The horse galloped on without pause, and soon the faint outline of the snowy mountain range came into view.

Tying the horse to a tree, Feng Jiu’er stroked its mane: “There’s plenty of green grass all around here, so take your time eating. I might not come back down for most of the day — be a good boy and wait for me, okay?”

Then, taking a deep breath, she pushed off with her foot, and in an instant covered a distance of several zhang.

Mm, her first step alone had covered over three zhang — a decent bit of progress, making all those recent days of hard training worthwhile.

Still, Ninth Imperial Uncle could cover dozens of zhang with a single casual stride — catching up to him would clearly take a very long road indeed.

Feng Jiu’er moved along the tree branches, the crisp wind in her face, a faint smile curling unbidden at the corners of her lips.

Already thinking about catching up to Ninth Imperial Uncle this soon — Feng Jiu’er, oh Feng Jiu’er, your ambitions really have grown bold. Heh!

The snowy mountain was some distance from where she’d left her horse, but for Jiu’er now, it took no more than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn before she reached the foot of the mountain.

Climbing further, the stretch up to the halfway point was just as effortless, but the path from the halfway mark to the summit was where the real difficulty began.

She located once again that line of temperature difference, where the air on either side differed so sharply that not even snow could settle along the boundary, making it particularly easy to walk.

But this time, as she walked along that boundary line, Feng Jiu’er’s brow furrowed tightly, an uneasy premonition suddenly rising within her.

Someone other than herself had walked through here as well!

The footprints were scattered and chaotic, looking as though there might have been as many as dozens of people.

Dozens of people climbing the mountain — what could they possibly want?

How was Xue Gu doing now?

…Feng Jiu’er climbed all the way to the summit in one stretch.

The boundary line had a limited reach, vanishing before she even reached the peak.

Jiu’er put on the animal hide she had prepared in advance, and only then followed those scattered footprints into the driving snow.

The footprints had been clear along the boundary line, but once inside the summit’s range, the heavy wind and snow quickly erased them without a trace.

She had no choice but to rely on memory, carefully feeling her way forward, intending to find Xue Gu first before doing anything else.

…The little wooden cabin where Xue Gu lived was now in complete disarray, its contents turned utterly upside down, the bedding and quilts slashed to ruin by some sharp blade.

It was clear that those dozens of people who had come up the mountain had searched the place with sharp blades drawn — yet there were no traces of any struggle left behind.

Damn it — there was no telling how they had managed to find that boundary line. Without that exact path, an ordinary person could never have made it up here at all.

But once they’d found the boundary line, climbing up had become the simplest thing in the world.

Xue Gu’s peaceful life had been utterly shattered!

Since there were no signs of any struggle here, it meant they hadn’t found Xue Gu — at least, not here.

There wasn’t the slightest stir on the summit. Could it be that those people had already descended the mountain?

But now that they knew someone lived up here, these people would likely keep returning from time to time to search.

Where had Xue Gu gone? And what of those two Snow Lotus Beasts?

Feng Jiu’er had no choice but to brave the wind and snow, continuing her careful search across the summit.

But after searching for a long while, she still found no trace of Xue Gu.

The freezing wind and driving snow brought a cold that cut to the bone. Even with her body-protecting energy, she couldn’t remain in such harsh conditions forever.

After circling the area once more without finding Xue Gu, Jiu’er returned to the boundary line and reluctantly descended the mountain.

Where exactly had Xue Gu gone? Just who were those people who had climbed the mountain? Had they found her?

At the foot of the mountain, the presence of strangers grew steadily stronger.

Feng Jiu’er slowed her pace, and the moment she finally heard voices speaking, she froze and quickly ducked into the underbrush.

“My lord, we’ve already searched several times over, but we still haven’t found the person. Nor have we found the legendary Snow Lotus Beasts.”

Someone was reporting to another. Feng Jiu’er gently parted the underbrush and peered out, and sure enough, she spotted a group of men and horses stationed not far off.

Inner Palace Guards! How had this long-abandoned snowy mountain drawn the attention of the Inner Palace Guards? Just whose orders were they acting on?

A fair number of guards were still searching the surrounding area, and Jiu’er didn’t dare approach rashly, so naturally she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

After a while, those men left, but Feng Jiu’er remained exactly where she was, unmoving.

Sure enough, soon after, another group bringing up the rear emerged from a concealed patch of brush about an incense-stick’s time later, catching up with the group ahead.

Only then did all these people finally disappear completely from sight.

Jiu’er stepped out from the brush and, once they had moved far enough away, quietly began trailing after them.

The horse was still grazing right where she’d left it, and the moment it saw Jiu’er return, it immediately showed signs of excitement.

The warhorse given to her by the Seventh Prince had no name to speak of, but it was undoubtedly a fine steed.

“From now on, I’ll call you Soul Chaser.” Jiu’er leapt onto the horse’s back and stroked its mane. “Today, let’s first see whether you’re truly worthy of that name. Hyah!”

She followed the guards all the way to the back gate of the imperial palace — and they actually entered through the back door! It seemed this particular group of guards hadn’t been carrying out any official duty after all.

Within the inner palace, the people capable of mobilizing the guards could be counted on one hand — if not Nanmen Rong, then it had to be Zhan Yuheng.

But whoever it was, what exactly was the reason behind dispatching such a large number of guards to search for someone on the snowy mountain?

Who had let the secret slip, revealing that Xue Gu lived on the snowy mountain?

The forbidden inner courtyards of the imperial palace stood behind walls so tall they seemed to pierce the clouds.

Feng Jiu’er had no intention of forcing her way in to continue tracking them. She stroked the horse’s mane, reasonably satisfied with Soul Chaser: “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone home. Let’s head back.”

She hadn’t found Xue Gu, and neither had the guards — Xue Gu must have hidden herself away.

This wasn’t something to be rushed. She’d go back and think of a way slowly.

…Feng Manor looked, on the surface, much the same as ever, with nothing apparently changed. But Jiu’er couldn’t help feeling that something about the atmosphere this time felt off.

Still, she paid it no mind, and the moment she arrived, hurried straight to the main hall to find her great-grandfather.

“Jiu’er, you’re back?” Patriarch Feng Zhenhai was sitting in the side hall having tea. There was still some time before the evening meal, and the servants were all busy preparing the food.

The old man sat alone in the side hall, not even the head steward present, lending the place a rather lonely air.

He had many children and grandchildren, but perhaps because he had long been accustomed to being overly strict, everyone regarded this grandfather of theirs with more reverence than affection.

For the scheduled formal greetings, everyone scrambled to show up on time, but at any other moment, no one came near unless they had some specific business.

“Grandfather, are you playing chess against yourself?” The sight of the chessboard sent a pang of sadness through Feng Jiu’er. “Why didn’t you call someone else?”

Feng Zhenhai glanced at her, noting that this granddaughter of his had indeed changed from before — and yet, strangely, she now resembled even more closely how she had been as a small child.

He sighed faintly to himself, though with a touch of helplessness: “Jiu’er, come here. Sit with your grandfather for a while.”

“All right.” Feng Jiu’er didn’t refuse in the slightest, sitting down directly across from him and putting the chessboard away.

She had so many things weighing on her heart, so many questions she wanted to ask, so much she wanted to investigate — only she wasn’t sure how to even begin.

Grandfather… was there any chance he might know where her maternal grandfather and uncle were now?