Who didn’t know that Feng Jiu’er, in a great fire years ago, had not only had her face burned beyond recognition, but her mind burned along with it as well?

In the past, Feng Zhenhai had never had the energy to concern himself with such trivial matters — but today, having stumbled upon this, how could he possibly look the other way?

He prized his reputation above all else. His own granddaughter — a daughter of an esteemed household — had been bullied by a bastard girl. It was simply intolerable!

Though he was not particularly close to the younger generation of the Feng Family, and shared no deep affection with Feng Jiu’er either.

Yet today, seeing her innocent, simple, and guileless expression, his heart ached for her all at once.

Feng Qingyin was so frightened she trembled uncontrollably, but still could not help herself from saying: “It was… it was Jiu’er who struck first and injured my people.”

“Your people?” Those words enraged Feng Zhenhai even further.

Even the Ninth Miss didn’t have her own personal guards — yet this acknowledged Eighth Miss, a bastard-born girl, could so casually stroll out with over a dozen guards at her side?

“Wretched creature!” He glared furiously at Feng Junzhuo, his face flushed scarlet with rage: “Have I given you too much authority over Feng Manor?”

At that, Feng Junzhuo truly did drop to his knees with a heavy thud!

“Father, it is my fault, it is entirely my fault. I will punish this unfilial daughter most severely! I swear I will!”

“Father…” Feng Qingyin didn’t understand — what had she actually said wrong?

“Silence!” Feng Junzhuo shot her a sharp glare, but had no patience to deal with this daughter of his who was perpetually more trouble than she was worth.

He turned his gaze back to Feng Zhenhai, stopping just short of prostrating his forehead to the floor: “Father, please give me one more chance. I guarantee nothing like this will ever happen again!”

Feng Zhenhai let out a cold snort, but certain matters could not be delayed any further.

“Jiu’er, someone from the palace has come to see you. Come along with Grandfather.”

The palace?

Feng Jiu’er’s eyes darkened for just a moment — then, as she raised her gaze, she resumed her usual expression of innocent guilelessness: “Alright!”

Feng Zhenhai turned to leave at once, truly unwilling to let these petty, trivial matters affect his mood any further.

Feng Jiu’er followed behind him, but just before she departed, she turned back and looked at Yanu.

“Yanu, I’m going with Grandfather and will be right back. You need to go home and apply your medicine properly! And — I want to eat winter melon soup when I return. Will you make it for me?”

“Mm, mm.” Yanu nodded, managing a few muffled hums in acknowledgment, then followed the others out the door to return to his room to tend to his wounds and prepare the winter melon soup.

Once everyone had left, Feng Qingyin immediately moved to help Feng Junzhuo to his feet.

“Father, just now it truly was Jiu’er who struck first — ah!”

A sharp crack rang out — Feng Junzhuo’s palm came down hard across her face.

Feng Qingyin cried out in shock and stumbled into the chair beside her, tears stinging at her eyes from the pain: “…Father.”

“I gave you guards and a monthly allowance — was it so you could run rampant and do as you please?”

The Patriarch’s words from just moments ago had registered with him perfectly clearly.

The Ninth Miss, daughter of a distinguished household, didn’t have so much as a single guard at her side — yet this low-born bastard of an Eighth Miss was out in the streets with over a dozen guards trailing behind her!

The Patriarch was displeased with Feng Qingyin, this baseborn bastard girl, for throwing her weight around Feng Manor — and even more displeased with his own favoritism toward her.

If the Patriarch truly stripped him of his authority over Feng Manor, he would have even less of a chance in the future of ever taking control of it!

All because of this wretched girl who ruined everything!

“I told you not to touch Jiu’er during this period — why didn’t you listen!” Feng Junzhuo’s fury was unspent; he raised his hand and landed another blow. “You won’t even heed my words! What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“Father, Father — I was wrong, please stop, please — ah…”

But what use was there in putting on a performance now? All it would do was further irritate the Patriarch.