“Long Feiyan! I killed you!” Nanmeng Rong suddenly seemed to go mad, leaping up from the ground to lunge at the woman in the wheelchair.

But she had forgotten the iron chains still locked around her ankles—the moment she rose, before she could even lunge, she crashed to the floor with a heavy thud.

As for the woman in the wheelchair, the corners of her lips curved in a faint smile as she watched the other’s frenzied display with perfect composure.

There was no need for the posture of a victor; simply observing calmly was enough to drive the other into utter despair.

Because of the comparison, because of the gulf between them, because… the other still shone as brilliantly as a star in the heavens, while she herself lay in the dirt like mud—and so Nanmeng Rong despaired, truly despaired.

Why was there nothing about her that could measure up?

The woman seated in the wheelchair was none other than Long Feiyan—the very woman everyone had believed died in battle at Mount Polang a decade ago, her body never even recovered.

“Why aren’t you dead yet?” Nanmeng Rong screamed hoarsely, sprawled on the ground, glaring fiercely at that face she so resented.

It had been the appearance of this very woman that had once plunged her entire world into darkness.

Not just her—so many others, so many women who might otherwise have shone as brightly as stars, had all lost their luster entirely the moment Long Feiyan turned sixteen and appeared before the world.

Even the once-stunning Empress of the inner palace, the mother of the nation, had been heartbroken by Long Feiyan’s emergence.

Long Feiyan! Couldn’t she have simply stayed quietly in her chambers, married off peacefully? Why did she have to appear before the eyes of every man in existence?

Why did she have to make all those men lose their minds over her, forget everything else?

Nanmeng Rong hated her—had always hated her! If not for Long Feiyan, she herself would rightfully have been the foremost beauty.

“Of course you’d wish I were already dead.” Long Feiyan leaned back against the chair, regarding her filthy, disheveled figure coolly. “Back then at Mount Polang, you deliberately withheld the main army, letting my Long family troops be wiped out entirely—wasn’t that exactly so you could watch me die?”

There was no hatred in her gaze, because Nanmeng Rong didn’t even deserve that. A mere Nanmeng Rong wasn’t worth her hatred.

“Tell me, who were the mysterious death squads that ambushed my Long family troops back then? Tell me, and I’ll let you keep your body whole.”

“Death squads…” Nanmeng Rong murmured, then suddenly laughed. “Heh, Long Feiyan, aren’t you supposed to be so capable? Why can’t you even figure out who ultimately harmed you?”

Nanmeng Rong had known all along that other forces had also wanted this woman dead back then.

She had only withheld the army—but someone else had been impatient, going so far as to send people directly to surround and slaughter them!

With all the enemies Long Feiyan had made, was it really so strange that there’d be so many wanting her dead?

It was just a pity for those loyal brothers of hers, losing their lives over their commander’s personal grudges.

“Heh, countless people wanted you dead, Long Feiyan—what does it matter who exactly it was?”

Nanmeng Rong sneered, only regretting that the battle hadn’t actually managed to take Long Feiyan’s life after all!

Her gaze slowly drifted downward, landing on the blanket covering Long Feiyan’s legs. Suddenly, Nanmeng Rong burst into laughter. “Ha, hahaha! Long Feiyan, to think you’d end up like this too! Hahaha…”

Those legs were clearly ruined—her legs had been destroyed! No matter how beautiful she still looked, what good was it now? She couldn’t even stand, let alone seduce any man!

Nanmeng Rong was truly delighted! It had been so long since she’d felt this happy—it seemed that as long as Long Feiyan suffered, her own circumstances no longer mattered at all.

In her entire life, the person she hated most, always and forever, was the woman before her now!

“Your legs are like that, and you still think you can come back and seduce men? Heh, you really overestimate yourself! Is there a single man left in this world who would still want you?”

Long Feiyan only shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “I never imagined that after ten years apart, you’d still be that same shallow woman. To you, is pleasing men the only purpose of living?”

“Hmph! Why would I need to please any man? It has always been men who come to please me!”

Nanmeng Rong’s face still wore that smug smile, staring at Long Feiyan’s legs with undisguised delight.

“Nanmeng Rong, you were once so sharp-minded—if you’d taken up arms on the battlefield, you might well have made a fine general. What a pity it’s come to this.”

“Pity what?” Nanmeng Rong eyed her, scoffing. “Do you think you’re so impressive?”

“There’s nothing impressive about it in this world. But it’s truly a pity that you’ve spent your entire life wasting your time on men.”

Petty and small-minded—as if she thought everyone else had to be like her, scheming endlessly just to win a man’s favor.

What Nanmeng Rong wanted was precisely what Long Feiyan held in the least regard.

“Long Feiyan, don’t think you can fool me with words like that. Don’t you feel even a flicker of sorrow, looking at yourself now?”

In this world, was there any woman who didn’t love beauty, who didn’t wish for every man’s gaze to linger on her alone?

Qing Ye truly couldn’t bear to listen any longer. Narrow-minded as ever—of course she’d see everyone else through the same lens.

But was Nanmeng Rong perhaps a little too confident? Did she still not understand the position she was in?

“Consort Rong, have you still not realized how you ended up in our master’s hands?”

Nanmeng Rong blinked, startled. She… how had she ended up in Long Feiyan’s hands? Hadn’t she been locked away by Emperor Qiwen’s own people?

This time, the place she’d been imprisoned wasn’t some proper dungeon—just an abandoned dark chamber. She had assumed that before long, Emperor Qiwen and her son Heng would come for her together.

Surely Emperor Qiwen wouldn’t actually have her killed—he wouldn’t dare, even if given the boldest courage imaginable.

But she never imagined that, before her son or that wretched emperor ever arrived, she would instead come face to face with Long Feiyan—this woman she had clearly stabbed to death over a decade ago.

Why… why had she ended up in Long Feiyan’s hands? And why was Long Feiyan even inside the palace at all?

Qing Ye scoffed, clearly unable to stomach her mocking attitude any longer. She said coldly, “It was Emperor Qiwen himself who handed you over to our master, to use as he pleased to pass the time.”

Qing Zhi stepped forward as well, sneering. “That’s right, Consort Rong. Do you still think our master is inferior to you? It’s true our master never bothered to please men—because our master never needed to. Those men would offer up everything she wanted, with both hands, of their own accord!”