“Who really killed my third imperial brother, you know better than I do!” Feng Jiu’er stared at Chen Hong, her eyes reddening slightly.
Right now, she was supposed to be in pain.
Her third imperial brother was dead, killed by the person she trusted most—how could her heart not ache?
“Feng Jiu’er, do you truly still want him?” Chen Hong took hold of Feng Jiang’s hand.
“Nonsense!” Feng Jiu’er narrowed her eyes coldly.
“Fine. If you can heal my face, I’ll give him back to you.” Chen Hong released Feng Jiang’s hand, lips curling.
The day Jian Yi returned to her would be the day of Feng Jiu’er’s death.
Once Feng Jiu’er was dead, Jian Yi would obediently return to her side anyway—how perfect that would be!
“How do I know you’re being sincere?” Feng Jiu’er raised an eyebrow.
“Isn’t handing myself over to you sincere enough?” Chen Hong turned her head to look at Feng Jiang.
“And there’s him too. He’ll stay by my side the whole time. Isn’t your medical skill quite good? Perhaps during this time you can make him remember you.”
“Who wants you?” Feng Jiu’er rolled her eyes in disdain.
Feng Jiang was right there in front of her, yet she did not want to look at him again—as if by not looking, her heart would ache a little less.
“Don’t waste your breath. If you had a better plan, would you have come into the mountains to meet with me?” Chen Hong picked up her teacup and took a sip.
“The Empress’s army is still four or five days away. Do you really think your mere sixty thousand men can withstand my two hundred thousand troops?”
“Heh.” Feng Jiu’er curled her lips in disdain. “Miss Chen actually has two hundred thousand troops in hand—how is it I never knew?”
The people hidden all around felt sinister and unsettling, not like ordinary soldiers—it seemed Chen Hong wasn’t getting along too well with the thirty thousand Gao Family troops either.
Unfortunately, aside from Noble Consort Ya, she didn’t know anyone else from the Gao family.
“Speak. How many days are you giving me?” Feng Jiu’er raised an eyebrow.
“One day.” Chen Hong set down her cup.
“One day?” Feng Jiu’er looked at her veiled face and smiled. “Does Miss Chen think I’m some kind of immortal?”
“Don’t you know how ugly you look right now? At least three days.” Feng Jiu’er held up three fingers.
“After three days of treatment, followed by half a month of the medicinal powder I’ll prepare, your face will end up younger and more beautiful than before.”
Hearing the word “younger,” Chen Hong’s eyes lit up.
If she could become younger, perhaps Jianfei would fall in love with her again.
She would no longer feel inferior about her aging looks whenever she was with Jian Yi.
“If you can persuade the general behind you to delay the attack, send me word by carrier pigeon.” Feng Jiu’er stood and waved her hand.
“Zhao Yusheng, let’s go.”
Zhao Yusheng, cradling a sword, strode over.
Feng Jiu’er patted his solid shoulder and said softly, “Relax. She still needs something from me for now.”
“Let’s go.” Zhao Yusheng took Feng Jiu’er’s hand and turned to leave.
“Three days it is. Let’s begin the treatment now, quickly!” Chen Hong also stood and walked off.
Feng Jiu’er did not leave; she and Zhao Yusheng followed her toward a nearby grove.
Several tents had been pitched beside the grove. Chen Hong lifted the curtain and walked into the largest tent.
“Don’t try anything clever! Otherwise your sixty thousand brothers will die a horrible death.” Chen Hong sat down on the couch, staring at Feng Jiu’er.
Feng Jiu’er’s greatest flaw was her foolish compassion.
It was precisely by exploiting this that Chen Hong dared to take the risk of letting her provide treatment.
“When I’m examining you, you’d best keep your mouth shut!” Feng Jiu’er untied her needle case and set it on the table beside her.
Chen Hong’s eyes were very cold, but she said nothing more.
Not until Feng Jiu’er put away the needles did she ask, “Well?”
“The poison runs too deep. The only way is to fight poison with poison.” Feng Jiu’er took out a small bottle and held it out.
“Miss Chen, would you like to try it?”