That year, in the depths of winter, the Great-Grandfather of Feng Manor was, for some reason, in an unusually good mood, and brought all the children along on a trip to Phoenix Mountain.

At the time, Feng Qingyin was still merely an illegitimate daughter, having only just managed to gain the title of Eighth Miss. Back then, aside from Feng Jiu’er, no one paid her any attention at all.

So the only person she spent the most time with was Feng Jiu’er.

That year, in the depths of the twelfth lunar month, the weather was especially cold, but on Phoenix Mountain there was a very, very large hot spring.

The warm spring water became, in the midst of that bitter winter, the most beautiful sight of all.

The young girls stayed together, stripping off their clothes to soak in the hot spring, having more fun than words could say.

Feng Jiu’er, however, chasing after a single herb in a spot no one else could see, fell from the rock wall beside the hot spring.

Feng Qingyin happened to be present as well, and at the time she even saw Jiu’er coughing up fresh blood, unsure whether she was about to die.

Feng Jiu’er had fallen right at the edge of the hot spring pool, collapsing unconscious by the water’s edge, the warm spring water turning her body bright red.

Just as Feng Qingyin thought she might already be dead, a totem suddenly surfaced on her lower back — the very same totem now etched onto Feng Qingyin’s own lower back.

The totem grew clearer and clearer, and then, miraculously, Feng Jiu’er woke up, completely unharmed.

Once Feng Jiu’er had recovered, the totem vanished without a trace.

For some reason she couldn’t explain, that totem became permanently etched, vivid and clear, deep in Feng Qingyin’s mind.

Perhaps at the time she hadn’t known what use such a totem might serve, but she always sensed it had to be something extraordinary.

Later still, by sheer coincidence, she overheard her grandfather speaking with an accomplished monk, mentioning something about a Phoenix Maiden descending into the world and bringing glory to the Feng family.

Her grandfather hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, but she, young as she was, had remembered every word.

After returning, she mentioned it to her mother, Yu Niang, who seemed to have heard the legend of the Phoenix Maiden as well — though as to who the Phoenix Maiden actually was, Yu Niang had no idea at all.

Still, mother and daughter both felt that this totem might be connected to the Phoenix Maiden.

So Feng Qingyin drew out the totem from memory, and Yu Niang, being exceptionally skilled with needlework, personally branded the totem onto her daughter’s lower back — in exactly the same spot where the Phoenix Mark had once surfaced on Feng Jiu’er.

Once Feng Qingyin had grown a little older, she deliberately found an opportunity to reveal the totem before the Empress — and, sure enough, the Empress had believed it completely.

“Your Highness, I’ve told you, I’ve told you everything — please spare me, please…”

Feng Qingyin lay sprawled in a pool of blood, gazing weakly at Nanmen Rong on the bed.

Her body had been struck by countless lashes, wounds crisscrossing her skin, blood pooling across the floor.

She felt she was about to die. Had she not believed there was truly no hope left for her, she would never have revealed any of this.

Feng Qingyin no longer had any room left to think — to stay alive, she would do or say anything asked of her without the slightest refusal.

She truly only wanted to live…

The inner palace was far too terrifying a place. She couldn’t endure it, and she had never been suited to reach so high.

Let her go home, let her live — that was her only plea now…

Nanmen Rong, however, simply sat there on the bed in a daze, her eyes vacant, her expression shifting between eerie and ghastly.

The Phoenix Maiden… was actually Feng Jiu’er! How could it possibly be Feng Jiu’er?

Then what had it all been for, her single-minded effort to keep Heng’er and Feng Jiu’er apart?

In the end, Heng’er hadn’t married the Phoenix Maiden after all — and that wretched Feng Jiu’er had instead ended up entangled with her beloved A’Jiu! What kind of twisted fate was this?!

Had she known it would come to this, why hadn’t she simply let Heng’er marry that wild girl Feng Jiu’er from the start!

He who obtains the Phoenix Maiden obtains the realm! If only Heng’er had married her, once the realm was secured, even if she despised Feng Jiu’er, she could have tormented her thoroughly afterward — that would have been enough.

Why had she pushed the girl away from Heng’er’s side, only to push her straight into A’Jiu’s arms instead?

“It’s all your fault, all because of you, you damned wretch!” The Empress, consumed by rage, hurled something at Feng Qingyin without even realizing what it was — and then suddenly vomited a mouthful of dark, congested blood.

Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed into unconsciousness on the spot.

“Your Highness! Your Highness, are you all right?”

The whole room broke into chaos at once. Qinxue kicked Feng Qingyin aside and, with no time to spare for her any longer, rushed to help the physician tend to Nanmen Rong.

The kick sent Feng Qingyin’s blood and breath churning violently, and her eyes rolled back as she fell unconscious as well.

The guards, seeing her drenched in blood — an offense to the Empress’s sight even here — and noting how weak and near death she appeared, exchanged a glance. One of them simply grabbed Feng Qingyin and dragged her out without ceremony.

They had originally intended to have someone dump her body at the mass grave outside the palace, but no one expected that the moment they stepped out through the gates of Xuanhua Hall, they would look up to see a procession approaching.

“Y-Your Majesty…” The guard’s entire body shuddered, frozen completely in place, utterly at a loss.

“Insolence! You see His Majesty and still don’t kneel?” The chief eunuch, walking at the front, shot the guard a furious glare.

Only then did the guard come to his senses, immediately dropping Feng Qingyin and falling to his knees with a thud.

“Greetings, Your Majesty!”

“What is this?”

The chief eunuch stared at the heap dropped onto the ground, the stench of blood overwhelming. He frowned at once.

The thick, cloying smell was so strong that even Emperor Qiwen, seated in the imperial palanquin, couldn’t help his expression changing.

“Just who is this?”

When the Emperor himself asked, who would dare not answer?

The guard stammered, finally managing to say in a small voice: “It’s… it’s the Eighth Miss of the Feng family. She… she offended Her Highness the Empress, so…”

“Insolent fool! I have already deposed the Empress — what Empress are you talking about?” Emperor Qiwen’s expression darkened, and he barked angrily: “Drag him away and behead him!”

That damned, venomous woman — even now, she was still venting her fury on an innocent victim!

He had never properly laid eyes on this Eighth Miss Feng before, but he knew that she had long been a favorite of Nanmen Rong’s, treated almost like a daughter of her own.

He had also heard Nanmen Rong mention before that the Eighth Miss Feng was well suited for Heng’er, the obvious choice to become the future Crown Princess.

Yet now, simply for having offended that venomous woman, she had been tortured to this state! A once vibrant young life, reduced to nothing but a single breath, with no telling whether she would survive at all.

“Your Majesty, this servant was wrong, please spare me, Your Majesty!”

The guard was dragged away, and soon, not the slightest sound remained.

Feng Qingyin’s eyes flickered faintly open. In her blurred vision, the man seated upon the imperial palanquin was looking down at her.

She struggled to raise her hand, her voice hoarse: “Save me, save me…”

She truly had nothing left. All that remained of her was a single breath escaping, and even drawing air in was a struggle.

Blood continued to flow without end, her strength draining away bit by bit, and everything before her eyes grew gradually blurred until she could no longer see clearly at all.

Whatever future as Crown Princess, whatever future as Empress — all those glorious crowns above her head vanished one by one from what remained of her life.

Was she… truly about to die?