Feng Jiang’s robe had been torn open by A’Jiu with one sharp pull, and the wounds beneath were now starkly exposed before them.

Across his body, welt after welt from a cane or whip — crisscrossed over one another — all of them clearly fresh wounds.

“Imperial Father didn’t do this.” Feng Jiang quickly clarified.

“Then it must have been Imperial Father’s orders!” In this entire palace, who besides the Emperor would dare lay such a heavy hand upon an Imperial Prince?

Feng Jiang said nothing. Feng Jiu’er’s heart ached — she knew she was the one who had caused this.

“I’m sorry…”

“What does any of this have to do with you? It was I who came to find you on my own and took you out.”

Feng Jiang smiled and pulled her hand away, his whole manner utterly unconcerned.

“Don’t take it to heart — it’s only a minor injury. It’ll heal quickly. And next time, I’ll definitely be more careful — I won’t let Imperial Father find out again. All right?”

“You would dare to do it again?” Feng Jiu’er shot him a look, then pulled him aside and sat him down.

Seeing her take out the medicine box and, with practiced ease, retrieve the wound powder from within it, Feng Jiang was a little astonished: “You know how to dress a wound?”

Could she dress a wound? Even A’Jiu herself didn’t know the answer.

But looking at these medicines, she knew instinctively what to do with each of them — and moreover, she had her own methods.

It was as though no one had ever needed to teach her. One glance was all she needed to know exactly what each medicine was for.

“Perhaps it’s because I grew used to using them before, so…”

“Weren’t you recuperating at an estate outside the palace the whole time? How would you have had any contact with these medicines?” Feng Jiang looked puzzled.

“How should I know? Anyway, I know how to use them — and I have my own secret technique.”

A’Jiu pulled a chair over, sat down in front of him, and tore his robe open with a swift pull.

This made Feng Jiang a little uncomfortable. This was a proper young lady — was it really all right for her to be this familiar with undressing men?

Of course, he harbored no doubts about A’Jiu’s past. The girl had an air of frank integrity about her that no ordinary woman could match.

He was simply curious — the practiced ease with which this little girl tore open his robe and then cleaned his wounds was far too fluent.

“Ow!” That actually hurt — what was that?

He looked down at his wound and frowned: “What are you doing? That’s killing me.”

“Disinfecting.” These two words — she didn’t know where she had learned them either, but she knew them all the same.

“Lucky you’re such a drinker — otherwise, I wouldn’t know where to find spirits strong enough for this!”

Feng Jiang was by now in too much pain to form words. He could only watch as she dabbed his wounds with gauze soaked in the liquor.

The pain had his forehead and face drenched in sweat — yet this girl’s expression was utterly calm. Truly, utterly cold.

When Feng Jiu’er practiced medicine, she wore only one expression — which was to say, no expression at all.

Disinfect. Apply the medicine. Then, with her own particular technique, she pressed the acupoints at the edges of his wounds and used her fingers to work the medicine deep into his body.

Though it was genuinely agonizing at first, by the end — miraculously — it hardly hurt at all.

“Extraordinary! Who taught you that?” Once Feng Jiang had changed into fresh clothes, he was immediately full of life again, in excellent spirits.

A’Jiu’s method of pressing the acupoints was something he had never witnessed before — yet its effect was stunning.

“What if I told you that even I don’t know where I learned it?”

Feng Jiu’er finished tidying away the things and lowered her head to look at her own hands, her eyes full of confusion and uncertainty.

Why did she know all of this? And most importantly — she always felt that what she knew went far, far beyond this little bit.

Where on earth had she learned it? Yet she had not the faintest memory of it.

“Did you truly spend sixteen years recuperating at an estate?” Feng Jiang had put on his clothes and walked over to sit down beside her.

A’Jiu looked up and met his gaze — wanting to know the answer even more than he did.

“Did I truly spend sixteen years recuperating at an estate?”

“What kind of question is that to ask? These are your own affairs.” Feng Jiang frowned. Had this girl’s mind truly gone to pieces?

“Then — where exactly is this estate I was recuperating at?”

If she went back to take a look at the estate, might it stir up some memory from the past and allow her to recall things that had happened before?

How was it that the past sixteen years had left nothing but a blank void in her mind?

This question genuinely stumped Feng Jiang.

Where was the estate where his little Imperial Sister had been recuperating? No one had ever brought it up.

He and Second Imperial Elder Brother and First Imperial Elder Brother were all the same in this — they only knew that their little Imperial Sister had returned from an estate. As for which estate, in which direction, it seemed as though Imperial Father had truly never said.

“Even you all don’t know?” She was a princess, after all — if she had gone to an estate to recuperate, how could it have been done so quietly, without a word to anyone?

“In all those years — did none of you ever come to visit me?”

A’Jiu’s small face fell, and she was clearly displeased: “What kind of elder brothers are you? You showed me not the slightest concern.”

“I…” Feng Jiang truly felt wronged. For all those years, he hadn’t even known they had a little Imperial Sister — was that not the truth of it?

For those years, Imperial Father had not breathed a single word about it. How were they supposed to know?

Feng Jiu’er took one look at his expression and guessed the heart of the matter.

But why? Her identity seemed to be of no small significance — the future Empress?

If what Third Imperial Elder Brother had said was true, then she was the heir to the throne.

The heir to the throne was someone who had vanished for over a decade and then suddenly returned — even just hearing it said aloud, this sounded utterly inconceivable.

“Oh, stop dwelling on all of this — as long as everything’s fine now and you’ve come back, that’s what matters.”

Though the wounds on Feng Jiang’s body felt a good deal better, there was no denying that he had only just received them — and he still felt rather wretched.

There was no need to drag out these irrelevant questions and trouble him further.

He glanced at the door he had just shut, then thought of the pastries that had scattered across the floor when Feng Jiu’er came in. He said: “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I’ve already eaten. Those pastries were brought especially for you — it’s a pity they spilled.”

“You’ve already eaten? Then — did you see Imperial Father?”

“I had breakfast with Imperial Father.” A’Jiu knew what he was worried about and quickly smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry — Imperial Father didn’t make things difficult for me. He only asked about last night, and I…”

At this point, A’Jiu grew a little sheepish.

She snuck a quick sideways look at him, then counted on her fingers and said in a small voice: “That is… I was pressed by Imperial Father and, without meaning to, I gave you away.”

Of course it hadn’t been entirely “without meaning to.” She had well and truly named him outright.

But at the time, there was truly nothing else she could do. If she hadn’t told the truth, Imperial Father might well have become even more furious.

“Imperial Father already knew everything. If you hadn’t spoken the truth, he would have had me beaten even harder… Never mind — it’s over and done with now.”

“Does Imperial Father often beat you?”

“Imperial Father doesn’t beat me — he is simply strict with us. It is all for our own good.”

Feng Jiang seemed to take the beating entirely in stride, without the slightest grievance.

A’Jiu looked at his retreating figure, and for no clear reason felt a pang of something desolate.

Being strict was one thing — but to beat one’s own son like this was surely a cruelty too far?

Someone who didn’t know better might actually think Third Imperial Elder Brother wasn’t Imperial Father’s son at all.