Feng Lezhen had only sat in the courtyard for a little while before returning inside to rest, worn out. By the time she awoke, night had fully fallen. Ah Ye sat at the bedside, eyes red, silently staring at her.
Feng Lezhen was quiet for a moment, then said, “You look at me like that, and I’m honestly a bit scared.”
“Don’t tease, Your Highness. What’s there to be afraid of from me?” Ah Ye said, but couldn’t help letting out a soft sob.
Feng Lezhen sighed and pushed herself upright with help from the bedding. “Did you take your medicine today?”
“I did,” Ah Ye replied softly, eyes welling up again.
Feng Lezhen gave a faint laugh. “What’s wrong now? You were fine this afternoon, weren’t you?”
“Just now when Doctor Shen was applying medicine to Your Highness, I saw all the bruises on you…” Ah Ye said, voice breaking again.
Feng Lezhen changed the subject, “Suifeng was here?”
“Yes, Doctor Shen came especially to apply your medicine. You were sleeping so soundly he didn’t want to wake you,” Ah Ye answered.
Only then did Feng Lezhen realize that her clothes had been changed and that much of the ache in her limbs and bones had eased. Thinking how all that had been done while she slept without her knowing, she gave a helpless smile. “I must’ve been sleeping deeply.”
“More like unconscious. You’ve been far too exhausted these past days.” Ah Ye looked carefully at her face. “And now? After a few hours’ sleep, do you feel a little better?”
“Much better.” Feng Lezhen paused. “Where’s Suifeng?”
“He’s still keeping watch in the side courtyard,” Ah Ye replied.
Feng Lezhen nodded. “Take me there.”
Ah Ye answered and went to summon the attendants to carry the sedan chair.
That was the trouble with an injured foot—whatever she did, she had to be carried. By the time they reached the side courtyard, a quarter of an hour had passed.
Inside, only Chen Jinan, still unconscious, and a dozing guard by the bedside remained. Shen Suifeng was nowhere to be seen. The guard snapped awake at the sound, and when he saw it was Feng Lezhen, he quickly saluted.
“At ease,” Feng Lezhen lifted her hand slightly. “How is Jinan?”
“He woke once around dusk but fell asleep again soon after,” the guard replied.
Feng Lezhen nodded and, with Ah Ye’s help, sat by the bed. The guard, seeing the situation clearly, clasped his fists and said, “I’ll stand watch outside.”
With that, he and Ah Ye exited together.
Only Feng Lezhen and Chen Jinan were left in the room. He had wounds on both his front and back, so lying flat was the only possible position for rest. Feng Lezhen sat by the bed, quietly gazing at his pale and peaceful face for a long while before lowering her eyes and gently taking his hand.
“You have to get better soon,” she whispered with a sigh.
His eyelashes fluttered slightly, as though he’d heard her voice.
Feng Lezhen’s heart stirred, and she leaned closer. “Chen Jinan?”
His lashes trembled more noticeably.
“Chen Jinan,” she called again. This time, even his fingers twitched slightly, as if he were struggling to wake up.
Feng Lezhen let out a soft laugh and sat back. “Alright, I won’t bother you anymore. Sleep a bit more.”
Just as the words left her lips, Chen Jinan opened his eyes.
The sudden eye contact made Feng Lezhen pause slightly, but Chen Jinan remained calm. After a long silence, he slowly blinked and rasped out in a hoarse voice, “Your Highness…”
“Does it still hurt?” Feng Lezhen asked.
He didn’t answer, only stared at her.
Feng Lezhen didn’t press him further, simply letting him look at her.
The red candle on the table burned steadily, wax dripping down to the base and slowly congealing back into form.
After a while, Chen Jinan finally closed his eyes with contentment. “So even after dying, I can still see Your Highness…”
Feng Lezhen froze, then couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time—this guy still hadn’t fully come to his senses.
A trace of helplessness flickered in her eyes. Once his breathing evened out again, she reached for a nearby handkerchief, wet it with warm water, and gently wiped his face.
The dim candlelight cast a soft glow over her brows and eyes. At the doorway, Shen Suifeng stood with medicine in hand. Only when she put down the cloth did he pretend nothing had happened and entered the room.
“Your Highness, instead of resting in your chambers, what are you doing here?” he asked.
Feng Lezhen paused, met his gaze, and gave him an innocent smile.
Shen Suifeng sighed. “Forget it. I don’t have the energy to argue with you.”
As he spoke, he slapped two patches onto Chen Jinan’s neck.
“What’s that?” Feng Lezhen asked curiously.
“Medicine to prevent a fever. His injuries are severe—if a fever sets in, the wounds won’t heal well,” Shen Suifeng explained.
Feng Lezhen nodded. “I see.”
The room quieted again.
