It was already summer. Although Tayuan was a land in the far north, by midday it was still warm. The sun shone down, cozy and comfortable, naturally stirring a bit of laziness.
Feizhan thought the sun must’ve baked his brain soft. Otherwise, why would he, after a long silence, look into Feng Lezhen’s eyes and ask, “What do you mean by that?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he realized how stupid the question was. Sure enough, Feng Lezhen gave a light laugh and teasingly replied, “You really don’t know what I mean?”
The Eldest Consort and the Second Consort had been at odds for years; their clans had long been irreconcilable. If Feishi ascended the throne, then the Eldest Consort’s clan would face nothing but purging. If they wanted to change their fate, they’d need to seek another way out.
And conveniently, Feizhan was that way out. Compared to their own future, the person who sat on that throne—or even the purity of his bloodline—was hardly the biggest issue. Besides, in recent times, Feizhan had used Feishi’s name to do a number of good deeds among the people, and had gathered popular support.
With public support and noble backing, he could completely turn the tide.
Feizhan stared at her calm eyes, then let out a cold laugh: “The A’Ridi clan urgently needs a new heir to support. This candidate must be the king’s son, and have no backing of his own—someone who can only depend on them. In all of Tayuan, I’m the only one who fits that bill. Frankly, I think they should be coming to me—not the other way around.”
“Precisely because they need you more, you should be the one to take the initiative,” Feng Lezhen smiled faintly. “That shows sincerity.”
Feizhan’s smile faded further. “Does it have to be in the form of a marriage proposal?”
“What bond is more dependable than kinship by marriage?” Feng Lezhen looked him in the eye. “If you promise that the future heir will be born from a woman of the A’Ridi clan, they’ll work even harder for you.”
Feizhan stared at her in silence for a long time before suddenly letting out a low laugh. “Women of the A’Ridi clan don’t become concubines.”
“If it were just to take a concubine, there’d be no need to propose in person,” Feng Lezhen cast him a sideways glance. “You know what to do.”
Feizhan fell into even deeper silence.
No one knew how long had passed before he finally stood up and walked out. At the doorway, he turned back to look—and saw Feng Lezhen reclining comfortably on the rocking chair, basking in the sun, as if the intense conversation moments ago had never happened.
His gaze darkened, and he turned and left without a word.
By the time Feizhan reached the A’Ridi clan’s estate, the Eldest Consort was in the midst of a raging quarrel with the Tayuan King. The king, unable to bear it anymore, finally lost his temper and ordered her to be confined for reflection. By the time her confinement ended and she regained her freedom, word had already spread within the clan about their cooperation with Feizhan.
Upon hearing the servant’s report, the Eldest Consort felt as if thunder had exploded in her mind. But gradually, clarity returned—
She had clearly given poison to the Third Prince Consort. So why was Feizhan still alive and well? Why had he aligned with her clan right after her son’s death? And why… in this whole matter where only her faction and the Second Consort’s were in conflict, had he disappeared entirely from the stage? Feishi kept insisting he had been lured to Qingshui Pavilion. If he was telling the truth, then who lured him there?
Her son was dead—who stood to gain the most?
The more she thought, the harder it became to breathe. Amid the servant’s shocked cries, she collapsed to the ground. A teacup knocked over by her sleeve fell and shattered, slicing her hand open and leaving blood dripping to the floor.
“How could this happen…” the Eldest Consort murmured numbly. “I underestimated her… I underestimated him…”
“Your Grace, are you all right?” the servant asked in alarm.
“Prepare the carriage!” Pain throbbed through her hand as she shoved the servant away and staggered toward the door.
She sped off in haste. When she arrived at her maiden home, the A’Ridi clan’s chief—her own father—just so happened to be sending Feizhan off at the gate. Both men were startled to see her rush in. Her father spoke first, “Why are you back?”
The Eldest Consort, red-eyed from grief, ignored everything and lunged at Feizhan, grabbing his collar. “Was it you? Was it you?!”
“Watch yourself!” her father snapped, angered. “What are you doing?”
“Answer me!” the Eldest Consort demanded harshly.
Feizhan looked completely innocent. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“The Eldest Consort has gone mad! Restrain her!” her father shouted, and the servants who had been watching from the sidelines rushed in to pull her away.
The Eldest Consort clutched Feizhan’s collar with all her might, screaming hysterically as she struggled. In the chaos, she scratched his face, leaving several red marks. Feizhan didn’t seem to mind—he even smiled at her, which only drove her into further fury and insult.
