“Feng Jiu’er!” Nanmeng Rong’s expression changed drastically. Without a second’s thought, she leaped forward and flew toward that white-robed young person.
Half a year they had not seen each other — her cultivation had not advanced by much, but she was already a master in her own right, and so that single strike was still formidably fierce.
The wind it stirred slammed into the junior eunuch walking ahead of Feng Jiu’er and sent him crashing to the ground with a thud, blood churning in his chest as he retched and spat a mouthful of fresh blood.
Feng Jiu’er stood rooted in place, motionless, as if completely unaware that someone had launched a sneak attack from behind.
But in the howling gale, her footing was firm and not the slightest bit disordered — showing her own footwork was no small matter either.
No one had expected that Consort Rong would suddenly strike. Nor did anyone understand what deep grudge she bore against this white-robed young person.
Yet the white-robed young person had just walked out of His Majesty’s sleeping chambers — could it be that Consort Rong was jealous of everyone who gained the Emperor’s favor?
Given the overbearing nature Consort Rong had maintained through all these years, it was not entirely impossible. Only it was a pity for this young person — clearly of distinguished bearing and striking appearance, and here they were, on the verge of perishing under Consort Rong’s palm.
Nanmeng Rong had not expected Feng Jiu’er to make no move to counter — not even to know how to counter. Yet even a person of Feng Jiu’er’s martial skill could not deflect her, so how could she possibly fight back?
At last, just as that palm was about to fall upon Feng Jiu’er’s head, Feng Jiu’er turned around and gave her a cool, unhurried glance.
It was not Feng Jiu’er — that face was simply not her face!
What was happening? She… had mistaken the person?
Consort Rong was momentarily dumbstruck. But the force of the strike had already been sent forward — this blow had been delivered with her full ten-part inner energy, and to pull it back now would cause the energy to rebound and injure herself.
Nanmeng Rong was not the sort of person to harm herself for the sake of an innocent stranger. So even knowing full well that she had struck the wrong person, there was no possibility of withdrawing that palm.
Feng Jiu’er narrowed her eyes and fixed her gaze on Nanmeng Rong as she bore down on a gust of wind.
Half a year apart, and this woman was still as venomous, as savage, and as utterly unreasonable as ever.
She had seen the startled confusion in Nanmeng Rong’s eyes a moment ago — clear as day, the woman had realized she had the wrong person, and yet rather than let her inner energy rebound and hurt herself, she had chosen to strike down an innocent person without hesitation.
Someone like this was a scourge upon the world!
Inner energy surged beneath her palm in an instant. Old and new grudges combined — she had genuinely wanted to send this wretched woman straight to meet her maker with a single strike.
But just as she unleashed that blow, she forced herself to hold back thirty percent of her power.
If she killed Nanmeng Rong right now, all of Tianji Hall would be dragged down with her.
Yet Nanmeng Rong had murdered her mother — that debt of blood was one she could not and would not leave unsettled.
Boom — a tremendous crash as the two palm forces collided. The air around them froze in an instant, then, in that frozen moment, seemed to erupt all at once.
With a soft, wet sound, Nanmeng Rong spat a mouthful of blood. Her figure paused for a split second in midair, then shot backwards like an arrow, and a moment later landed on the ground with a heavy thud.
“There’s an assassin! An assassin!” An elderly palace governess began crying out, and over ten guards came surging in from all sides, surrounding Feng Jiu’er in a battle ring.
Yet no one dared make the first move. The Lady had not yet spoken, and moreover, this white-robed young person had just emerged from His Majesty’s sleeping chambers — clearly someone the Emperor had summoned into the palace.
As for Consort Rong… it was Consort Rong who had struck out without reason, and now no one was sure whether or not to detain the white-robed young person.
And even Consort Rong couldn’t get past this person in a single exchange — on what basis could they bring this person down?
⒏BbOOk.Сom
“My Lady!” Palace maids and governesses rushed over in a panic, intending to help her up.
But Consort Rong could not stand — at that moment her blood and energy were churning violently, and she simply could not be helped up.
A maid reached out to support her, and Nanmeng Rong felt the churning in her chest and stomach surge even more violently, and with another cry, a second mouthful of blood came gushing up.
The maid’s expression went pale with fright, and she let go — and with a thud, Nanmeng Rong collapsed to the ground again.
And so, her mouth opened, and yet another mouthful of blood poured out. The scene was a sea of crimson, truly too horrifying to behold.
The governess was so furious she could have had the maid cut down then and there: “Someone come — drag her out and beat her to death with clubs!”
Two guards rushed over and dragged the wailing and begging maid off to a distance.
The junior eunuch who had been leading Feng Jiu’er out had by now struggled back to his feet. With great effort he managed to collect his breath, and only then remembered everything he had just witnessed.
He had actually seen Master Feng Jiu strike Consort Rong to the ground with a single palm blow — and draw blood!
This would never do. If the Nanmeng clan came to demand an accounting, would he not end up like that maid just now, beaten to death with clubs?
“My Lady, please forgive me — this person is the divine physician summoned into the palace by His Majesty, Master Feng Jiu. Just now the Master certainly did not know it was you, My Lady, and struck without intent. The Master did not mean it — please spare this one’s life!”
“Kill— kill this lowly wretch for this consort—!” Nanmeng Rong, with great difficulty, managed to force out a few broken words — but the first words out of her mouth were already calling for someone’s death.
Though these words were halting and intermittent, the words of Consort Rong were not something anyone dared disobey.
Swords rang out as the guards drew their blades, pointing them at Feng Jiu’er.
“Stand down!” Suddenly, a eunuch’s sharp voice rang out.
Everyone turned — and saw a retinue approaching, and looking more closely, recognized it as Consort Qing.
Feng Qingyin’s appearances were always accompanied by a sense of radiant splendor. Not a single palace maid, eunuch, or guard was missing from her entourage — she seemed particularly fond of this mode of entrance, with ten thousand glories converging upon her alone.
She stepped down from her jade palanquin by treading on the back of a junior eunuch, as always, moving wherever she went surrounded by a throng of palace maids and guards — even within the palace this was so, which showed how lofty her position in the inner court truly was.
“Is that not Consort Rong? What are you doing sitting on the ground? Is this meant to be a grand salutation for me?”
Seeing Nanmeng Rong seated on the ground, Feng Qingyin covered her lips and laughed — with an air of gracious elegance. “No need to stand on ceremony. Rise.”
Nanmeng Rong was so enraged she very nearly spat up blood again! Who wanted to perform a grand salutation for this wretched woman? For Nanmeng Rong to bow before her — who did she think she was?
Back when Nanmeng Rong had been Empress, Feng Qingyin had always trotted along at her heels, forever looking for a chance to polish her shoes.
And now, just because she had spent a few days serving that useless Emperor, she thought she could climb up over Nanmeng Rong’s head?
“Help this consort up.” Nanmeng Rong gritted her teeth, straining to suppress the churning tide in her chest and stomach.
Several palace maids and governesses immediately moved to help her up, handling her with the utmost care.
Unexpectedly, Feng Qingyin’s expression darkened, and a maid at her side said indignantly, “How presumptuous — you have not yet paid your respects to Noble Consort Feng!”
The maid’s words were directed at the people surrounding Nanmeng Rong, but Nanmeng Rong had already told them to help her rise.
Now, if they were to bow and pay their respects to Feng Qingyin, they would have to abandon Nanmeng Rong entirely.
Curse them! A lowly, worthless maid, and she dared to be insolent before her!
Nanmeng Rong’s blood churned with fury, and through gritted teeth she said, “Someone come — drag this wretched servant down and beat her to death with clubs!”