The one who had wounded Feng Yinan was the very woman on the battlefield that day — the one who had nearly taken his life with a single sword strike.
Feng Yinan did not actually know Leng Yue, but the moment Leng Yue had thrust her sword at him back then, the vicious and sinister look on her face had been seared into his memory for a lifetime.
Tonight, Leng Yue had not taken his life, yet she had driven several sword strikes into his legs.
Before Feng Jiu had gone to the Ninth Prince’s Manor, she had already bandaged Feng Yinan’s wounds. But after returning from the Ninth Prince’s Manor, she came here again to continue tending to his injuries.
The wounds were deep, yet it was evident that she had been discovered and forced to flee in a hurry — and so only the flesh had been harmed, the bones left unscathed.
Most likely, she had figured that since Feng Yinan’s legs were already ruined, a few more strikes would make little difference.
Yinan also bore wounds on his arms — all of them pierced by a long sword. Leng Yue had merely wanted to torment him; she had no intention of ending his life.
After all, he was already a broken man. To kill him would be swift and clean — but to leave him alive was the true suffering.
For a young woman like Leng Yue, her heart was truly far too vicious.
“That woman is absolutely horrible! Yinan is already like this, and she… how could she bring herself to do it!” Xiao Yingtao stared at the wounds covering Feng Yinan’s body, her heart aching with grief.
Even if it were a perfect stranger — even a common passerby — anyone who saw Yinan in this state would not have the heart to raise a hand against him.
Yet that wretched Leng Yue possessed not even a shred of the basic conscience that made one human. She truly did not deserve to call herself a person!
“My lord, you should have killed her tonight — taken revenge for Yinan!” Xiao Yingtao cried out in fury.
Qiao Mu gently tugged at her sleeve, but Xiao Yingtao still failed to catch on, continuing to seethe: “With my lord’s current skill, killing that wicked woman Leng Yue would be as easy as turning a hand over, she—”
“Enough.” Qiao Mu shot her a glance, resigned.
That girl Xiao Yingtao had no eye for situations and no sense of tact. If my lord could have killed Leng Yue tonight, she would have done so long ago.
Caught under that glance, Xiao Yingtao swallowed the words at the tip of her tongue. She thought it over, and at last the realization dawned on her.
Tonight, my lord and Qiao Mu had gone to the Ninth Prince’s Manor — they could not have executed Leng Yue there; someone must have stopped them.
Now that she thought about it, that place was the Ninth Prince’s Manor. Even if the Ninth Prince treated my lord kindly, it was still not a place where my lord could act freely.
Leng Yue was Emperor Ji’s adopted daughter. Given the relationship between the Ninth Prince and Emperor Ji, how could the Ninth Prince have simply stood by and watched my lord execute Leng Yue?
For my lord to have stormed the Ninth Prince’s Manor in the first place had already been impulsive.
Xiao Yingtao grew somewhat uneasy. She turned back to look at Qiao Mu, lowering her voice: “So then… my lord and the Ninth Prince…”
Qiao Mu shook her head. This was not a subject suited for now. My lord was in poor spirits, and speaking of it further would only deepen her sorrow.
That the Ninth Prince had shielded Leng Yue was human nature — understandable, even reasonable. Yet for my lord in this moment, it was perhaps something impossible to excuse.
Back then, Feng Yinan had been wounded entirely because he had thrown himself in front of my lord to protect her. My lord owed Yinan far too much. Now, watching Yinan be tormented and unable to take revenge on his behalf — how wretched must her heart feel?
Throughout all of this, Feng Jiu had not uttered a single word. She was focused entirely on applying fresh medicine to Feng Yinan’s wounds.
Whether it was the medicine or her technique, both were of the finest quality. Her movements were extraordinarily gentle, as though terrified of causing Yinan even the slightest pain.
Only after she had finished tending to the last wound did Feng Jiu look at Feng Yinan, her tone measured and calm: “I did not kill Leng Yue. Are you angry?”
