This was not Feng Jiu’er’s first time entering the palace — but for Feng Jiu, it was.

So she was careful in speech and deliberate in conduct, just as any ordinary commoner would be on their first palace visit. Not a trace of meekness about her, yet every word and action remained measured and proper, giving no cause for fault.

Since only she had been summoned, Xiao Yingtao and Qiao Mu did not accompany her.

“His Majesty is having tea in the side hall. Physician, please follow this old servant to the side hall for the audience.” The chief eunuch’s tone was even, and remarkably, he showed not the slightest trace of the lofty condescension that palace stewards typically displayed toward commoners.

Feng Jiu gave a nod and followed behind him.

Before long, the two arrived at the entrance of the side hall. The chief eunuch announced their presence before they stepped inside.

Inside the side hall, a figure robed in deep black caught her eye in an instant.

Feng Jiu faltered slightly. In that fraction of a moment, the tips of her fingers tightened, and a flash of startled recognition crossed the depths of her eyes — only to vanish in the shortest possible span of time, leaving not a single trace behind.

She had not expected the Ninth Imperial Uncle to be here as well, seated in the position just below Emperor Qiwen — an honored seat, one that even the Eighth Prince occupied only further down. It was clear how lofty Ninth Prince’s standing in the court truly was.

A prince who had only recently returned from the frontier — and yet even the Emperor deferred to him, not daring to voice even a single word of displeasure.

The Ninth Prince himself showed no sign of arrogance. He was as he always was — disinclined to speak, and even less inclined to smile. Topics that held his interest he might half-heartedly hear out. Topics that didn’t, he simply ignored over his tea.

What stirred something deep within Feng Jiu, however, was that sweep of deep black against his figure.

The night before, the Ninth Imperial Uncle had been dressed in deep black as well. She had assumed it was merely for ease of movement in the dark of night — but it seemed he wore the same deep black again today.

This color scheme was one the Ninth Imperial Uncle of former days had not favored. He had always preferred white robes — even on the battlefield, the armor he wore had been silver-white.

He seemed to have been something of a perfectionist in those days. He would not wear clothing once it was soiled.

But after the two of them had spent time together, the Ninth Imperial Uncle had seemed to ease up on that habit. At times, he had even indulged Feng Jiu’er in wiping her hands on his precious robes.

But that was all in the past now…

In an instant, Feng Jiu’s expression returned to its usual composure. The shifting of her eyes had been so swift that not another soul present could have detected it.

“This servant pays respects to His Majesty, to the Empress Dowager, to the Ninth Prince, to the Eighth Prince…”

After the chief eunuch had bowed in turn to each, he said: “Your Majesty, this is the Physician Feng Jiu who treated His Highness the Crown Prince yesterday. Physician, please come forward and pay your respects.”

Though Feng Jiu was a gifted figure from among the common people, as long as one was a subject of Bei Mu, whether a gifted personage or an enemy, one was still required to bow before these great ones.

Feng Jiu raised no objection. She stepped forward and spoke her greeting in a calm, low-pitched voice — her manner composed, neither disrespectful nor self-abasing.

This bearing and conduct was perfectly fitting for someone of lofty standing among the common people.

Emperor Qiwen appeared even more temperate than in any previous encounter. This time, he was unmistakably the image of a wise and benevolent ruler.

“So you are Physician Feng Jiu? It was you who treated this emperor’s son yesterday?”

“In reply to Your Majesty — it was this one.” It was indeed her work, and she would not deny it. Though she had no desire to claim the merit, speaking falsely in the Emperor’s presence could easily tip into offense.

“This person’s bearing looks most familiar, and yet…” The Empress Dowager Ning fixed her gaze on Feng Jiu, frowning one moment, then shaking her head the next.

At last she smiled. “This Dowager must not have encountered the physician before — yet, Physician, the air about you is quite beautiful indeed.”

The Empress Dowager Ning described Feng Jiu’s air as beautiful — an oddly contradictory choice of words, not quite precise. How could an air be described as beautiful? And besides, this was clearly a graceful young man — it was hardly appropriate to call him beautiful.

But the words came from the Empress Dowager Ning’s mouth, and all present were her juniors — no one would dare to correct her.

Moreover, when they considered it, they found themselves silently in agreement. The air around Feng Jiu truly was… beautiful. Whether man or woman — equally striking, and pleasing to behold.

“Physician Feng Jiu, has this prince perhaps encountered you before?” The Eighth Prince’s two thick, sword-like eyebrows drew together faintly.

“Old Eight, do you also find the physician familiar?” But Empress Dowager Ning, having said it herself, shook her head once more: “No — on second thought, this Dowager finds the physician most unfamiliar.”

“Indeed, most unfamiliar. This prince must have misremembered.” The Eighth Prince gave a rueful smile. “Physician, please forgive the presumption.”

Every one of these imperial figures was of the highest standing, yet in their speech and manner, each was more refined and courteous than the last. The Empress Dowager and the Princes bore not the slightest hint of arrogance — truly remarkable.

The Ninth Prince, on the other hand — the man who had spent the previous night in her room — today pretended not to know her in the slightest, not even sparing her a single glance, as though they were complete strangers.

The Ninth Prince was always like this — imperious, disregarding of others. Everyone was long accustomed to it and felt no surprise at the behavior.

Feng Jiu only allowed herself a brief sidelong glance at him before averting her eyes, and addressed the Empress Dowager gently: “This one is but a humble commoner, and naturally has never had the honor of meeting the Empress Dowager.”

“Now you have met, have you not? Physician, please be seated.”

The Empress Dowager had spoken — every palace maid and eunuch within earshot moved at once. A chair was brought forward without delay, set in place for Feng Jiu.

A small table followed immediately after, with tea and refreshments laid out in full — the hospitality could not have been more warm.

“Yesterday, this emperor is most grateful to the physician for saving this emperor’s son. Come — let this emperor offer a toast in tea.” Emperor Qiwen raised his cup.

Feng Jiu rose to her feet at once, adopting an expression of overwhelmed gratitude.

“This one is a subject of Bei Mu. The Crown Prince is of incomparable worth — to have had the fortune of treating His Highness was this one’s blessing. This one could not possibly presume to accept Your Majesty’s toast.”

Feng Jiu was measured in both advance and retreat, and even her speech was polished and composed in manner — the kind of air that elders of Empress Dowager Ning’s age found most pleasing.

Both hands cradling the cup, Feng Jiu inclined forward respectfully. “This cup is this one’s toast to Your Majesty. Your Majesty was gracious enough to not consider this one unworthy and permit this one to treat the Crown Prince — for that, this one is deeply grateful. Please accept this toast.”

“Imperial Brother need not trouble Physician Feng Jiu so — look, you’ve frightened the physician into a cold sweat.”

The Eighth Prince smiled and said warmly: “Today is simply casual conversation. Physician, there is no need to stand on ceremony — treat this as you would your own home.”

“This one would not dare.”

After this round of pleasantries, Feng Jiu had grown somewhat weary of it all — and so she simply let herself relax, no longer maintaining quite such rigid formality, and found her speech coming more naturally as well.

Emperor Qiwen, for whatever reason, had entirely set aside the imperious manner of an emperor — speaking in a way that truly resembled nothing more than the eldest son of a household.

Feng Jiu still could not discern why Emperor Qiwen had summoned her to the palace today. For all their talking, it truly had amounted to nothing but casual conversation.

Speaking of which — what standing did a common person like herself have to sit here exchanging pleasantries with the imperial family? What, exactly, did Emperor Qiwen intend to accomplish?