Late into the night, when all was still, Chen Jinan sat alone before the window. The room was unlit, engulfed in darkness.
After an unknown stretch of time, a figure flickered past the doorway. “General, the palace has settled down. No matter how hard they searched, they found nothing in the end—just punished a few palace attendants.”
“And the Eldest Princess’s residence?” came Chen Jinan’s quiet voice from the shadows.
“Fu Zhixian seems to have regained consciousness.”
“Understood.”
The figure departed, leaving him alone again. In another hour, morning court would begin. If nothing unexpected happened, after court, Feng Ji would summon him—likely to investigate how Her Highness had entered and exited the palace so freely.
Her Highness…
It wasn’t until she took Fu Zhixian away that he finally understood what kind of trap Fu Zhixian had set for him. And yet, he didn’t regret arresting him. He didn’t regret trying to kill him. His only regret—was not acting faster, not finishing the job before Her Highness arrived.
Once day broke, there would be many loose ends to tie up. He could not let his mind wander anymore. He needed to rest, so he could remain sharp. Chen Jinan exhaled slowly, then lay on the bed, forcing himself to sleep.
The news that the Eldest Princess had broken Fu Zhixian out of prison and clashed with the imperial guards spread like wildfire across the capital overnight. Strangely, the Emperor had little reaction, even blatantly ignoring the incident. The people were abuzz with speculation: some said Fu Zhixian was innocent, and the Emperor had only arrested him to prevent reconciliation with the Eldest Princess; others said the Eldest Princess held no regard for the law, daring to snatch even a criminal from justice; and still others believed the Emperor had turned a blind eye out of sentiment for his sister and her deep affection for Fu Zhixian.
That last theory, however, was quickly dismissed—after all, hadn’t the Emperor once plotted to harm the Eldest Princess? Though people claimed he’d been misled by corrupt officials, what kind of “good little brother” would try to kill his only sister just because someone whispered a few words?
In short, the rumors were endless, and with Feng Lezhen’s return, the capital burst into liveliness.
Yu Shou had long passed sixty and was well beyond the age for such excitement. But rumor after rumor about his granddaughter’s escapades reached his ears—whether he liked it or not, peace was not an option.
After two days of hearing all kinds of gossip, and with no sign of Feng Lezhen coming to pay her respects, Yu Shou finally lost his patience and visited the Eldest Princess’s residence himself.
When he arrived, Feng Lezhen was tending to two newly gifted chrysanthemum pots. Seeing him, she smiled generously and said, “These two pots were a gift from the Minister of Justice. If Grandfather likes them, I’ll have someone send them to you when you leave.”
“Zhao Chen of the Ministry of Justice?” Yu Shou narrowed his eyes. “He’s known as a man of integrity. Even he’s bringing gifts to the Eldest Princess now? You certainly have a way with people.”
Feng Lezhen smiled. “They’re not rare flowers, but they’ve been well cared for, and they’ve bloomed beautifully. What do you think, Grandfather?”
Yu Shou glanced at the vibrant blossoms and said flatly, “I didn’t come here to talk about chrysanthemums.”
“You want to ask about my defiance of the imperial decree?” Feng Lezhen handed her trowel to a gardener and stood to walk with him into the main hall.
Yu Shou snorted. “Don’t try to fool me. You’ve done far more than disobey an order.”
“So Grandfather has heard about my midnight visit to the palace?” Feng Lezhen chuckled. “You’re as well-informed as ever—nothing gets past you.”
“It’s not just me—likely the entire capital’s nobility has heard by now.” Yu Shou frowned deeply. “You’ve always been composed and rational. Why cause such an uproar over Fu Zhixian?”
“Isn’t raging for love the stuff of legends?” Feng Lezhen asked with a teasing smile.
“Lezhen.” Yu Shou stopped walking and met her gaze, displeased.
Feng Lezhen also halted and sighed. “I didn’t act out of impulse.”
Yu Shou’s frown deepened.
“From the moment I set foot in the capital, Great Qian was destined to fall into my hands. Unfortunately, our Emperor still hasn’t recognized that reality—he continues to provoke me at every turn. I had no choice but to give him a reminder.” Her lips held a soft smile, but her eyes were icy cold.
