All things in the world change—so do allegiances. Just a short while ago, they had seen Ah Ye and her people as mortal enemies because of a mission. But now, after days of fleeing for their lives, seeing her was almost like seeing a family member.
“…What are you doing here?” Though he had a suspicion, Brother Yu still dared not let his guard down.
Ah Ye raised her eyes to look at him and confirmed his guess with a smile. “I’m here to rescue you.”
The group let out a collective sigh of relief. Only Wenge remained wary. “How did you know we were here?”
Everyone immediately looked at her.
Ah Ye’s expression didn’t change. “Because I’ve been following you the whole time—from Yue City to the capital, and from the capital to here. I’ve been there every step of the way.”
She said it lightly, but in truth, she was fuming inside. These people were insane—racing night and day even while escaping was understandable, but they had also done the same on the way to the capital. She had to stick close without being spotted. It had been h*ll.
“Why were you following us?” Wenge stared at her, already having guessed the answer, but unwilling to accept it.
Ah Ye looked at him again, her eyes full of compassion. “Come back to Yingguan with me. Once we’re there, if you want answers, you can ask Her Highness directly.”
“Her Highness? You’ve found the eldest princess?” someone couldn’t help blurting out, but Brother Yu sensed the tension and tugged on his sleeve.
Ah Ye just smiled and said nothing, her eyes quietly fixed on Wenge.
The mood grew increasingly uneasy. Everyone felt inexplicably on edge, until Brother Yu finally stepped forward. “Leader, let’s go.”
Wenge’s eyes flickered. Without saying a word, he mounted his horse.
Ah Ye let out a small sigh of relief, glad that he was cooperating.
Once they set out again, the size of their party had nearly tripled. Only then did the others realize how many people Ah Ye had brought. They were secretly shocked—
They had always considered themselves highly skilled, yet hadn’t noticed such a large group tailing them. It only showed how powerful the eldest princess really was—far more so than they had imagined.
Far more than even the emperor had imagined. After all, if he hadn’t been so confident, he wouldn’t have dared send them to Yingguan in the first place.
Ah Ye bought several carriages in a nearby town. The group took turns resting as they traveled day and night, finally reaching Yingguan in the shortest time possible.
By the time they arrived, it was already late. The soldiers on the city wall opened the gates immediately upon seeing Ah Ye, and she led them straight through the streets, past both bustling markets and silent alleys, until they reached the gates of the Eldest Princess’s residence.
The last time they had come here was for an assassination. Who would’ve thought that this time, they’d return as guests? The group felt uneasy as they stepped through the gates once more.
Half an hour before they entered the city, Feng Lezhen had already heard of their arrival. She’d been waiting in the main hall, and now that they finally appeared, a smile gently curved her lips.
“Your Highness!” As soon as Ah Ye entered, she called out, aggrieved.
Feng Lezhen couldn’t help laughing. “You’ve had a hard time.”
“It was only my duty.” With outsiders present, Ah Ye didn’t dare whine and simply stepped aside after speaking.
Feng Lezhen looked up at the young men who had just escaped from Feng Ji’s inescapable net.
“Aren’t you going to greet Her Highness?” Ah Ye suddenly frowned.
During that month at the inn, they had always interacted with Feng Lezhen as equals, so it hadn’t occurred to them to formally greet her. Only now, upon Ah Ye’s reminder, did they recall that she was a figure far above their station. They quickly cupped their hands and knelt.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
“G-Greetings, Your Highness.”
All of them knelt—except for Wenge, who remained standing expressionless.
Feng Lezhen held a smile at the corner of her lips and acted as if she hadn’t seen him. Only after they finished their salute did she slowly speak: “We’re all friends here—no need for formalities.”
If they were truly friends, she would’ve said that before they knelt. The group looked awkward; whatever discomfort they had about “kneeling to a friend” completely dissipated. When they looked at her again, their eyes saw only the lofty Princess Hengkang—not the little bell girl who used to stay by the vegetable plot.
“This journey must’ve left you with many questions. Ask whatever you want.” Feng Lezhen turned and sat at the head seat, fully assuming her host’s posture.
The group exchanged glances, and in the end, it was still Brother Yu who stepped forward to ask: “Your Highness, why did you have people follow us?”
“Because I knew from the start that this trip would be perilous,” Feng Lezhen answered.
Brother Yu frowned. “Why were you so certain?”
Feng Lezhen smiled. “You’ve only been with Feng Ji for how long? I’m just half a year older than him—we grew up together. Compared to you, I know him far better. With a nature like his, he may dare order the assassination of his own blood, but he would never bear the consequences for it. Whether you succeeded or not, he was never going to let you live.”
Her words were nearly identical to what Li Tong had said. The group looked at each other, then all turned to Wenge. Wenge said nothing, only stared fixedly at Feng Lezhen. She kept her smile and never spared him a single glance.
