Though no one knew why the Emperor had chosen to wait until the Hour of Chen the following morning, the Empress was quite content.
“Take her to the hidden cells, under the tightest guard!” the Empress commanded coldly.
“Yes!” Two guards placed the most secure of shackles on Feng Jiu’er and hauled her to her feet.
The hidden cells — reserved for the most grievous and hardened criminals — were also designed to prevent any attempt at a prison break.
That place was not only heavily fortified but riddled with countless traps. Any attempt to break someone out was simply out of the question.
The Empress was in excellent spirits, and immediately followed after Emperor Qiwen as they departed together.
Feng Jiu’er walked behind them, shackled and watched by more than ten guards, with no means whatsoever to cause trouble.
She watched the back of Emperor Qiwen as he walked ahead. On her small, fine face, there was still not a single expression.
“When a hen crows at dawn — if it is a good hen, it may yet bring blessings. But if it harbours ambition, the dynasty crumbles!”
“Feng Jiu’er — what exactly do you mean by that?” The Empress’s face drained of colour in an instant!
This wretched, contemptible girl — she had actually used the old saying about a crowing hen to mock her, suggesting that a woman was reaching for power!
Up ahead, Emperor Qiwen’s steps faltered for just a moment, then he quickened his pace and left without looking back.
A fitting portrait of a ruler — knowing full well it was a wrongful conviction, choosing to look away simply out of cowardice before his own consort.
With a dynasty placed in the hands of a ruler like this, without able and loyal ministers and fearless generals to serve him — how many more days could that dynasty endure?
The Empress desperately wanted to turn around and kick Feng Jiu’er then and there. No one had ever dared treat her with such disrespect — Feng Jiu’er was the first, and would be the only one!
She truly had the audacity! She dared!
The matron, who had barely survived her fall and clawed her way back to standing, gently tugged at the Empress’s sleeve and whispered softly: “Your Majesty — do not complicate things further.”
The Emperor had already issued his command. Feng Jiu’er would be executed at the Hour of Chen tomorrow, and only a few hours remained until then.
Once she was put to death, it would be done. Should further complications arise and the Emperor change his mind, it would all become very difficult to manage.
The Emperor was wary of the Empress’s authority, certainly — but it was not as though she could act with total impunity at every moment.
Now was a time to let matters lie. Tomorrow, she would watch Feng Jiu’er lose her head, and that would be the end of it.
The Empress let out a sharp, cold sound of contempt, cast one last fierce glare at Feng Jiu’er, then turned and walked away.
Tomorrow at the Hour of Chen, she would be there in person — she would watch with her own eyes as Feng Jiu’er’s head fell.
Without that, there would be no easing the bitterness pressing down on her heart.
Feng Jiu’er was thrown into the hidden cells.
This place was pitch-dark in every direction — one could not see one’s hand before one’s face. True to its name, it was a sunless abyss.
The hour was unknown. Most likely the middle of the night. The Hour of Chen fell between seven and nine in the morning; the execution would probably be set for seven.
By that reckoning, the time she had left was perhaps seven hours.
Seven hours. Three and a half double-hours. Life was, in the end, so very brief.
Word of her confinement here was unlikely to spread in any hurry. It seemed that this time, she was truly going to die unjustly on the execution ground.
How had she come to this? All she had done was save someone’s life, in good faith.
Had she known that saving a life would lead to this, that day she saw Zhan Yuheng wounded — would she still have gone to his aid, without complaint and without a moment’s hesitation?
In the end, Feng Jiu’er could not help but laugh at herself.
She would save him — of course she would. The one who wanted her dead was not Zhan Yuheng. Whatever the circumstances, he was innocent in all this.
But then — who was it that had poisoned Zhan Yuheng?
On the surface, it looked very much like the Empress had orchestrated this deliberately to destroy her. But on closer thought, that didn’t quite hold together. Fierce as a tiger may be, it does not devour its own cubs. No matter how one viewed it, Zhan Yuheng was the Empress’s own son — could she truly have been willing to harm him in such a way?
After all — the poison Zhan Yuheng had ingested was deadly. The kind that could take a life within moments.
Had it been an assassin from outside who had infiltrated the palace? Or had there always been someone within the palace walls who wished to see him dead?
Who, exactly, was that person?
The news of Feng Jiu’er’s execution at the Hour of Chen the following morning spread — no one knew quite how — and in the space of a single night, it seemed the entire imperial city had come to hear of it.
When Feng Junzhuo received word, he stared in blank bewilderment, convinced he must have misheard.
“Is the information reliable?”
“Absolutely!” A servant relayed it with urgency written across his face. “Earlier, when the Crown Prince was attacked, Ninth Miss Feng was at his side in close attendance. And yet it seems Ninth Miss Feng had in fact been waiting for the opportunity to poison His Highness.”
“Now that she has been exposed, Ninth Miss Feng has been taken to the imperial prison of the Surveillance Bureau. Tomorrow at the Hour of Chen, she is to be executed!”
“But why did our Feng Family receive no word of this whatsoever?” Such a matter — surely the Feng Family would naturally be caught up in the consequences as well?
And yet the Feng Family had heard nothing at all — this was far too suspicious! Could it be that the Emperor intended to execute Jiu’er in secret?
But if it was to be a secret execution, why had the news erupted so suddenly and so widely that even their own servants knew of it — while he, the master of Feng Manor, had not caught the faintest whisper?
And furthermore — attempting to assassinate the Crown Prince was an offence severe enough to implicate nine generations of one’s family. Could it truly be that nothing at all would happen to the Feng Family?
He couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t understand what the Emperor meant by any of this.
Not holding the Feng Family responsible spoke of imperial magnanimity. But if the intention was a secret execution, why had the news become so widely known?
And now that it was widely known, it was impossible for the Feng Family to remain as still as this. Could it be that the news had not come from the Emperor at all?
“Father!” Not far away, Feng Qingyin came hastening over in the company of her maidservant. “Father, have you heard? Jiu’er — she…”
“I’ve heard!” Feng Junzhuo’s expression was deeply troubled. Right now, who could tell him what he was supposed to do?
“Father, Jiu’er is to be executed. What will become of our Feng Family? Could we be dragged into this as well?”
Feng Qingyin was genuinely alarmed by now. Though all of this had aligned, in the strangest of ways, with her own plans — she had never imagined things would become this serious.
If the Emperor and Empress wished to kill Feng Jiu’er, they could simply do it on the spot. Why bother with all this ceremony of an execution at the Hour of Chen?
Now that everyone knew, and Ninth Miss Feng of the Feng Family was to be put to death while the Feng Family itself showed not the slightest reaction — how would people view them?
Feng Junzhuo didn’t know what to do either. Should he perhaps go and report to his father first?
“My lord! My lord, something terrible has happened!” From ahead, a servant came sprinting over in frantic haste, face aghast, so breathless he could barely breathe!
At the sound, Feng Junzhuo’s legs buckled, and his entire body lurched straight toward the ground.
“Father!” Feng Qingyin and the servant at his side moved swiftly, catching him before he fell.
“We’re finished — the Feng Family is finished!” Without even waiting for the servant to reach him, Feng Junzhuo was already so overcome with panic that he could barely stand.
“Has an imperial edict arrived? This is it — we’ve truly been dragged down by that wretched girl!”
Attempting to assassinate the Crown Prince — this was absolutely the sort of crime that would implicate nine generations. The Feng Family was done for. He was completely and utterly finished!