“What kind of nonsense is that?” Talk of dying and not dying — when that word applied to Jian Yi himself, it meant nothing to him. After all, with his thick skin and rough constitution, living on the edge of a blade year after year, death was actually quite a familiar thing to him.

But Jiu’er — a soft and delicate young girl — hearing that word applied to her made one uneasy.

As they walked, they came into the line of sight of the palace guards.

When they encountered the first group of guards, Jian Yi was taut as a bowstring, appearing as though he might strike at any moment.

But Jiu’er was relaxed and at ease, and those guards did not do anything to him at all — on the contrary, they came before Jiu’er and bowed respectfully.

As for him, this outsider who had appeared in the palace for no apparent reason, they seemed to regard him as though he were invisible.

By the time they encountered the second group of guards, Jian Yi was no longer as tense, and the true energy he had gathered in his palms dissipated.

By the third group, he could face them as calmly as Jiu’er did.

“When we meet the Emperor in a moment, no matter what I say, do not contradict me — understood?”

The two of them were nearly at Feng Qiongcang’s bedchamber. The guard presence here was visibly more stringent than anywhere else in the palace.

Wave after wave of sentries, and beyond them, skilled fighters concealed in the shadows all around.

A place concealing such extraordinary talent — the person within could only be the Feng clan’s emperor, no one else.

Jian Yi still did not understand what Jiu’er intended, but he was willing to listen to her.

“Understood.” Jian Yi nodded, and together the two of them entered Feng Qiongcang’s bedchamber.

Before they crossed the threshold into the side hall, two guards stepped to block their path.

“This servant pays respects to the Princess!” After the two men bowed, one of them said: “Princess, we respectfully ask that this honorable hero surrender his sword at the waist.”

Feng Jiu’er looked at Jian Yi and gave a nod. Jian Yi immediately, without a moment’s hesitation, unsheathed the sword at his waist and handed it to one of the men.

He truly was very willing to do as she said — not only was he straightforward and a bit foolish, but his sincerity was entirely genuine.

Jiu’er patted her own cheek, and when she looked at him again, her smile was sweetly unguarded.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you to see the Emperor — the Emperor will surely like you.”

Jian Yi still could not quite make sense of the situation, but Jiu’er told him to walk, and he walked.

Feng Qiongcang was in the side hall, reviewing memorials.

When he saw Jiu’er enter with a young man at her side, he set down the memorial in his hand and studied the man before him carefully.

Indeed, this man’s appearance was extraordinarily fine — a match for, or perhaps even a rival to, his three sons in the palace.

What particularly struck him was the way this man seemed to place a kind of unconditional trust in Jiu’er — from the way his eyes followed her, Feng Qiongcang could read his nature at a glance.

His character was so transparent and candid — among those around him, it was rare to meet a man like this.

The only one he had encountered before was his own Fourth Imperial Brother, Feng Li.

Simple in heart, candid in conduct — and though Feng Li’s very existence had always stirred a certain discomfort in him, speaking purely of Feng Li’s nature, he had actually always been quite fond of this Fourth Imperial Brother of his.

Just as with the young man before him now — at first glance, Feng Qiongcang already found himself taking a liking to him.

Jiu’er, watching the situation carefully, quietly exhaled in relief.

In truth, she did not truly know Jian Yi’s character — after all, she could not remember anything from before.

But her instinct told her that a person as straightforward as Jian Yi would not put the Emperor on guard.

Coming before the hall, Feng Jiu’er said: “Imperial Father, this is Jian Yi.”

Jian Yi looked at Feng Qiongcang, not knowing whether to bow. It was only when Jiu’er prompted him — telling him to pay his respects to the Emperor — that Jian Yi woodenly cupped his fists together: “Greetings, Imperial Father.”

“Foolish!” Feng Jiu’er was momentarily dumbfounded, her face going red — and this time, the redness was entirely genuine, not a shred of pretense in it.

This blockhead — he truly was too foolish!

Jian Yi only then caught himself and quickly cupped his fists: “Greetings, Your Majesty of the Feng Clan.”

Feng Qiongcang was immediately amused, the corners of his lips curving into a deeper smile. “It is of no consequence. Since you are a man of the martial world, there is no need to be bound by so many rules here. Someone, bring a seat.”

It seemed the Emperor had taken quite a genuine liking to Jian Yi.

Jiu’er took Jian Yi’s hand and together the two of them sat down.

“Imperial Father, you asked me to bring Jian Yi — is there something you wished to say to him?”

This girl — in this respect, she was quite sharp.

Feng Qiongcang smiled and said: “Since everyone is present, let us speak of the matter of selecting a consort. An’bao, tell him about it.”

The eunuch An’bao, who stood at Feng Qiongcang’s side, bowed at once: “Yes, Your Majesty.”

An’bao looked at Jian Yi with a smile on his face: “Young Master, in a few days’ time, the palace will hold a grand selection ceremony to choose a consort for Princess Jiu’er. Since Young Master Jian Yi is the Princess’s beloved, you need not participate in the first round of the selection.”

“However, the Princess is of noble status, and those selected as her consort candidates must each be extraordinary men among men.”

An’bao looked at the baffled expression on Jian Yi’s face, his smile remaining warm and steady.

“Young Master Jian Yi, when the time comes, please apply yourself seriously to the final selection. Although the Princess has you in mind, if the result of the selection is too unfavorable, even if the matter is settled, it will become a subject of criticism among the people in the future.”

“This humble servant does not know whether Young Master Jian Yi understands.”

The meaning of these words was actually quite simple: even if Princess Jiu’er liked him, he could not assume that the Princess’s fondness alone was enough to secure him the position of her consort.

The requirements for the Princess’s consort were extremely stringent.

Of course, even if one did not win the selection, as long as the Princess liked him, he could still remain in the Princess’s chambers.

But the one who was formally selected as consort would naturally hold a status higher than that.

An’bao had already explained it this clearly, stopping just short of spelling it out directly — so why was this Young Master Jian Yi still wearing such a bewildered expression?

An’bao looked at Jian Yi. Jian Yi, however, turned to Feng Jiu’er: “Consort?”

“It simply means I am selecting a husband!” Jiu’er nearly rolled her eyes at him.

This fellow — his comprehension seemed to be rather poor.

“Husband…” This part, Jian Yi could actually grasp. But why was he being asked to participate?

No — wait. Jiu’er was selecting a husband?

Jian Yi’s heart gave a sharp jolt, and only then did it truly register.

He shot to his feet abruptly, staring at Feng Jiu’er with an expression of utter disbelief: “You are selecting a husband?”

What did that mean? Did she not already have someone she loved?

The Ninth Prince — was he not the one she held most dear?

And yet, with the Ninth Prince still gravely wounded, she was actually going to select a husband!

“What is so strange about that? I am of age.”

Jiu’er seemed to have already come to terms with the matter. She grabbed his sleeve and blinked at him: “Are you afraid you will not be chosen? Your martial arts are so exceptional — what is there to fear?”

Jian Yi opened his mouth, and then fell silent.

His exceptional martial arts — what did that have to do with her selecting a husband?

“You…” He thought hard for a good while, and when it finally dawned on this earnest and straightforward fellow, he drew in a sharp breath: “You want me to participate in the selection — to become your… husband?”

What sort of situation was this? Had this girl lost her mind as well, had she too become foolish?

How could he become her husband?

The person she loved was someone else entirely — was it not?