Sensing the tension between the two, Brother Yu gave a light cough and asked bluntly, “So, Your Highness is willing to save us?”
“Of course,” Feng Lezhen replied.
Brother Yu: “What do we have to give in return?”
There was no such thing as a free lunch. She’d gone to such lengths to rescue them—there’s no way she expected nothing in return.
He asked straightforwardly, and Feng Lezhen answered just as directly: “I need you to testify, as men with blood on your hands, that Feng Ji attempted to assassinate a court official.”
The moment the words fell, everyone looked up in shock, then fell into uneasy silence.
“Why are you all so surprised?” Feng Lezhen looked puzzled. “He tried to kill you, and yet you still want to keep his secrets for him?”
Brother Yu’s expression turned grim. “Your Highness may not know, but back then, if it weren’t for the late emperor’s protection, none of us would’ve survived. He was our savior—his grace outweighs the heavens. Even if the current emperor betrayed us, we can’t repay kindness with betrayal. What’s more, before his death, the late emperor summoned us to his bedside and personally asked us to guard the new emperor and the realm. If we come forward now, we might shake the foundation of the empire…”
“Did the late emperor, in personally asking you to protect the realm, also ask you to assassinate his only daughter?” Ah Ye suddenly interrupted, irritated. “If the late emperor knew, he’d be so angry he’d die all over again. Funny how you remember him now.”
The group froze, unable to say a word.
Feng Lezhen let out a silent laugh and sipped her tea slowly. “The late emperor protected you for seven years. You’ve worked for Feng Ji for nine. That’s more than enough to repay any debt. Right now, you should be thinking about yourselves.”
Brother Yu blurted out, “How do you know…”—that the late emperor sheltered them for seven years?
The others were stunned too. Only Wenge’s gaze darkened as he remembered the time when he had told her everything without reservation.
“What our princess wants to know, she will know,” Ah Ye spoke again. “The capital and Yingguan are working together inside and out. All the evidence we need has already been secured. If you cooperate, it’s a bonus. If not, it won’t stop us. This is Her Highness giving you a merciful chance. Think it over carefully.”
“Ah Ye,” Feng Lezhen said calmly, glancing at her, “They’re all my friends. Mind your manners.”
“Yes.” Ah Ye bowed her head and withdrew.
Feng Lezhen then looked gently at the group. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. It’s entirely your choice. You may take your time to consider. If you truly don’t want to help, I’ll still prepare silver and supplies for you. You’ll be free to go.”
The unspoken message: if you won’t help, you’ll be expelled from Yingguan. The world is vast, but all under heaven belongs to the emperor. Once they left Yingguan, how much chance of survival would they have? Everyone felt the weight settle over them and turned to Wenge, hoping their leader would point them to a way forward.
Under their gazes, Wenge could no longer stand apart. After a long silence, he asked Feng Lezhen, “You never lost your memory, did you?”
“Leader…” Brother Yu tried to speak, clearly feeling this was an inappropriate question. The others also gave him subtle looks, trying to stop him.
But Feng Lezhen’s expression didn’t change. She raised her hand, motioning for the others to leave.
They exchanged glances. Seeing Wenge still staring at Feng Lezhen, they could only retreat.
In the blink of an eye, only the two of them remained in the room.
“Did you really lose your memory?” Wenge asked again, word for word, determined to know the truth.
Feng Lezhen looked at him for a long while and finally said, “I did. But that same night, I began to remember things.”
Her head had been too foggy at first to recall anything, but she’d dreamed a lot that night, and by the time she woke again, her mind was clear.
“…So it only took a few hours,” Wenge murmured, his eyes gradually reddening. “But afterward, you kept saying your head hurt, and you had that doctor examine you—he said you’d never recover…”
“It was a lie. Ah Ye had instructed him ahead of time, before you even found him,” Feng Lezhen cut him off.
Wenge: “Then later, when I was caught while trying to rescue you, and you broke me out—you said you wanted to leave with me…”
“That too was to make you drop your guard,” Feng Lezhen answered.
Wenge laughed bitterly. “You’re certainly being thorough now.”
“I never wanted to deceive you in the first place. But now that I can speak the truth, I won’t hide anything.”
Her gaze toward him was gentle, even tender. But Wenge found it hard to breathe. “Unwilling to deceive me? You looked like you were enjoying yourself just fine. Was it fun playing me? Watching me fall for you so hard I was ready to give you my life—did that make you feel triumphant?”
“This pr—”
“Don’t call yourself ‘this princess’ in front of me!” Wenge suddenly erupted, breathing heavily like a wounded beast, eyes locked onto her. “I don’t know any ‘princess’! Feng Lezhen, during that half month I was imprisoned after the prison break, what were you doing? What were you thinking? Were you waiting—thinking the longer I stayed locked up, the weaker I’d get? The weaker I became, the easier it would be to break through my guard?”