Her father’s face turned ashen. Only after the servants forcibly dragged her away did he frown and say to Feizhan, “Third Prince, I apologize. You’ve been made a spectacle.”
“The grief of losing a child is immense. Her Grace’s loss of control is understandable.”
After a few polite words, Feizhan left. Once he was out of sight, the Eldest Consort’s father’s expression turned cold. He returned to the house, furious.
By then, the Eldest Consort had calmed down. When she looked at her father, her eyes were icy. “Do you not understand? He could be the one who killed Feishai.”
“The king never intended him to be heir. If he were the killer, why wouldn’t the king have arrested him immediately?” her father replied coldly. “You’ve just come out of confinement—can’t you show some restraint and stop making trouble? Are you trying to drag the entire clan down with you?”
The Eldest Consort laughed bitterly. “The clan. Always the clan. Ever since Feishai died, it’s been days. Not once have you come to see me in the palace. The only times you sent servants, it was to remind me not to argue with the king again, for fear of damaging the affection of a marriage spanning decades. Father! I lost my son!”
That last sentence, she nearly sobbed blood: “Father! Your daughter has lost her only son, and even now—all you care about is your clan?!”
Her father seemed moved for a moment. After a brief silence, he sighed. “I know you’re grieving. Feishai is gone, and I feel it too. But the dead are gone. The living still have to go on, don’t they? You’ve been stirring up trouble these days, putting the family in a passive position. I’ve had to clean up your mess. Where would I find the time to visit you?”
For many years now, whenever the Eldest Consort started to resent him, he would always console her this way—and every time, she believed him. But today, she could no longer believe it.
She was a mother. She had tasted the pain of losing her son. There were countless times she’d wanted to follow Feishai in death. But her father—the man she had always respected most—never once truly saw her suffering. He only ever brushed her off with lofty, hollow reasoning.
“I wonder,” she said slowly, “if Rige were to die, would you still be this calm?”
Rige was her only younger brother—her father’s late-born son, the heir, the great hope of their clan. At her mention of his name at such a moment, her father instantly flew into a rage. “You’re mad! Absolutely mad! If you so much as lay a finger on him, I’ll kill you!”
“So Father can feel something, after all,” the Eldest Consort let out a short laugh.
“I thought you were always so calm and composed.”
Her father took a deep breath. “If there’s nothing else, you’d better return to the palace. Don’t leave your residence for the time being—and don’t go looking for the king again!”
The Eldest Consort let out a cold laugh, then slowly rose to her feet and walked out like a wandering soul.
Her father saw the dried blood on her hands and turned away in discomfort—but he said nothing.
At the doorway, she looked back once more. “Father.”
“What is it now?” he asked, frowning.
She met his eyes. “If I can prove Feizhan is the murderer, will you still work with him?”
His face darkened. “Feizhan has already proposed marriage. He intends to marry Mule as his official wife. When he ascends the throne, she’ll become the Eldest Consort, and her son will be the heir.”
“…So that’s how it is,” the Eldest Consort murmured.
Her father’s tone softened slightly. “If he really is the killer, then of course I’ll avenge Feishai. Once the A’Ridi clan produces another prince, Feizhan can pay with his life. When that time comes, you can become Empress Dowager and personally raise the new prince.”
“Who wants to raise a b*stard’s child?” the Eldest Consort sneered. “You wouldn’t even speak to him before. And now you’re willing to send your own granddaughter to bear his child. Clearly, bloodline means nothing to you. All that matters is power.”
She paused for a moment, then turned and walked out, face expressionless. “Father… you disgust me.”
Her father furrowed his brows—but he didn’t stop her.
Rinuan Pavilion, under the eaves.
The sun was setting in the west, but the courtyard was still bright. Feng Lezhen scooped a little ointment with her pinky and carefully applied it to Feizhan’s wounds.
“Grief from losing a child really is something else. Even someone as composed and dignified as the Eldest Consort ended up clawing at your face,” she said slowly.
Feizhan curved his lips. “She must have sensed something. Just has no proof.”
“Her father was present when she confronted you, wasn’t he? What was his attitude? Did he show any signs of resentment?” Feng Lezhen asked again.
Feizhan smiled. “The dead can’t come back. What does the truth matter anymore? That old man probably wishes you’d drop dead right now, just to clear the way for his precious granddaughter. Nothing else matters.”
