King Tayuan suddenly fell ill.
After two days of growing weakness, he collapsed on the third and fell into a coma. The illness struck too quickly, and many matters were put on hold. The second prince’s faction immediately proposed lifting his house arrest so he could take charge of state affairs—but the A’Ridi clan was the first to object.
“Just days ago, the King ordered the second prince to reflect in isolation, and now that he’s ill, you want to bring him out? Do you not take the King’s word seriously at all?” A’Ridi rebuked them angrily.
The opposing side quickly countered: “That’s not fair. When His Majesty punished the second prince, he couldn’t have predicted he’d fall so gravely ill. If he had known, he surely would’ve released him sooner to take over the situation.”
“You’re not worms in His Majesty’s belly. How do you know what he was thinking?” A’Ridi sneered coldly. “Now that the King has only just fallen seriously ill, you’re already rushing to defy his orders. What are your true intentions?”
“And what are yours? Of all times for the King to fall ill, it had to be right after punishing the second prince. Some people probably planned this—to give those of impure bloodline a chance to seize control of Tayuan!”
“You—!”
Just as both sides were about to erupt into chaos, Feizhan gave a faint smile and stepped forward to speak.
“Let’s not argue. These are troubled times—we need unity and cooperation more than ever. It’s true that Father personally ordered Second Brother to reflect in seclusion. Now that His Majesty lies unconscious, we shouldn’t go against his will. For now, let me temporarily take charge of court affairs.”
When he said that, Feishi’s faction immediately wanted to refute him again. Feizhan looked up at the crowd, his expression cooling slightly: “As for the remarks just now, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear them. After all, the physician has already examined Father and confirmed that his coma was caused by his long-standing chronic condition—it had nothing to do with anyone else. If people keep speaking nonsense, some with ulterior motives might start thinking that Father fell ill right after Second Brother was confined… and perhaps it was because Second Brother was dissatisfied and resorted to disgraceful methods.”
With just a few words, he shifted suspicion from himself to Feishi. The A’Ridi faction immediately felt vindicated, while Feishi’s supporters were left stifled—some couldn’t hold back and were about to protest but were forcibly restrained.
“It’s fine for the Third Prince to take charge, but only if you’re capable. If not, the Second Prince must still step in to manage the court.” King Tayuan had indeed ordered Feishi to reflect in seclusion before falling ill, so they could only take a step back for now.
Feizhan had expected this outcome and agreed immediately.
The meeting dragged on until late into the night before he finally returned to Rinuan Pavilion.
As soon as he stepped into the courtyard, he saw light glowing from the sleeping quarters. The tension that had gripped Feizhan’s back all day finally eased a little. He stood in the courtyard for a long while before slowly heading inside.
Inside the room, a scorched black lantern frame sat on the table by the window. Feng Lezhen sat beside it, head lowered in concentration as she embroidered. When she heard him return, she didn’t look up.
Feizhan walked over unhurriedly and stood by her side. After quietly watching her for a long moment, he couldn’t help but mock, “Your Highness’s embroidery skills are rather… clumsy.”
Feng Lezhen held the half-finished lotus flower up to the light and studied it for a while before admitting, “It is a bit lacking.”
Crooked and stiff.
“No wonder I’ve never seen you do delicate work like this before. Turns out it’s a matter of talent,” Feizhan took the piece and noticed there was a pattern sketched underneath. He chuckled. “This outline underneath is quite well done. If we remove the embroidery, the pattern alone might fetch some coin.”
Feng Lezhen snatched it back. “How did the talks go today?”
“They agreed to let me temporarily manage state affairs. But if I fail, I’ll have to release Feishi,” Feizhan replied.
Feng Lezhen nodded. “They’re convinced that all those years in Great Qian taught you nothing. Even if you’ve got some cleverness, they think you’re not fit to bear the weight of a nation.”
“Too bad they’re wrong. Now that I’ve seized power, I won’t give it up so easily.” Feizhan’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes cold.
Feng Lezhen gave him a sidelong glance. “Don’t get smug. Just wait—they’ll definitely try to cause you trouble.”
“No matter. Once dirty water is thrown, no one knows who it’ll land on,” Feizhan said, clearly unbothered. If he dared to “take on the burden in a time of crisis,” he wasn’t afraid of behind-the-scenes schemes.
Feng Lezhen let out a soft laugh. “But don’t push too far either. Today’s enemy may be tomorrow’s ally.”
“I know,” Feizhan said, then glanced again at her embroidery. This time, he noticed the pricks on her fingers. His smiling expression darkened. “If you can’t embroider, then don’t. If you want a pattern, let the embroiderers do it.”
“This princess is just passing time.” Feng Lezhen continued working as she spoke, only to prick herself again in the next moment.