Yu Shou did not agree. “Weren’t we going to move slowly, carefully? If you push too hard, aren’t you afraid the rabbit will bite when cornered?”
“If he wants to bite,” Feng Lezhen said, spreading her hands, “he’d better have strong enough teeth.”
Yu Shou didn’t quite understand her meaning, but seeing how confident she was, he let it go. He simply gave her a final reminder: “After what’s happened, he’ll be badly shaken. You… be careful these days. Watch out for any cruel counterattacks.”
“I’d very much welcome that,” Feng Lezhen replied with a faint smile.
Yu Shou froze. When he met her eyes, he finally realized—she had already calculated every move, even Feng Ji’s future retaliation.
She needed Feng Ji to launch another fierce counterattack—only then could she justifiably drive him from his throne.
Last night had never been some impulsive act of romantic fury. Whether it was defying the imperial edict, clashing with the Imperial Guards, or even suddenly entering the palace, all of it had been calculated, every step of the way.
Even with Fu Zhixian’s life hanging by a thread, she still had the clarity of mind to plan all this… At that moment, Yu Shou suddenly realized that after four years, his granddaughter had already become a fully qualified wielder of power.
The two locked eyes in silence for a moment before Yu Shou gave a slight cough. “Since you’ve thought it all through, I have nothing more to say.”
With that, he turned and left.
Feng Lezhen had originally planned to invite him to sit in the main hall, so she looked a little puzzled. “Grandfather, won’t you stay for a cup of tea?”
“What’s so special about your tea here? I’ll drink my own at home!” Yu Shou retorted without even turning back.
Feng Lezhen chuckled and still went to the main hall, where—just as expected—Qin Wan had already prepared hot tea.
“Tastes just right. Wanwan’s tea always suits me best,” Feng Lezhen took a sip and didn’t forget to praise her steward.
Qin Wan smiled but didn’t get a chance to reply before the gardener rushed in.
“How improper! Running like that—what does it look like?” Qin Wan scolded, displeased.
But the gardener had no time for reprimands and spoke anxiously to Feng Lezhen, “Your Highness, bad news. Lord Yu insisted on taking those two pots of chrysanthemums—they’re already loaded on the carriage!”
Feng Lezhen was briefly stunned, then laughed. “At his age, still acting like a child.”
She looked up at the gardener. “Since he likes them, let him take them.”
“Yes, Your Highness…” the gardener sighed in relief.
After dismissing the gardener, Feng Lezhen asked, “How’s Fu Zhixian been these past two days?”
“Replying to Your Highness—his spirits have improved a lot, but he refuses to eat. Says he’s already lying in bed all day, and if he eats any more, his body won’t look good,” Qin Wan answered, her mouth twitching slightly at the last part.
Feng Lezhen was speechless. After a moment of silence, she said, “Let him starve, then.”
Qin Wan chuckled.
“Who’s taking care of him now?” Feng Lezhen asked again.
“Usually Fan Gonggong,” Qin Wan replied. “But he keeps calling Ah Ye over, says if he can’t see Your Highness, at least let him talk to Ah Ye. He’s pestered her so much she’s fed up. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s still injured, she probably would’ve hit him by now.”
Feng Lezhen imagined the scene and couldn’t help but smile a little.
Seeing that smile, Qin Wan hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Lord Fu… truly made a great commitment this time.”
Feng Lezhen’s eyes shifted slightly as she looked calmly at her.
“…I have no place to meddle in Your Highness’s personal matters,” Qin Wan continued softly, eyes lowered. “It’s just… I no longer know what attitude I should take toward Lord Fu. I hope Your Highness might give some direction.”
But Feng Lezhen said nothing for a long time.
Qin Wan began to grow uneasy, thinking she’d spoken out of turn and was just about to apologize, when Feng Lezhen sighed gently and said, “Take good care of him. I’ll go see him in a few days.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Feng Lezhen set down her teacup, rose, and walked to the doorway. Lifting her eyes, she saw the high brick wall ahead.
Behind that wall was the side courtyard where Fu Zhixian was staying.