“So when exactly do you plan to let me die?” Feng Lezhen asked.
The courtyard suddenly went quiet.
After a moment, Feizhan looked at her indifferently. “Does Your Highness want to leave?”
“The situation shifts too quickly. I’ve lingered long enough,” Feng Lezhen answered, looking him straight in the eyes.
Feizhan smiled faintly. “But it hasn’t even been two months yet.”
“I want to leave as soon as possible. The sooner the better.” Her tone left no room for argument.
Silence stretched between them.
After a while, Feizhan finally spoke. “Wait a bit longer. Just a little longer.”
Feng Lezhen gave no reply, simply focused on finishing the ointment application.
Feizhan silently watched her eyes up close. When she finished and started to withdraw her hand, he suddenly grabbed her wrist.
“Your Highness seems quite practiced at applying ointment,” he said with a half-smile.
Feng Lezhen glanced at him, then answered matter-of-factly, “Practice makes perfect.”
“Oh? Who did you practice on?” he asked again.
Feng Lezhen pulled her hand back and began putting the ointment away. “Someone you wouldn’t know.”
As she spoke, she stood and stretched leisurely in the courtyard.
She wore red today. The short sleeves stopped just two inches below her elbows, revealing slender, fair wrists. The setting sun bathed her black hair in golden light—gentle and warm. She looked as though she had descended from the heavens, ready to melt into the twilight.
Feng Lezhen stretched lazily, then was just about to call for Feishai to bring her some food— But before she could even turn around, she was hoisted into the air.
“What are you doing?” she said, annoyed.
“Doing something Your Highness likes,” Feizhan replied shamelessly. He kicked the door shut behind them.
A night of madness followed. By the time they finished, darkness had fully fallen.
Feng Lezhen changed clothes and sat before the mirror fixing her makeup. When she saw the bite mark on her neck, her face darkened. She looked in the mirror at the culprit behind her. “Next time you bite without permission, I’ll knock your teeth out.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” Feizhan said dramatically, then grinned. “And here I thought someone already flattened my ring with their teeth—now they’re playing the victim.”
“It’s an honor to be bitten by me,” Feng Lezhen said haughtily.
“Yes, yes, my great honor,” Feizhan said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, gazing at their reflections in the mirror, their faces pressed close together. “Since Your Highness likes it so much, why not just take it off? Or… how about I get one for you too?”
Feng Lezhen’s eyelid twitched. She refused immediately. “That would look ridiculous.”
Feizhan laughed silently, his hand around her waist tightening. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Just as Feng Lezhen was about to speak, hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside. Feizhan straightened and turned toward the door. Before he could reach it, there was a panicked knock.
He opened the door and asked, “What is it?”
“The Eldest Consort… she took poison. She’s… dead,” the person stammered.
Feng Lezhen paused, surprised, and looked toward the door.
Feizhan remained calm. He simply said, “Got it,” and closed the door again.
When he turned around and saw Feng Lezhen staring at him, he sighed. “More trouble to deal with.”
“Did you do it?” Feng Lezhen asked, almost at the same time as him.
Feizhan feigned innocence. “What makes you think that?”
“She was no longer useful. Keeping her around would only cause problems. With your personality, you’re not one to leave threats hanging around.” Feng Lezhen raised her gaze to meet his. “And today, after seeing her birth father, she must’ve sunk deeper into despair. Her suicide isn’t exactly out of reason.”
Whether someone truly wants to die isn’t the point. As long as others believe she wanted to die—that’s enough.
Feizhan smiled without denying it. He walked back and hugged her again from behind. “Now that the Eldest Consort is dead, Feishi and the others are even more cornered. Even if Father only wants to appease the A’Ridi clan, he’ll have to distance himself from them for a while. That Second Consort and Feishi—they’re not the patient type. What do you think they’ll do?”
“When pressed, chaos follows,” Feng Lezhen said, staring into the mirror at the two of them—so close, so seamless, as if made to be a pair. “After today, the A’Ridi clan will only be more convinced they made the right choice.”
Feizhan also looked at her reflection. “But they’ll also become more wary of me. They’re probably hoping I’ll hurry up and father a son with their precious granddaughter—so they can turn around and pass the title to a newborn instead.”
“Will you let them get their way?” Feng Lezhen asked.