Feng Lezhen said nothing, simply gazing at him quietly.
“So that’s what it was.” Wenge let out a laugh—half bitter, half mad. His voice trembled. “The esteemed princess truly is a master of taming hearts. Knows when to loosen the reins, when to pull tight. I lost to you, completely and willingly.”
“Do you know what I was thinking at that time? I was worried. I regretted it. I felt I shouldn’t have left you behind. You were so clueless, couldn’t even cook. You’d just gnaw on raw radishes to fill your stomach. I was locked up—I couldn’t go back and cook for you. I was terrified you’d starve to death in that little courtyard…”
As he spoke, he covered his eyes in pain, and dampness clung to his fingertips.
“I was so stupid. I actually fell for it. I actually…” He took a deep breath. When he lowered his hands again, his eyes were redder than before, but his tone had settled into a strange calm. “Let me ask you: during all the days and nights we spent together, was there even a single moment you wanted to tell me the truth? If you could do it over, would you choose a different way?”
Feng Lezhen said, “I… I needed a legitimate reason to return to the capital. You were the only opening.”
The implication: there’s nothing more to say.
Wenge’s fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, though his face remained calm. “So these past days… Her Highness really did lower herself. For the sake of this so-called opening, even her body could be offered.”
“I’ve never wronged myself,” Feng Lezhen looked into his eyes. “You’ve been with me long enough—you should know that. There’s no need to say things that hurt both you and me.”
Wenge stared at her in silence for a long moment before slowly speaking again: “Although your people say they don’t need our testimony, since you went to such trouble to bring us here to Yingguan, you still hope we’ll testify, don’t you?”
“Physical evidence is dead. You, as those involved, know every detail. If you step forward, it would be ideal,” Feng Lezhen replied.
Wenge sneered, “What if I don’t cooperate?”
Feng Lezhen paused. “Little Bell… don’t be so willful.”
“Don’t call me that!” Wenge’s calm shattered instantly—her words hit their mark too easily.
His breathing grew more erratic, and the hatred in his eyes was deep and fierce, tipping him toward madness.
Seeing tears in his eyes again, Feng Lezhen’s expression softened slightly, and she reached out, trying to wipe them. But as soon as her fingers neared his face, he jerked back violently.
Her hand paused awkwardly in midair, then she calmly withdrew it. “Once I release the evidence, Feng Ji will stop holding back and openly send people to hunt you down. If the emperor wants you dead, I’m the only one who can protect you. I know you resent me—it’s understandable you’d act on impulse. But if you won’t think of yourself, shouldn’t you at least think of your brothers?”
Every look she gave him was full of affection, yet every word she spoke cut straight to the bone. It was as if she were telling him plainly: even if she did have some feelings for him, she would never compromise because of them. If he didn’t follow her plan, he was still doomed.
So this was her so-called affection—so shallow it felt as though he was no different from a stranger in her eyes.
Wenge stared at this proud, beautiful woman before him. He hated her so much he wanted to tear a chunk of flesh from her, but beneath the thick, dark hatred, there was something else. Something that stopped him—kept him from taking a single step closer, even though he could have ended it all then and there.
At last, he shut his eyes in resignation. “I’ll cooperate.”
Feng Lezhen’s gaze softened.
“But once we move, it means we’re confessing. The charge of attempting to assassinate a court official is enough to execute us a hundred times over. You must swear that you won’t use that charge against us later.”
Feng Lezhen said, “Complete pardon isn’t possible. But in the prisons of Yingguan, there are countless death row inmates. When the time comes, they’ll be executed with sacks over their heads. Who would know who was actually killed?”
Wenge: “Once it’s done, we want our freedom.”
Feng Lezhen: “If you want freedom, you’ll have it. If you don’t… you may stay.”
Wenge slowly lifted his eyes and, after meeting hers, let out a sarcastic laugh and turned to leave.
Feng Lezhen watched his retreating back, her mood growing more unsettled, when suddenly Wenge turned around again. She instinctively smiled. “Is there something else?”
“One last question,” Wenge looked straight into her eyes. “If you already knew the emperor would want us dead, why didn’t you warn us from the start? Why let us make the long journey to the capital?”
“There are some things,” Feng Lezhen replied, “that even if I had told you, you wouldn’t have believed. It was better to let you experience it for yourselves.”
Wenge: “But firsthand experience comes with the risk of dying.”
Feng Lezhen said nothing.
Wenge stared at her, his heart going utterly cold.
“I really… what a disgrace I’ve brought upon myself.”
He shook his head and walked out wearily. The figure that had once carried the faint air of youth, after the journey and the betrayal of the person he loved, had shed all its boyishness overnight—now carrying only weariness and maturity.
Feng Lezhen watched his silhouette disappear and suddenly had a sense—
He was leaving her for good.
