“Father, why have you brought this person in?” Feng Qingyin was indeed at Feng Manor. Seeing Feng Jiu’er in men’s clothing, she leapt to her feet at once.

“You… you actually came here on your own? So you really are… you…”

“Greetings, Your Highness.” Feng Jiu’er paid no attention to her agitation at all, calmly bowing in proper form.

Feng Junzhuo glanced at Feng Qingyin with a flicker of suspicion. “Your Highness, do you… know each other?”

Although Feng Qingyin was his own daughter, once she returned to this household there was no shortage of formality required — even Feng Junzhuo and the Old Master had to address her as “Your Highness.”

Any servant in the household who showed her the slightest insufficient respect would either be brutally beaten or simply have their life taken.

As for the young ladies of the household, anyone who dared show improper manners before her would find a scolding to be the least of it — if she grew the slightest bit displeased, she might well have them slapped across the face.

In short, Feng Qingyin now held an utterly supreme position within Feng Manor, and her mother, Yu Niang, had already become Feng Junzhuo’s principal wife.

With enough power, anything was possible.

Those who had once looked down on the two of them, mother and daughter, had now, one by one, received their comeuppance.

Feng Qingyin glared at Feng Jiu’er, who simply said, “I have, of late, often entered the palace to take His Majesty’s pulse for a routine check, and so naturally I have seen Your Highness before. I merely wonder whether Your Highness still remembers me.”

Feng Qingyin frowned. Was this fellow reminding her that he was currently a favored figure at Emperor Qiwen’s side, and that she couldn’t move against him for now?

Still, arrogant as Feng Qingyin was, she wasn’t so blind as to fail to read the situation entirely.

She had heard that the Nanmen household had recently run into trouble — some matters that even the Crown Prince could not investigate. As a mere consort of the harem, she certainly had no business getting involved.

But she knew that Feng Jiu had a hand in it!

This Feng Jiu was, in truth, a trusted confidant of Emperor Qiwen now. What secret scheme they were plotting together in the palace, she had no idea.

She exhaled slowly before saying, “Yes, we’ve met a few times, but…”

Feng Qingyin’s gaze settled on Feng Jiu’er. This face was indeed unfamiliar to her — and even at such close range, she couldn’t detect the slightest trace of a human-skin mask.

And yet, why did this face feel somehow different from the one she had seen before?

Feng Qingyin couldn’t quite pin down what was different, but all the same, something about it simply felt off.

Feng Jiu’er remained expressionless throughout, though in truth she did harbor a touch of resentment in her heart.

That Ninth Imperial Uncle of hers had insisted on seeing her original face, forcing her to wash off the disguise solution and only manage to reapply it on the second try.

Because she had rushed it somewhat, the faint mole near the corner of her brow ended up positioned slightly higher than it should be. An ordinary person wouldn’t notice, but someone like Feng Qingyin, who stared at her constantly looking for any flaw to expose, was a different matter.

In the end, however, Feng Qingyin gave up dwelling on her face. She asked in a low voice, “What have you come here for?”

“In answer to Your Highness, I came at the invitation of…”

“Your Highness, it was I who invited Sir Feng Jiu here to examine my father.” Feng Junzhuo explained at once.

Feng Qingyin still shot Feng Jiu another glance. Just then, her young palace maid hurried in from outside and whispered a few words to her.

Feng Qingyin appeared visibly anxious. Looking back at Feng Jiu, she gave a snort. “Then see to my grandfather properly. If he is not cured, I will hold you responsible.”

“Your Highness, I am merely a physician, not some immortal deity. There are so many stubborn and difficult ailments in this world that I truly cannot guarantee curing every single patient.”

“How dare you!” Feng Qingyin’s temper flared instantly. And he claimed not to be Feng Jiu’er? If he weren’t, where would he get the nerve to talk back to her like this?

“You—” Feng Qingyin nearly choked on her own fury. “Guards! Drag this lowlife out and beat him to death!”

Whether he was Feng Jiu’er or not, beating him to death would be a good thing either way!

“Your… Your Highness! That cannot be done!” Feng Junzhuo now felt nothing but disgust for this daughter of his. Beating people to death at the slightest provocation — even though their household hadn’t exactly treated its servants well in the past, they had never done anything so utterly heartless.

This Feng Qingyin — ever since becoming a Noble Consort, she had truly… truly grown far too arrogant!

“Your Highness, this gentleman still needs to examine my father. Your Highness, I beg you, for my father’s sake, please spare him just this once.”

In truth, Feng Qingyin didn’t dare push this matter too far either. After all, she still hadn’t figured out exactly what role Feng Jiu played at Emperor Qiwen’s side.

Right now was precisely the moment of Nanmeng Rong’s downfall. If nothing went wrong at this critical time, she might very soon be able to coax that old man into making her Empress.

Feng Junzhuo also drew closer to Feng Qingyin, saying carefully, “Your Highness, today… is not the day to lose your temper. The bigger picture matters more.”

Although Feng Qingyin didn’t think much of her own father either — after all, she had once had to curry his favor, and had been scolded by him more than a few times in the past.

Still, in some sense, she knew that Feng Junzhuo genuinely had her best interests at heart.

Only if she fared well in the palace would his own days go more smoothly. If she became Empress someday, he might yet have a chance to become a Duke himself, as commanding as Nanmeng Ye had once been.

She gave a snort, swept her sleeves, and walked off.

The young palace maid Linglong followed at once behind her. Feng Junzhuo personally saw her out to the gate, then turned back, since he still needed to take Feng Jiu to examine the Old Master.

Everyone in the room respectfully saw Feng Qingyin off. Although Yu Niang was her birth mother, Feng Qingyin clearly had little fondness for having her walk by her side.

So, when seeing her out, Yu Niang could only walk behind, alongside several of the young ladies of the Feng family.

Feng Qingyin’s gold-trimmed carriage stood waiting in the courtyard. The moment she climbed aboard, she had Linglong come in as well and asked in a low voice, “Is she really dead?”

“Yes, truly dead. Word came from a palace maid — the Crown Prince is still kneeling before Yuxiao Hall right now.”

“How did she die?” That Nanmeng Rong had actually died like this. Although Feng Qingyin had also assumed that, once the Nanmen clan changed hands, this woman would no longer be able to stir up much trouble.

Still, dying so suddenly left a vague, lingering unease.

“I heard she took her own life out of guilt — severed her own meridians and died.”

“Then why is the Crown Prince kneeling outside Yuxiao Hall? Could he still wish to seek justice for his mother?” Nanmeng Rong had harmed so many people throughout her life — not only consorts of the harem, but imperial princes as well.

For all the sins she had committed, what justice could there possibly be to seek? Though Zhan Yuheng loved his mother, surely he couldn’t be so blind to right and wrong.

“It’s said he wishes to beg His Majesty to posthumously grant Consort Rong the title of Empress and have her enshrined in the ancestral temple.”

Linglong had the carriage set off before adding quietly, “Consort Rong committed so many evils — how could His Majesty possibly agree to such a posthumous honor now?”