Feizhan actually gave it some thought. “Not sure. That granddaughter is the most beautiful girl in Tayuan. I’m someone who’s easily moved. If she says a few soft words, maybe I would let her bear my child.”
Feng Lezhen remained calm. “Pregnancy and childbirth take ten months. That buys me ten months of peace. For me, that’s enough.”
The implication was clear—he could sire as many children as he liked, as long as it didn’t interfere with her grand plan.
Feizhan laughed. “Your Highness, that’s a bit too heartless, don’t you think? How about this—why don’t you give me a child? I swear on my life, that child will be the heir of Tayuan.”
Feng Lezhen’s eyes flickered. She turned to look at him.
“Why not consider it, Your Highness?” Feizhan half-knelt before her, placing a hand gently on her flat abdomen. “Our child would have half the royal blood of Great Qian. If he became king, Great Qian would gain Tayuan without lifting a finger.”
Feng Lezhen was silent for a long time. Finally, when he looked at her again, she replied slowly: “One child, in exchange for a kingdom. Sounds like a good deal. Too bad…”
She raised his chin. “I’m not stupid enough to fall for it.”
Her fingernails had grown a little long—they pressed slightly into his skin, sharp enough to sting.
Feizhan didn’t dodge. He simply looked at her, amused. “But I was being sincere.”
“You’re also half Great Qian blood,” Feng Lezhen said coldly. “Raised in the Great Qian imperial palace from youth. You spent most of your life there. So tell me, do you consider yourself a Great Qian man or a Tayuan man?”
Feizhan’s smile didn’t fade. “Does it matter where someone’s from? What matters is that Your Highness’s child can become Tayuan’s king.”
“A child not raised by me, not taught by me—can that be called my child?” Feng Lezhen sneered. “Stranger, nothing more.”
Feizhan clicked his tongue and casually stroked her belly. “Whether it’s a stranger or not… I’m afraid that’s not for you to say. We haven’t taken any contraceptive decoctions these past few days. There might already be a little one growing in there.”
“There isn’t,” Feng Lezhen replied bluntly.
Feizhan raised an eyebrow. “The royal family of Great Qian may be sparse in heirs, but it’s not completely barren. How can you be so sure?”
“There isn’t.” She repeated, her tone flat.
Feizhan’s smile froze. And then, he understood what she meant—
There isn’t. Even if there was, there wouldn’t be.
The air in the room seemed to stall for a beat. Then Feizhan laughed once. “If men could bear children, I’d definitely have one—just to tie you down.”
Feng Lezhen curled her lip.
He’s hopeless.
—
As expected, the Eldest Consort’s death was like a leaf falling into water—it caused ripples, breaking the royal family’s fragile illusion of peace. So whether it was the Tayuan King or the A’Ridi clan, they all tried to handle it quietly, afraid it would become a stain on their name.
With her death, the palace that belonged to the Eldest Consort was officially emptied. Though no one said it aloud, the court quietly whispered about the Second Consort and Feishi. After all, the Eldest Consort had repeatedly claimed before her death that the Second Prince killed the Eldest Prince—and it was the Second Prince who first discovered the body. The more people thought about it, the more suspicious it all seemed.
No one knew when the rumors first began to leak from the palace, but soon the entire capital of Tayuan was in an uproar. The king had intended to take action, but it was already too late. He could only let the rumors ferment—and let the Second Consort and her son cool their heels in the shadows, quietly waiting for the storm to pass.
“When it came to choosing a heir, Father always favored Feishi. He just never showed it because of the A’Ridi clan’s influence. But now that Feishai is dead, there’s no way he won’t try to protect Feishi. So it’s not surprising he’s doing nothing,” Feizhan said leisurely, analyzing the situation.
Feng Lezhen cast him a glance. “The reason he’s doing nothing is because the core of his interests hasn’t been touched yet. If it ever is—then even his most favored son won’t be spared.”
Feizhan rested his chin on one hand. “Does Your Highness have some brilliant insight?”
Feng Lezhen looked up. “The Tayuan King, these past few days—seems to have been staying at your mother’s place.”
Feizhan paused, then laughed as he caught on to her meaning. “You know what kind of person my mother is. Instead of counting on her helping us, we might as well wait for Feishi to mess up on his own.”
“Is that so?” Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow. “But I think your mother might still be of use.”
In the palace building a quarter of an hour’s walk away, Luo Ying suddenly shivered.