It was already midday. Lunch had yet to be delivered, and Fu Zhixian had already complained of hunger several times. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Ah Ye brought over a plate of pastries. “Lord Fu, have a few of these to hold you over?”
“Too sweet. Too greasy,” Fu Zhixian replied with just four words.
Ah Ye narrowed her eyes. “Want me to have someone bring something else?”
“You don’t even call yourself a servant anymore,” Fu Zhixian said wistfully. “You used to always say ‘this servant,’ no matter what the Princess or I told you. And now you suddenly changed?”
“You used to be half my master. It made sense to call myself a servant then. But now we’ve got nothing to do with each other—why should I still call you that?” Ah Ye snapped. “And you always lied to me. The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is out of respect for Her Highness.”
Mentioning the Princess brought a flicker of amusement to Fu Zhixian’s eyes. “And Her Highness? Why hasn’t she come to see me these past two days?”
“She’s too busy cleaning up the mess you made. You think she has time for you?” Ah Ye shot back.
Fu Zhixian, bedridden though he was, had coaxed enough information out of her to be well aware of the outside rumors. Hearing her response now, he just smiled. “Don’t lie to me. Her Highness went into the palace and nearly scared the Emperor out of his wits. What kind of mess would she have to clean up after that?”
“How do you know the Emperor was scared?” Ah Ye lifted her chin.
Fu Zhixian raised a brow. “I understand the Emperor no less than I understand you.”
“Peh! As if you know me!” Ah Ye retorted indignantly.
Fu Zhixian only smiled again and didn’t press the point.
He had lost a lot of blood earlier, and his complexion still hadn’t fully recovered. With his eyelashes lowered like this, he gave the illusion of someone who might shatter at any moment.
Ah Ye gave a small cough. Once he looked back at her, she said awkwardly, “You really… you went out of your way to suffer. There are so many ways to show your loyalty to Her Highness—why pick the one that puts you in mortal danger? Chen Jinan…”
At the mention of that name, she stopped talking.
Fu Zhixian’s smile remained faint. He waited until her emotions settled, then said, “I didn’t do all this just to prove my loyalty.”
“Then what for?” Ah Ye asked, genuinely curious.
Fu Zhixian looked at her for a moment, then replied with a smile, “To test whether Chen Jinan is still on Her Highness’s side.”
Ah Ye’s eyes widened in shock.
The room went quiet for a long time before she asked in a small voice, “And what did your test reveal?”
She didn’t fully understand how Chen Jinan had suddenly risen to the position of General, but there was something suspicious about the whole thing—something that made her uneasy every time she thought about it. Could Chen Jinan really have betrayed Her Highness? It was a question she’d been asking herself nearly every day.
Looking at the deep furrow in Ah Ye’s brow, Fu Zhixian’s smile didn’t waver. “I asked him whether he tried to kill me to clear the way for Her Highness. He didn’t nod.”
“…And what does that prove?” Ah Ye hesitated.
Fu Zhixian put on an innocent expression. “Probably nothing. Just that, at the time, he thought I was as good as dead—so there was no need to lie to me.”
“You mean… he didn’t kill you for Her Highness, but for himself?” Ah Ye slowly grasped his meaning, and her heart began to sink.
Fu Zhixian sighed. “It’s understandable, really. Being a servant of the Princess’s household is nothing compared to being a mighty general who commands respect across the land. Before he officially takes a side, Her Highness wouldn’t touch him lightly. As long as he killed me, he’d be safe—for now. And during that ‘for now,’ there’s a lot he could do…”
His tone was meaningful, but he didn’t finish the thought.
“That’s impossible! Chen Jinan isn’t that kind of person,” Ah Ye protested, frowning.
Fu Zhixian remained calm. “Before Her Highness left the capital, did you think I was that kind of person?”
Ah Ye: “…”
She had no comeback for that.
She shot to her feet. “I’m going to tell Her Highness.”
“Tell her what? Sit down.” Fu Zhixian stopped her. “Right now, it’s all just speculation. If you tell Her Highness before there’s proof, it’ll only distract her.”
