never been afraid of one!”

The town chief bellowed again.

The crowd knelt there in silence, neither speaking nor making way.

The town chief was truly furious now. As he pulled the curtain aside and stepped down from the carriage, a sword had somehow appeared in his hand.

Everyone heard the sound of the blade’s tip scraping against the ground and couldn’t help but look up.

“Town chief, please don’t!”

The guard kneeling at the very front—the one who had taken Xing Zizhou’s gold—immediately covered his head with his arms.

With a swish, the town chief’s sword slashed across his arm.

Then the town chief began hacking wildly at the men before him.

“You pack of worthless scum! You’ve received so much kindness from me over the years, and today you’ve grown the gall to defy me?”

The town chief shouted as he swung his blade.

The guards scrambled and stumbled, trying to dodge.

Finally, someone—no one knew who—shouted, “General Lei is here!” and the town chief lowered the sword in his hand.

Clang.

He turned and looked at the man seated on horseback, his legs going weak beneath him, nearly collapsing to his knees.

The next day, another crowd knelt at the gates of Xixi City.

Among them was the town chief, his face deathly pale.

And there too knelt the group of injured guards, still stained with blood.

The commoners, who had long swallowed their anger without daring to voice it, felt a measure of comfort at last, seeing this scene.

Three days later, in one of the Fenglan Inn branches in Luoyang City, Feng Jiu’er received a letter from Owner Yuan.

She looked at the letter, a delighted smile spreading across her face.

Qiao Mu, beside her, asked, “What’s got you so happy?”

“Owner Yuan says the town chief has been removed from his post, and grain prices in Wutong Town have dropped considerably.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced over at her.

“That General Lei, said to be so upright he has no friends, is now stationed in Wutong Town, staying for the time being at the very inn we once stayed at.”

“Tomorrow we set off for Fenglai West City—are you nervous?”

“Not nervous!” Qiao Mu shook her head, gazing through the window at the distance.

Feng Jiu’er studied her for a moment, then pressed her lips together. “I’m quite nervous, myself.”

The next day, they followed the Fenglan Inn staff, moving steadily eastward through Luoyang City.

Their excuse was a routine inspection of the inn branches, but in truth, it was simply to draw closer to the city’s northeastern gate.

The one leading Feng Jiu’er and the others away was a young man arranged by Owner Yuan.

With this young man’s help, Feng Jiu’er didn’t need to reveal to every single shop that she was one of the Empress’s people.

They stayed in Luoyang City for a full seven days before leaving through its northeastern gate and entering Fenglai West City.

On the third day after entering the city, Qiao Mu finally saw the man she had been longing for.

Feng Jiang, posing as a merchant, was staying at a residence outside Fenglai West City.

That day, he took his leave of his host, along with a few attendants, and moved into Fenglan Inn.

At night, Feng Jiang walked into one of the side rooms.

Feng Jiu’er, Qiao Mu, Gong Xinyue, Gong Xing’er, and Duan Liuyang were all there.

Qiao Mu saw the tall figure enter and stood up.

Feng Jiu’er turned to look, and she too stood.

She scurried over to shut the door, then scurried back.

“Father is nearby—have you gone to see him?”

“Mm.” Feng Jiang withdrew his gaze, nodded, and swept his eyes across the room again.

“Is everyone doing well?”

“We’re all doing fine.” Gong Xinyue pushed Qiao Mu forward, toward him.

“Well, there is one person who’s not doing so well—lovesick for days on end, hasn’t spoken much.”

Qiao Mu frowned, shook off Gong Xinyue’s hand, and stopped in her tracks.

“I have not.”

Feng Jiu’er lightly patted her own shoulder in a teasing gesture, then walked toward Qiao Mu.

He came to stand before her, extended his large hand, and took hers.

“I have.”

Feng Jiang gently gripped Qiao Mu’s arm, studying her carefully for a moment.

“You’ve gotten thinner!”

The moment the words left his mouth, he gave a light tug, pulling her into his embrace.

“Qiao, come, let me take you somewhere.”

Qiao Mu drew a deep breath in his arms and nodded.

The corner of Feng Jiang’s mouth curved up slightly, and he led Qiao Mu outside.

“Brother.”

Feng Jiu’er called out in a deliberately sweet, childish voice.

Feng Jiang stopped in his tracks. She met his eyes and blinked her fan-like lashes.

“Brother, can Jiu’er come too?”

Feng Jiang shook his head, gently refusing. “Not tonight. You girls have fun—I’ll see you all tomorrow!”

With that, he left with Qiao Mu, walking off without a hint of hesitation.

The girls left behind in the room watched the departing pair with unmistakable envy.

Feng Jiu’er pouted, turned, and walked back.

“Favoring his woman over his little sister, hmph!”

Just as the door to the room closed, laughter burst out from within.

Feng Jiang led Qiao Mu away from Fenglan Inn to a place called Half-Mountain Inn.

Soon, the two of them appeared by a window upstairs.

Qiao Mu sat in a tall chair, her elbows resting on the windowsill, her hands cupping her face as she gazed out at the night.

Feng Jiang brought over a plate holding several kinds of cut fruit.

He set the plate on the small table in front of Qiao Mu, then bent his long legs and sat down beside her.

“Qiao, I cut this fruit myself—try some.”

No sooner had he spoken than Feng Jiang used a clean bamboo skewer to pick up a piece of fruit and bring it to Qiao Mu’s lips.

Qiao Mu glanced down, then opened her mouth to accept it.

She looked out at the night, slowly chewing the fruit in her mouth.

Feng Jiang watched her profile, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, but he didn’t disturb her.

Once she’d swallowed the piece, he offered her another.

And so it went, with Feng Jiang feeding Qiao Mu more than half the plate of fruit.

At some point, when yet another piece of fruit approached her, Qiao Mu didn’t open her mouth as before—instead she turned her head to look at him.

“Are you planning to feed me until I’m full of nothing but fruit?”

Feng Jiang set down the skewer, his long arm reaching down to wrap around Qiao Mu’s slender waist.

He held her close, and together they looked out at the distant night scene of mountains, water, moonlight, and lanterns.

“Will you miss the life at the mountain stronghold?”

Qiao Mu lifted her eyes, studying the man’s firm jawline.

As if sensing her gaze, Feng Jiang lowered his eyes, bent his head, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Qiao Mu pressed her lips together and looked away.

“No.”

She shook her head. “As long as I’m with everyone, it doesn’t matter where we go.”

“Then do you prefer the bustling capital, or a quiet village?”

Feng Jiang asked softly.

“Of course it would be best to have both—quiet, yet also enjoying the conveniences that come with a bustling place.”

“Life is all about the mundane necessities. I’ve had my fill of hard days. A life of scheming and constant power struggles doesn’t suit me either.”

Qiao Mu sighed softly, then continued, “So I’ve been wondering—why on earth would I choose an imperial prince?”

“A straightforward brawl over a disagreement, no problem. But if it’s scheming and conspiracies every single day, how dull!”