Feizhan frowned and took the piece away. “There are so many ways to pass time. Why this?”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I’ve just been stuck in the Tayuan palace for too long, dealing with too many people. I keep thinking about when I was little.” Her gaze fell on the embroidery in his hands. “Back then, all the companions around me were skilled with a needle. I refused to be outdone, so I secretly practiced for a few days. Then the late emperor saw the pricks on my hand and got furious. He scolded everyone who had taught me, and told me that his daughter didn’t need to learn such temperament-sapping things—she was still the most noble young lady in all of Great Qian. From that day on, I never touched embroidery again.”
Feizhan leaned against the table, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he recalled the composed and weathered face of the former Great Qian emperor. “Your father was quite the character. He came up with the idea of using his daughter to toughen up his son. But in the end, the daughter only grew more formidable, while the son remained hopeless. I wonder if, in his final days, he regretted his decision. If he had a second chance, would he let you learn embroidery and grow up like the ‘model’ Great Qian woman?”
“What is the ‘model’ Great Qian woman?” Feng Lezhen glanced at him. “Great Qian has forty-six cities and countless women—how could there be just one model?”
“You know what I mean,” Feizhan said with a helpless gesture.
Feng Lezhen smiled slightly and lifted her eyes to him. “In the royal family, blood ties are shallow by nature. Rather than dwell on them, better to grasp whatever you can. Don’t you think?”
Feizhan stared at her for a while, then smiled. “So that’s why you brought this up. You’re trying to remind me. Don’t worry—I’ve kept people watching over Mother. She hasn’t done anything since the poisoning. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but at least on the surface, she’s standing with us. She shouldn’t betray us.”
“I know she won’t betray us,” Feng Lezhen said calmly, “but she still needs to be watched.”
Feizhan nodded. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly realized something felt off. “…How do you know she won’t betray us?”
Feng Lezhen smiled but didn’t answer.
Feizhan narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a long time. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing much. I just told her how, a few years ago when her cough wouldn’t go away, it was you who tried everything you could to find someone to treat her.”
Feizhan was startled. Just as his heart began to settle—
She added lightly, “And I also mentioned that her maternal clan has been doing quite well these years—seventy-two close relatives, eleven of them children under ten. But if she chooses not to cooperate, well… there might not be a single child left.”
Feizhan: “……”
“It was just to scare her. This princess hardly has the time to go slaughter a bunch of little brats,” Feng Lezhen said soothingly.
Feizhan was exasperated: “Should I be thanking you for that?”
Feng Lezhen shrugged.
The night had grown deep. She continued embroidering her crooked lotus flowers, while Feizhan, overwhelmed with sleepiness, simply went to bed first. Ever since he had properly “served” Her Highness the Princess, he had been granted the privilege of sleeping in the bed. Now, the moment his body sank into bedding soaked with her faint powdery scent, his consciousness instantly unraveled.
“I’ll probably be very busy in the coming days. I’ll have to trouble Your Highness to keep an eye on Mother’s side,” he murmured, half-asleep.
Feng Lezhen didn’t look back. “Don’t worry, this princess is here.”
Feizhan smiled wordlessly, turned over, and fell asleep.
Just as he had predicted, the next five or six days were extremely hectic. Feishi’s faction tried tripping him up several times, but Feizhan easily countered each move—and even gained public praise from the common folk. Though Feishi was confined to his residence and not allowed out, news was still relayed to him. Every time he heard what Feizhan had accomplished, he would rage like a caged beast, throwing fits and smashing things in fury.
What unsettled him most, however, was this: King Tayuan had awoken.
Although he had regained consciousness, the king remained groggy and refused to see any consorts other than the Third Consort. The ministers believed he was being held hostage and barged into the Third Consort’s quarters—only to be scolded fiercely by the king himself, whose mind, though foggy, remained lucid enough to drive them off. After that, no one dared to approach again.
The king’s firm stance sparked a new rumor in the palace—
That he was thoroughly disappointed in the Second Prince and was now considering naming the Third Prince as heir.
Once, Feizhan’s impure bloodline had been an insurmountable thornbush, blocking his way when he had no power or backers. But now that he had support behind him, that same stain was reduced to nothing more than a puddle in his path—not enough to stop his stride. Feizhan had always known this; Feishi was only now beginning to understand.
He’d thought that with Feishai dead, he was the only candidate left to be heir. But Feizhan’s sudden emergence had become his greatest obstacle. The truth hit him like a slap in the face—bringing not just anger and frustration, but humiliation.
He could have accepted losing to Feishai, that useless fool. But losing to Feizhan, that b*stard? Unacceptable.
Driven to the edge, Feishi finally decided, after days of struggle, to take a desperate gamble.
When word spread of a fire in Ruyue Pavilion, the entire royal palace stirred—torches flaring, the air tense with a sense of foreboding.
Feng Lezhen finished the last stitch of her crooked lotus, then looked up at the glow of flames outside the window. A faint smile lifted the corners of her lips.
It was finally time to return to Yingguan, to walk her own road again.