“So… so we say nothing?” Ah Ye asked, then looked at him suspiciously. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“If I were lying, I wouldn’t have stopped you from telling her,” Fu Zhixian said, aggrieved.
That sounded reasonable. Ah Ye hesitated, then reluctantly sat back down. “So… we really say nothing?”
“No need to. Let’s wait and see,” Fu Zhixian soothed.
Ah Ye remained uneasy, her mind spinning in circles. In the end, she could only nod and agree.
As they were speaking, the food arrived. Ah Ye got up to serve it to him, but Fu Zhixian said, “Just give me a bowl of porridge.”
“Didn’t you say you were starving?” Ah Ye frowned.
Fu Zhixian looked completely serene. “If I eat too much, I’ll get fat. What if Her Highness doesn’t like me anymore?”
Ah Ye: “…” Insane.
Fu Zhixian happily ate his porridge, while Ah Ye sat there, weighed down with worry.
That anxiety lingered into the evening. As she helped Feng Lezhen comb her hair, she stood there blankly holding the comb for a long time.
Feng Lezhen glanced at her in the mirror and asked calmly, “What did Fu Zhixian say to you?”
Ah Ye snapped out of it. She was about to tell the truth, but then remembered Fu Zhixian’s warning. “N-nothing…”
Feng Lezhen didn’t press. After her hair was done, she simply turned and went to lie down in bed.
Ah Ye opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and eventually just blew out the candle and walked out.
“One… two… three…” In the dark, Feng Lezhen counted under her breath.
Just as she finished counting to three, Ah Ye ran back in. “Your Highness, I have to tell you something!”
Feng Lezhen smiled. “Go ahead—what nonsense did Fu Zhixian fill your head with this time?”
Ah Ye paused for a beat, but quickly relayed everything Fu Zhixian had said. When she finished, she added worriedly, “Lord Fu said he kept it quiet because he didn’t want to distract Your Highness… but the more I think about it, the more I feel it’s something you should know early. If Chen Jinan really has betrayed you, then at least you can be prepared.”
“And do you think Chen Jinan betrayed me?” Feng Lezhen asked.
Ah Ye was silent for a long time. Only when Feng Lezhen turned over in bed did she hesitantly reply, “I… I don’t know. I want to believe he wouldn’t. But then, I also thought Lord Fu would never betray Your Highness—and yet…”
As Fu Zhixian had said, in the face of overwhelming power, how many people could truly resist temptation?
“Your Highness, am I stupid?” On that autumn night, Ah Ye suddenly felt deeply dejected.
Feng Lezhen let out a soft laugh. “The human heart is hard to read. Not being able to see through it is normal—it has nothing to do with being stupid. Don’t belittle yourself.”
“Then… is Chen Jinan still on our side?” Ah Ye asked cautiously.
Feng Lezhen was silent for a moment, then said, “It’s late. Go get some rest—we have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“…Yes.” Ah Ye didn’t get a direct answer, but her heart was somewhat at ease now. She resolved to ignore Fu Zhixian from now on.
The news of Feng Lezhen’s nighttime intrusion into the palace had indeed shaken Feng Ji greatly. In just two or three days, word spread that the Emperor had fallen ill—according to the imperial physicians, it was a stress-induced seizure brought on by extreme fear.
Since the night their relations fell apart completely, Feng Lezhen no longer bothered with appearances. After the Emperor fell ill, she didn’t visit even once. On the contrary, she grew more aggressive in her campaign to “cleanse the Emperor’s inner circle.” Using his illness as an excuse, she even stopped submitting memorials, blatantly pruning away his supporters under the pretense that he must not be disturbed.
Her bold and undisguised actions threw the entire court into turmoil. Nobles and officials were panicked, while the common folk remained relatively calm. At most, they chatted occasionally about who had committed what offense today, or who had been hauled off to prison.
Feng Lezhen had predicted the people’s reaction early on. After all, ordinary people lived ordinary lives—compared to the drama among the elite, they cared more about their fields and their meals.
While she made her sweeping moves to eliminate opposition, Fu Zhixian, after a few days of recovery at the Princess’s estate, finally returned home.
