Speaking of killing — at this present moment, Lanranyue was truly not capable of it.

Feng Jiu had kept him occupied for a long time. At the very least half a shichen, during which she had been working steadily at his wrist with some sort of needles and medicines — probing, pressing, threading.

His wrist gradually grew numb. Later still, all sensation left it entirely. It felt, in every way, as though the hand had been utterly ruined.

And yet, looking at Feng Jiu’s earnest little face, he found himself inexplicably willing to believe that the wrist still had a chance to recover.

The tendon had been severed — how could it possibly recover? What was he thinking, that he could trust such a young girl?

He couldn’t even understand how such a young girl had managed to injure him to this extent.

What was more, even after she had so badly wounded him, he had still managed not to kill her.

A remarkable experience. A remarkable version of himself. But tonight, he had no energy left to think any further.

By the time Feng Jiu took her leave, Lanranyue’s consciousness was already muddled. After completing the surgery, she had quietly administered a needle and eased him into a half-conscious state — and he gradually drifted off to sleep.

Feng Jiu had done it deliberately, of course. She feared that once the surgery was over, Lanranyue might suddenly renew his intention to kill her.

Whatever the case, she needed to give him some time — let him calm down, and let herself quickly get away from the Number One Manor Under Heaven.

Once she was back at Tianji Hall, killing her would not be quite so easy given Lanranyue’s current condition.

In short: get to safety first. At the very least, she wouldn’t die quite so quickly.

So after administering the anesthetic needle to Lanranyue, she made her escape with all haste.

The needle that would have sent an ordinary person into a sound sleep straight through until dawn worked on Lanranyue for only a single shichen.

In the small hours before dawn, Lanranyue woke. Long Yan was still keeping watch at his side.

“Manor Master, you’re awake?” Seeing him try to rise, Long Yan immediately moved to him and pressed gently down on his shoulder. “Manor Master, Miss Feng gave instructions — this hand absolutely cannot be moved carelessly tonight. You must rest quietly for at least three days and three nights.”

Three days and three nights.

In truth, for someone with a severed hand tendon, if three days and three nights were enough to allow recovery, that was not a long time at all.

But three days and three nights, for Lanranyue as he was now, was a profound waste of time.

“Manor Master, hear me out. Affairs outside will be managed by me. But you truly cannot move recklessly right now. This hand… the injury is not light.”

Long Yan exhaled softly, refusing to let him rise no matter what.

Lanranyue knew, of course, that the injury was not light. After all, it was his own body.

At last, he lay back down. He swept the room with his eyes, then narrowed them at once. “Where is Feng Jiu?”

Long Yan understood his concern. But when it came to Feng Jiu, he didn’t know why — he always felt a particular ease.

He hesitated a moment, then said, “Miss Feng… has returned to Tianji Hall.”

“You let her leave?” Lanranyue immediately tried to rise again.

Long Yan — referred to in the text as Kongyan in this passage, though this appears to be an error in the source; contextually it is Long Yan — pressed him back down again and only then said, “Manor Master, do you intend to keep her imprisoned in the manor for the rest of her life?”

“Since she cannot be imprisoned for life, then have her killed and silenced.” Lanranyue’s uninjured hand clenched tight in his palm. “She knows our secret.”

“But Miss Feng has no intention whatsoever of exposing us. If she did, she would never have come here. It would have been far easier to tell Emperor Qiwen.”

And so Long Yan genuinely trusted Feng Jiu — though at his level of experience, placing trust in an outsider was no simple thing.

But Feng Jiu was different. Feng Jiu… was worth trusting.

“What’s more, she came here of her own accord to treat your injury, Manor Master. If Miss Feng truly bore us ill will, she should have told Emperor Qiwen long ago — not risked her life coming here.”

The Manor Master wanted to silence Feng Jiu by killing her. Did Feng Jiu herself not know this?

Not to mention, before she went inside, he had already given her a warning — that going to see the Manor Master at such a time was to court death.

And she had still come. Simply because she feared that waiting even a little longer might cost her the chance to save the Manor Master’s hand.

Such a good young woman as Miss Feng — who could bear to harm her?

“Long Yan, when did you grow so softhearted?” Lanranyue fixed his gaze on him, those ink-dark eyes narrowing. “Have you fallen for that little girl?”

If he recalled correctly, the man Feng Jiu had brought along that day — though he wore a hat that obscured his face — had clearly been attached to her.

Long Yan, hearing this, first went blank, then turned red at the eyes instantly, his face a mask of agitation.

“What is the Manor Master saying? I am nearly thirty years old — in terms of age I am practically old enough to be Miss Feng’s father. How can the Manor Master say such a thing?”

This kind of talk really shouldn’t be said at all. It was an absolute insult to a young woman’s dignity. If word got out, it could very well destroy her reputation.

“It is only a difference of twelve or thirteen years. Since when does twelve or thirteen years make a man old enough to be a father? Old man, young wife — there is no shortage of such matches in the world. The man who came with Feng Jiu that day — was he not at least ten years older than her?”

Lanranyue gave a cold snort. “If you truly fancy Feng Jiu, take her as your wife. It would save me the trouble of deliberating over whether to silence her.”

“Manor Master, please do not say such things again. How could I possibly have feelings for such a young girl?”

To Long Yan, Feng Jiu was still a child. Though sixteen or seventeen was indeed a marriageable age, the age gap between them was simply too great.

“Manor Master, it seems you have said rather too much tonight. What is it that the Manor Master is actually thinking?”

“I’m thinking of how to kill her and keep her quiet.” Lanranyue’s mood that night was genuinely complicated. No matter how he turned it over in his mind, he still could not understand how he had arrived at his current predicament.

And now he had to lie abed for three whole days and three nights before his hand might recover.

In all his years wandering the martial world, he had truly never allowed himself to be in such a sorry state — with the sole exception of that year when…

“Manor Master, Miss Feng really is a good young woman. I can stake my head on it — she will absolutely never betray us.”

“If you truly can bring her home as your wife, then I will believe it.”

“Manor Master…” Long Yan let out a breath, understanding that the Manor Master was in a foul temper due to the turmoil in his heart.

He let the subject drop for now.

“Manor Master, before Miss Feng left, she took your pulse. She said that you… have toxins within your body. If they are not cleansed, you will be corroded by their poison continuously — and when the poison flares, the suffering will be unbearable.”

Lanranyue looked at him and said nothing.

Long Yan weighed his words carefully before saying, “Manor Master, although your mysterious ailment has gone undetected for so many years, it does not necessarily follow that Feng Jiu cannot see it as well. Why not…”

“Enough prattle.” Lanranyue turned his face away and closed his eyes.

Since he was not allowed to rise, then he would simply rest well for a few days.

He said coolly, “Settle the brothers in properly. Not a single breath of this can leak out. If it does, every brother in this manor will be buried alongside us.”

“I understand.” Long Yan nodded, his gaze falling on the mask that had been fixed to the Manor Master’s face for years beyond counting. He parted his lips but swallowed his words.

Why did the Manor Master resist so stubbornly letting Feng Jiu treat the poison on his body? If it could be cured, that face of his might perhaps heal as well.