“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Feng Qingyin gave a snort, a cold smile on her lips.

“His Majesty will most likely agree in the end. Refusing for now simply makes the Crown Prince feel his demand was excessive — once he’s been made to settle for this much, he won’t push for anything more.”

This was the art of negotiation — if Crown Prince Brother weren’t made to feel the request was riddled with difficulty, he might well go on demanding still more.

Now that even a single request to posthumously honor his mother had proven so difficult for Crown Prince Brother to obtain, he would naturally not dare hope for much else.

“Consort Rong must truly have taken her own life — otherwise, the Crown Prince would surely be pressing the investigation.”

She closed her eyes briefly, and all at once her mood seemed to lift considerably.

Right now Crown Prince Brother must be at his most grief-stricken. If she went to comfort him, would he be moved?

Crown Prince Brother… even though they shared the same palace, in ordinary days she could hardly ever see him at all. She truly, truly missed him.

The carriage moved along the courtyard path at a leisurely pace. The breeze lifted a corner of the curtain, and Feng Qingyin suddenly narrowed her eyes as a tall, slender figure came into view.

“He’s still in the manor?” This person seemed to have vanished from everyone’s sight for a very long time — at the very least, she herself hadn’t seen him in half a year.

Ever since Feng Jiu’er’s disappearance, this person had become utterly worthless in her eyes.

Linglong, being from the palace, knew nothing of anyone within Feng Manor — but since Her Highness had spoken, she had the carriage brought to a stop at once.

“Your Highness, what is it?” Linglong asked quietly through the curtain.

Feng Qingyin stared at that distant figure. After a moment, a smile suddenly curled at her lips. “Find me a few men…”

…

The old patriarch of the Feng family, just like Nanmen Ye before him, had in fact suffered a stroke.

Once one reached a certain age, stroke was an extremely common ailment. In this era it was called “evil wind entering the body,” and ordinary physicians simply could not treat it.

Feng Jiu’er administered acupuncture and bloodletting, wrote out a prescription, and explained the emergency steps to take should such symptoms ever recur, before finally stepping out, accompanied by Feng Junzhuo.

The reason Feng Junzhuo cared so much about the Old Master’s health right now was that he himself had not yet managed to secure a firm footing within the Feng family.

For although Feng Qingyin now held the noble rank of Noble Consort, he, her own father, still held no official title.

Meanwhile, his second and third younger brothers were both generals guarding the border, each having rendered great service to Emperor Qiwen.

In every respect, he himself fell short of them. If the Old Master were to pass away before he secured an official title, and the family had to be divided, he would have little chance of coming out ahead.

He was, of course, unwilling to see the family divided. If he could be granted the title of Duke, then there would be no need to divide the household at all — he would surely hold power going forward, and could keep the entirety of the Feng family’s wealth in his own hands.

As long as he refused to divide the family, his second and third brothers could not force a division even if they wished to. And as long as nothing was divided, every resource remained under his control, his alone to distribute — in effect, all of it would be his.

In short, he had to secure a high-ranking title before the Old Master drew his last breath. If Feng Qingyin had not yet become Empress, and he himself had not yet become a Duke, by the time the Old Master died, his second and third brothers’ households would certainly return to divide up the family’s estate.

“Then tell me, sir, when will the Old Master’s illness improve?” At this moment Feng Junzhuo behaved just like a model of filial devotion, attending personally to every smallest detail.

“Full recovery from this illness is impossible, but with proper rest and care, his body can gradually improve.”

Feng Jiu’er could perhaps guess some of the reasons behind his sudden devotion, but whatever Feng Junzhuo’s true motives might be, as long as he genuinely wished for the Old Master’s recovery right now, it counted as a good thing in Feng Jiu’er’s eyes.

She continued, “From now on, do not agitate the Old Master, and don’t let him be burdened with too many worries. Keep him calm and free of excessive desire, and keep his diet light. As long as the illness doesn’t flare up again, he’ll recover.”

“Of course, should it flare up again, you must follow exactly what I’ve told you — bleed him at once as emergency treatment, and send someone immediately to notify me.”

“Yes, certainly, certainly.” Having just seen the Old Master’s spirits improve somewhat, Feng Junzhuo now placed enormous trust in Feng Jiu’s medical skill.

Whatever Feng Jiu said now was as good as law to him — the Old Master’s condition absolutely had to be held in check, and moreover, Feng Qingyin needed to rise quickly to a higher standing.

“Sir, as for the consultation fee — please tell me the amount, and I’ll have it sent to you right away.”

Feng Jiu’er had originally meant to say today’s visit was a free consultation, but given Feng Qingyin’s suspicious nature, claiming it was free would likely stir up further trouble.

After a moment’s thought, she said, “As for the fee…”

Her words broke off abruptly as several figures came into view not far away. Her brow furrowed, and she strode quickly toward them.

Feng Junzhuo, unsure at first what was happening, followed a few steps behind and immediately saw the whole scene clearly.

“What’s going on here? What’s all this commotion?” Feng Junzhuo’s face darkened. With a guest present, he naturally had no wish for such a scene to be unfolding within the household.

Several servants holding wooden clubs immediately stopped what they were doing and stepped forward to bow to Feng Junzhuo. “Master!”

“What is going on?” Someone was actually being beaten here, and so brutally too! The man being beaten looked somehow familiar — that battered, swollen face: “Isn’t this… the servant who belonged to… Jiu’er?”

Feng Jiu’er’s fists clenched tight as she watched Yanu, who had just barely managed to struggle up and now stood with his head bowed, blood still trickling from his temple. Her heart twisted painfully.

She had always wanted to come back and check on Yanu, yet she had feared that bringing him along might truly expose her identity.

She had originally thought that if Yanu could live quietly at Feng Manor, there would be no need for him to follow her around — after all, anyone who stayed by her side was never truly safe.

But she hadn’t known that, in some corner beyond her sight, Yanu had still been suffering such pain all along!

Perhaps this was simply one of Feng Qingyin’s schemes. If not, why would it happen precisely now, precisely on the very day she had come here, and precisely along the path she had to take when leaving — for Yanu to be beaten so savagely?

In all likelihood, this was nothing more than a means by which Feng Qingyin sought to test her.

But even knowing full well it was a test, how could she possibly see Yanu in such a state and simply ignore it?

With Feng Qingyin’s current standing, killing Yanu would be a simple matter — she need only pin some charge of insolence toward a superior on him, and she could have him beaten to death without consequence.

Now that Feng Qingyin was already aware of Yanu’s existence, even if Feng Jiu’er ignored this today and gave nothing away, there was no telling when, on some future whim, Feng Qingyin might simply decide she didn’t like the look of him and have him killed all the same.

She clenched her palm, gripping it tighter and tighter, her nails nearly digging into her own flesh, without even noticing.

The servant who had stepped forward looked at Feng Junzhuo and replied, “Master, Yanu offended Her Highness the Noble Consort just now. Her Highness, in her mercy, merely had us teach Yanu a lesson — we were simply punishing this guilty servant.”