With Fu Wu gone and his three remaining children either dead or ruined, the Fu family had become a hollow shell.
Madam Fu, who had once resigned herself to fate, suddenly realized—after hearing how the Princess had torn apart all ties with the Emperor for Fu Zhixian—that everything in the past had been manmade.
The more she thought about it, the more hatred and terror twisted in her heart—until, one night when no one was watching, Madam Fu finally went completely mad.
The moment Fu Zhixian stepped through the door, he saw her clutching a birdcage and dashing toward him like a maniac, while several maids trailed behind, anxious and helpless, trying to stop her.
Seeing she was about to crash into him, a guard instinctively moved to shield Fu Zhixian, but Fu Zhixian raised his hand to stop him. The guard paused, then stood back, while Fu Zhixian remained calm, watching the crazed woman run straight toward him.
Just a few steps away from colliding, Madam Fu suddenly met his gaze. She froze briefly, then veered off to the side.
Seeing this, Fu Zhixian let out a small laugh. “Seems she’s not completely gone.”
“Ever since Your Excellency was rescued by the Princess, she’s been living in constant fear. She finally lost her mind two days ago,” the guard said in a low voice. “I brought someone to examine her—it’s definitely not an act.”
Fu Zhixian’s face remained composed. “Madam Fu was a famously proper noblewoman, someone who valued rules more than life itself. If she weren’t truly insane, she would never be running around like this half-dressed.”
“A madwoman in the household… If word gets out, it won’t be good for your reputation, sir. Should we…” The guard made a throat-slitting gesture.
Madam Fu was still running around the courtyard. The maids chasing after her were clearly fed up, but with Fu Zhixian watching, none dared slack off. They could only keep pleading with her.
Fu Zhixian watched the ridiculous scene in silence, then said, “She’s already mad—just let her live.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard answered and helped him continue forward.
Fu Zhixian walked slowly, leaving the chaos behind him. But just as he stepped through the stone gate into the inner courtyard, he heard the madwoman behind him suddenly grit her teeth and scream, “Drown you—drown you, you wretched woman…”
Fu Zhixian paused and looked back to see her clutching the birdcage with both hands, like she was strangling someone. He stood still for a moment, then turned away again with an unchanged expression.
That night, the once-noble Madam Fu drowned in her own estate’s pond. When her body was pulled out, her eyes were wide with terror, and the birdcage she’d held was jammed over her head—making her death resemble an execution by drowning in a pig cage.
In just half a month, the master of the Fu family was dead, and the madam was gone too. Only Fu Zhixian remained—spurned by the emperor and seemingly not favored by the Princess either. The once-glorious Fu family was now an empty shell, a tower without a foundation, ready to collapse with a breeze. Everyone kept their distance, fearing they’d be caught in the ruin.
The morning after Madam Fu’s death, Feng Lezhen heard the news. She merely said she understood, as if it had nothing to do with her—but once night fell, she ordered a carriage prepared.
Four years had passed since she last set foot in the Fu residence. Her mindset was completely different now. Looking at the bleak courtyard, Feng Lezhen couldn’t help frowning deeply.
When she entered Fu Zhixian’s room, he was in the middle of applying medicine. As the gauze was peeled away layer by layer, the gruesome wounds were revealed to the air. Aside from the sword wound Chen Jinan had given him, most of the other injuries were from whipping. Only his shoulder blades bore a pair of deep punctures—left by a rake. Even after all this time, they were still oozing blood, more terrifying than the chest wound.
“These wretched dogs were truly bold,” Feng Lezhen said lightly.
Fu Zhixian gave a faint smile. “Can’t blame them entirely, can we?”
After all, those men only dared to act because they wanted to curry favor with a certain general, even though the situation hadn’t been settled yet.
Feng Lezhen could hear the meaning behind his words clearly but chose to ignore it.
Fu Zhixian didn’t mind. He glanced at the physician who was dressing his wounds. The man immediately bowed and left.
“Your Highness, could I trouble you for a favor?” He looked up, eyes wide and innocent.
He was clearly a man, yet those watery eyes of his had an almost unnatural charm. When his lashes lifted and fell, it was enough to steal someone’s breath away.