“My lord, you should not have gone to the Ninth Prince’s Manor tonight.” Feng Yinan sighed softly, yet he smiled. “I am fine, my lord. I was only worried that something would happen to you at the Ninth Prince’s Manor.”
Now that she was back safely, that was enough. That place — he never wished for her to go there again.
Feng Jiu lowered her gaze, eyes settling on his leg wrapped in layer upon layer of gauze. Her slender fingers drifted lightly over the bandaging, and her voice fell lower and lower: “Originally, in about another half a month, you would have been close to standing again.”
The implication was clear — though Leng Yue had not injured Feng Yinan’s tendons or bones this time, the wounds to his flesh were still severe enough to have set back his recovery.
“At least, thankfully, he can still heal.” She drew her gaze back, set the medicine vial into its case, and finally rose to her feet. She looked down at Feng Yinan seated at the bedside, her tone quiet: “Do not worry…”
“My lord, I do not need you to avenge me!” Feng Yinan looked at her with utter sincerity, his eyes fixed on her with great intensity. “This vengeance — wait until I have recovered, and I will settle it myself. All right?”
She said nothing. Feng Yinan simply did not want to make things difficult for her.
Xiao Yingtao, that loose-tongued girl, had likely chattered on endlessly to Feng Yinan in idle conversation — about her and the Ninth Imperial Uncle, one way and another.
Feng Jiu did not particularly mind. They were all her own people. It was only that she did not wish for everyone to think there was something special between her and the Ninth Imperial Uncle.
“Rest well.” She neither agreed to Feng Yinan’s request, nor refused it.
She stood, turned, and glanced back at Xiao Yingtao: “Take good care of him.”
“I know.” Xiao Yingtao was still afraid she had said the wrong things earlier — tonight, my lord truly seemed to be in a very poor mood.
Though her face still showed almost nothing, those who had lived alongside her long enough had naturally learned to read her more carefully.
Feng Jiu said nothing more. She gathered her things, picked up her specialized medicine case, and stepped out the door.
Outside, the bright moon hung high. The moonlight was clearly beautiful tonight — yet the sight of that brilliant moon made Feng Jiu’s heart tighten by several degrees.
It was nearly the middle of the month again. The night of the full moon was almost here.
On Yan’s side — before the full moon night had even arrived, the Gu Poison had already begun to stir. By the time the night of the full moon came, there was no telling what state things would be in.
Her new medicine was still being refined. This time, Feng Jiu had confidence that this medicine could serve as a guiding agent, driving the Gu Poison out of Yan’s body.
But the prerequisite was that, before then, the Gu Poison within Yan would not undergo any further changes.
Gazing at the moonlight on this sleepless night, Feng Jiu suddenly found within herself a reluctance to return to her room.
She did not quite know what she was avoiding, yet she simply did not wish to go back just now.
She turned and walked toward the west wing.
Tonight, Xue Gu was not here. The west wing, always quiet, felt even more hushed and still than usual.
Feng Jiu walked inside. Through the paper windowpane, she could faintly make out that slender silhouette within.
He sat in the long chair, calm and still, seemingly lost in something she could not quite discern.
Feng Jiu simply knocked on the door, then pushed it open and stepped inside.
This place had rarely had visitors. Though they all lived in the rear courtyard of Tianji Hall, Xiao Yingtao and the others hardly ever came here.
On the days when Xue Gu was away, those who would come to this place — aside from the servants — were essentially only Feng Jiu.
Yan was reading a book. Seeing Feng Jiu enter, he seemed entirely accustomed to it. Without any pleasantries, he simply poured her a cup of tea.
Feng Jiu sat down on the other side of the tea table. Her gaze fell on the book in his hands: “The Way of Governing a Nation?”
It seemed that those born into the imperial family had this sort of devotion to statecraft woven into their very bones. She asked with a smile: “Have you formed any thoughts or insights?”