“Where did Feng Jiang go?” Qiaomu turned, staring at Xiao Yingtao.

Xiao Yingtao blinked, letting go of her hand with a guilty look.

“He left.” Xiao Yingtao pressed her lips together, lowered her head, and pulled a letter from her sleeve.

“This is for you from him. He left in a hurry and couldn’t say goodbye in person.”

Xiao Yingtao looked up and handed the letter to Qiaomu.

“Feng Qiongcang sent many troops south — the largest force went east.”

“He rushed off to personally contact Night Prince’s men in the east. Here.”

Qiaomu snatched the letter, looked it over without opening it, and tucked it casually at her waist.

“Enough. This isn’t the time for sentimental attachments. Hua-jie, let’s sit and talk.”

Qiaomu glanced at Tang Xiaohua, ignored Xiao Yingtao, and walked straight to a seat at the front.

Seeing her settle in steadily, Xiao Yingtao patted her own chest and let out a deep breath of relief before stepping forward.

“I’m glad you’re not upset — I was so worried!” Xiao Yingtao came up beside Qiaomu and squeezed in to sit next to her.

She leaned in, bent over, and touched Qiaomu’s belly, the corners of her mouth lifting.

“Things are different now — you need to stay cheerful all the time, so the baby grows up good-looking.”

When Xiao Yingtao looked up, she met Qiaomu’s somewhat sharp gaze.

“That’s what Jiu’er said.” She scrunched her brows, her pink lips pouting slightly.

“If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself.”

Qiaomu took a deep breath and pressed down on Xiao Yingtao’s head, rubbing it.

Though there was no joy on her face, the expression wasn’t one of dislike either.

“When do we attack?” Qiaomu looked up and glanced at Feng Jiu’er.

Before the head under her palm could pull away, Qiaomu withdrew her gaze and said, eyes lowered, “The three-month deadline Jiu’er set is up.”

“I’m perfectly fine, and the baby is stable too. You don’t need to say more.”

Xiao Yingtao held Qiaomu’s hand, gently pushed it aside, and turned her head. “Jiu’er.”

“This matter — it’s your responsibility.” Feng Jiu’er tossed the line to Xiao Yingtao.

“I can’t handle it.” Xiao Yingtao shook her head. “I can’t control her!”

Feng Jiu’er raised an eyebrow, looked at Qiaomu, and found no words.

“What exactly are you two talking about?” Tang Xiaohua, who had just sat down, rapped the table.

“Isn’t it a good thing that Qiaomu is willing to come? When it comes to fighting, can you find anyone better suited to replace her?”

Xiao Yingtao shook her head, frowning. “But with her in this condition, we’re worried!”

“Xiao Yingtao, do you think you’re a match for me?” Qiaomu rolled her eyes.

Xiao Yingtao looked back at her and sighed softly. “How could I be?”

Qiaomu stopped looking at her and raised her eyes again.

“Just let her be.” Tang Xiaohua’s gaze fell on Qiaomu’s belly, and she smiled faintly, pressing her lips together.

“At this point, no one can stop her anyway.”

“Some things are simply this coincidental — just like it was for me, back then.”

“Except back then, we were just one thorn among many in Feng Qiongcang’s side. Now, the two of you are practically the number one targets he wants eliminated.”

“Hua-jie, you understand me!” The corner of Qiaomu’s mouth curved up. She withdrew her gaze and looked at the meal before her.

“Why is dinner so late tonight? Perfect timing — I’m hungry too.”

“Let’s eat first.” Feng Jiu’er glanced around at everyone, her gaze settling on one person.

“What’s wrong? Don’t even recognize your own mother anymore?”

Yue Qinchun pouted her pink lips and walked toward Tang Xiaohua.

“Is it that I don’t recognize Mother, or that Mother doesn’t recognize me?”

Despite the complaint on her lips, Yue Qinchun came to Tang Xiaohua’s side and obediently knelt.

“Mother, I missed you.”