“Jian Yi, my grandfather is not doing well — I mentioned this to you before.”

Feng Qingyin clutched her handkerchief, biting her lip. She looked, as she always did, utterly forlorn — pitifully delicate.

“You know the situation within the Feng Family. If I do not do something to help my father secure his position in the family, and something were to happen to my grandfather one day… if Grandfather were to pass, then my father would…”

This was not the place to say certain things aloud, but Feng Qingyin knew Jian Yi understood.

And indeed — though Jian Yi still wore that cold, expressionless look — there was a faint flicker of something in the set of his brow.

He knew the difficulties she faced within the Feng Family. The old patriarch of the Feng Family had more than one son — Feng Junzhuo was not his only child. Her second uncle and third uncle were said to hold considerable positions at court as well.

Though he did not feel that any of this had anything to do with him, Feng Qingyin was still his benefactress. If it were possible, he hoped she might live well.

“Jian Yi, even though I am Noble Consort now, my life in the palace is far from easy — the others below are one by one vying for the Emperor’s favor, and they all want to climb above me…”

Feng Qingyin bit her lip and said no more. She could see that Jian Yi had no interest whatsoever in the scheming and backstabbing between palace women.

She could only say, “If I lose my standing, my life — and that of my father and mother — will become a living death. Those who were once beneath me will find every way possible to frame me, even to kill me.”

He still showed no reaction. Feng Qingyin was truly exasperated. Why was Jian Yi so much harder to move now than before? She had been coaxing him at length, and yet he showed not a trace of pity — he had never been like this before.

She tightened her grip on the handkerchief in secret, though her voice remained as soft and yielding as ever, as if a single breath of wind might knock her over.

“Have you forgotten Nanmeng Rong? She was once so formidable, so illustrious — yet what fate did she come to in the end?”

Jian Yi still made no reaction. As for why Nanmeng Rong had come to such an end — had Feng Qingyin herself not been among those who pushed her down? She had long wanted to deal with Nanmeng Rong, and that night’s scheme to frame her had been done for Feng Qingyin’s benefit.

Feng Qingyin continued, “She did evil in her time and deserved her end, but I have done nothing wrong. Yet in this inner palace, the moment you fall from favor, countless people will pile on.”

She moved to stand before Jian Yi and said softly, “Jian Yi, once they gain the upper hand, they will find every means to harm me. Sooner or later I will be killed by those women.”

“You can choose to leave the palace.” He had been telling her this all along — she had simply never listened.

Yet Jian Yi also found himself noticing a subtle shift in his own state of mind.

Since the moment he had witnessed her seducing Zhan Yuheng — even going so far as to act with him in such a way — whatever feeling he had once held for this woman seemed entirely spent.

Before, he had genuinely wished to take her away from the palace and build a life with her. Now, he only hoped she might live out her remaining years in peace — but he had no desire to be part of those remaining years himself.

Jian Yi’s heart had changed. Feng Qingyin could see it easily.

He no longer looked at her with the tenderness and pity of before. Now, no matter what she told him of her grievances, he listened as one might watch a performance on a stage.

She knew, in her heart. After he had witnessed with his own eyes what she had done with another man, for him to still believe in her soft and helpless side — that would require someone truly as dull-witted as a pig.

At this moment, even Feng Qingyin was beginning to feel powerless — she could no longer find any way to make him change his mind.

“Jian Yi, I know you are still angry. There are some things I will not force upon you — but what you owe me…”

“What I owe you, I will return without fail.” At the very least, what he had promised, he would carry out.

“Then — if you are unwilling to harm Feng Jiu — help me with one thing instead.”

Feng Qingyin’s expression cooled slightly, her voice dropping: “I want Feng Jiu’s right hand.”

“She is a physician!” And from what Jian Yi had observed over these three days, Feng Jiu’s needling technique was extraordinarily unusual. Her right hand was more dexterous than anyone else’s.

To destroy that hand would be no different from taking her life.

“Since you will not kill her, I need only her right hand. Jian Yi — as long as you do this for me, what you owe me will be settled once and for all.”

He wanted to refuse, but Feng Qingyin would not allow it. “Unless you wish to be someone who goes back on their word? Jian Yi, you have always done as you said — you swore to repay my kindness, and so you will. Is that not so?”

She took a step forward. “Are you really going to force me to say outright that I want you to kill Feng Jiu?”

Jian Yi stepped back two paces — not knowing whether it was her words that had driven him into a corner, or his own promise to her that had left his heart like cold ash.

He kept his word. He had said he would repay the debt, and so he would.

Feng Jiu’s hand…

“It is only one hand — in exchange for her life. Is that not worth it?” Feng Qingyin knew she had moved him.

For someone like Jian Yi, a promise was the most important thing in the world.

A man who did not keep his word was not worth the air he breathed, as far as he was concerned.

What was more — having committed himself to owing her this debt, no matter how unwilling he might be, he would repay it.

Feng Qingyin drew closer to him without betraying it in her expression, her slender fingers coming to rest on his chest, softly tracing the contours of his muscles through his robe.

“It is only one hand. After this, I will no longer trouble her at all. In this way, the score between her and me will be settled, you will no longer need to think about how to repay my kindness, and everything — will that not be perfect?”

…Jian Yi left shortly after. Though his expression had remained as grim as ever throughout, at the very least he had not uttered a single word of refusal.

Feng Qingyin did not trouble the people of Tianji Hall further. After Jian Yi departed, she too boarded her carriage and left.

“Noble Consort.” Once back at her palace chambers, Lingling could not help but ask, “How did it go? How did he come to be at Tianji Hall?”

“I don’t know.” The truth was, Jian Yi had scarcely exchanged more than a few words with Feng Qingyin that day. Facing her now, he was not even willing to say much.

“Is he still angry about what happened that night…” Lingling did not dare finish the sentence.

Feng Qingyin let out a cold huff. Even so, the whole matter left her deeply dejected. “What do you think — how can I win back his heart?”

Demanding Feng Jiu’er’s right hand was only the beginning. Once Jian Yi truly destroyed Feng Jiu’er’s hand, what she wanted next was Feng Jiu’er’s life.

But Jian Yi might truly be willing to destroy Feng Jiu’er’s hand — yet his promise not to kill Feng Jiu was one he would keep without exception. The man really was a person of his word.

The most frustrating thing of all was that Jian Yi’s heart had already detached itself from her. He no longer cherished her the way he once had. What was to be done? She was still unwilling to give up such a valuable piece on her board.

Was there truly no way to reclaim Jian Yi’s heart?