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a moment, then slowly stepped forward.
As she picked up the gauze, Fu Zhixian’s eyes lit with a smile. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“The wounds are healing well—you’ve clearly been resting properly,” she remarked offhandedly, then focused on wrapping his injuries.
Her slender, beautiful fingers brushed against his skin, leaving faint but familiar sensations in their wake. When she needed to wrap the gauze, she had to encircle his lean waist with her arms.
He was only wearing underclothes to facilitate the treatment, his upper body fully bare. As she moved closer, her cheek accidentally grazed his firm chest.
The air suddenly felt stiflingly warm—perhaps it was his body heat.
Fu Zhixian swallowed hard before he slowly said, “If I didn’t rest properly, Your Highness would be angry.”
It was a response to her earlier comment.
Feng Lezhen’s lashes fluttered slightly. “I couldn’t care less about you.”
Fu Zhixian smiled. “If you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t have made time to visit me.”
Feng Lezhen paused and jabbed his wound without warning, making him suck in a sharp breath.
“Where did you pick up this awful habit… Getting more violent by the day,” Fu Zhixian chuckled bitterly, but didn’t dare provoke her further.
The room fell briefly silent—until Fu Zhixian broke it again. “Lately, His Majesty has been summoning Chen Jinan often, urging him to lead troops north as soon as possible.”
Feng Lezhen’s expression didn’t change. “Even though you’ve fallen out of favor, you still have the leisure to care about these matters?”
“Precisely because I’ve fallen out of favor, I have to work harder to avoid falling out of your favor,” Fu Zhixian said with a smile.
Feng Lezhen gave him a glance, then returned to the topic. “Forming a usable army isn’t so simple. Our dear emperor still underestimates the difficulty.”
“There may be more to it too,” Fu Zhixian said. “But he keeps everyone else at a distance during their meetings, so I haven’t been able to gather much. Still, after what Your Highness did to humiliate him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s planning his next move.”
“Let him do as he likes. If troops come, we’ll meet them with our own.” Feng Lezhen’s tone was light and unbothered.
While they spoke, Fu Zhixian’s wounds had already been bandaged. Feng Lezhen casually wiped the remaining ointment from her hands and was about to wash up when Fu Zhixian suddenly grasped her fingers.
Feng Lezhen paused and calmly looked at him.
“Your nails are getting long. Let me trim them for you,” Fu Zhixian said, tilting his head. In his luminous eyes, her face was clearly reflected.
Since she entered the room, neither of them had brought up the death of Madam Fu, nor the satisfaction Fu Zhixian might have felt in avenging her. Some things didn’t need to be said. They were too familiar with each other—two lifetimes, decades of time, most of it so closely intertwined that they might as well have shared flesh and blood.
She had come today just to see how he was doing.
“Your Highness.” Fu Zhixian seemed to sense her intent to refuse and tightened his grip on her hand.
After a long moment, Feng Lezhen sighed softly.
Still too soft-hearted.
As night deepened, the candlelight flickered. At some point, a gentle rain began to fall outside, soaking the flowerbeds. The flowers that had been in full bloom were now weighed down by the damp air, their stems drooping, trembling pitifully in the wind.
After the drizzle, the air smelled fresh. A carriage silently exited the back gate of the Fu residence and headed toward the Princess’s manor.
Inside the carriage, Feng Lezhen ran her fingers over her neatly filed, beautifully rounded nails and closed her eyes, feeling a little weary.
It was already late. Though the curfew hadn’t officially begun, the streets were empty. The carriage sped down the deserted road, and Feng Lezhen, leaning against the soft seat, unknowingly drifted off. A gust of wind lifted the curtain and startled her awake. She frowned, pinched the bridge of her nose, and was about to ask how much longer until they arrived when she heard the sound of wheels clattering over stone—
—another carriage was approaching.
She lifted the curtain and looked out just as a carriage passed by in the opposite direction.
At the moment their carriages brushed past each other, a gust of wind blew both curtains into the air. Feng Lezhen glanced instinctively—
—and met a pair of calm and resolute eyes.