Shen Suifeng lowered his gaze, took Chen Jinan’s pulse, checked the wound, then turned to the table and began writing the prescription for the next day.
“Though his injuries are serious, they didn’t damage his organs—so in the end, it’s not that big of a deal. What concerns me more is you. I don’t know what kind of nonsense you’ve been doing over the past year, but your qi and blood are depleted, your meridians are clogged, and your spirit is nothing like before. You even have trouble sleeping at night, don’t you?” Shen Suifeng shot her a cold glance. “I’ll prescribe a restorative tonic starting tomorrow. If you keep running yourself into the ground like this, I’ll…”
Do what? He fell silent.
In the past, he would have argued with her, pressured her into taking care of herself. But now—did he still have the right to force her to do anything?
His writing hand trembled slightly, and a drop of ink fell onto the pristine white paper.
Feng Lezhen noticed his sudden silence and, after a moment, looked at him gently. “I always listen to you.”
Shen Suifeng gave a small smile. “You’d better.”
He quickly finished the prescription with a few strokes.
“I’ll give it to Steward Qin first thing tomorrow morning,” he said.
Feng Lezhen nodded.
The two of them locked eyes again, neither saying a word.
After a long pause, Shen Suifeng turned his face away. “You should rest now.”
Feng Lezhen came back to herself and instinctively glanced at Chen Jinan. Seeing he was sleeping soundly, she nodded silently.
Only after nodding did she realize Shen Suifeng hadn’t looked at her. So she added, “Alright.”
“I’ll take you back,” Shen Suifeng said, standing and approaching her.
“No need. Let Ah Ye prepare the sedan chair—”
“Why bother?” he cut her off suddenly. “Or… are you saying I no longer even have the right to carry you on my back?”
Only after the words left his mouth did he realize his tone had turned harsh. He pressed his lips together and added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“I know,” Feng Lezhen replied with a soft laugh, not minding his sudden irritability.
Shen Suifeng said nothing more. He turned around, lifted her onto his back, and walked slowly outside.
It was still an overcast night—no stars at all. The stone path in the courtyard was covered with fallen leaves, soft underfoot. Feng Lezhen, trying to make it easier for him, wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck.
Shen Suifeng paused for a moment, then resumed walking at a steady pace. “Yingguan must be blanketed in snow by now.”
“Mhm. A few days ago, Jingren wrote saying it’s already begun to snow over there,” Feng Lezhen replied in a low voice.
Shen Suifeng lifted the corners of his lips. “Winters in Yingguan are bitterly cold and hard to bear. But strangely, not spending it there this year feels a little… unnatural.”
“It does, doesn’t it? Hard to get used to,” Feng Lezhen’s eyes curved with a smile. “How are you doing in Yunming?”
“Everything’s fine. Yunming is like spring all year round—whether it’s herbs or flowers, they grow as soon as you tend to them. I quite like it,” Shen Suifeng replied.
Feng Lezhen asked, “And Jingqing? Is he doing well?”
“He’s well. When he first arrived, he didn’t take to the climate and was sick for nearly a month. But he’s been fine since. When I said I was coming to see you, he insisted on coming too—said he didn’t feel at ease letting you be in the capital alone. I had to work hard to talk him out of it.” Shen Suifeng sighed as he mentioned Qi Jingqing, clearly troubled by the memory.
Feng Lezhen chuckled. “He looks easygoing, but once he gets stubborn, even eight oxen wouldn’t pull him back.”
“Exactly,” Shen Suifeng shook his head. “Enough about us—let’s talk about you. This afternoon, I went out to buy some herbs and ran into that Lord Fu.”
“He gave you trouble?” Feng Lezhen asked.
“Not at all. In fact, he even thanked me. He wasn’t half so polite when I treated him years ago, but now he’s all courtesy,” Shen Suifeng said, then sighed. “Come to think of it—Fu Zhixian, Qi Jingqing… Chen Jinan… all of them have been my patients. Don’t tell me every man you’ve ever been with, I’ve treated?”
“Not quite. There are two you haven’t,” Feng Lezhen said, pausing before adding, “But one of their mothers? You personally traveled to Tayuan to treat her.”
Shen Suifeng: “…”
His speechlessness made Feng Lezhen laugh, but after laughing, she suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. She leaned forward, gently brushing her face against his neck. “Suifeng…”
“I understand,” Shen Suifeng’s eyes softened with a touch of helplessness. “I knew, the day I left, that this day would come. I understood it all.”
He carried her all the way back to her chambers, helped her lie down on the bed, and checked her injured foot before turning to leave.
But Feng Lezhen caught the corner of his robe.
Shen Suifeng paused, then gave her a teasing look. “Want me to stay with you tonight?”
“I’ll be busy for the next few days. If there are times I can’t take care of you properly, please don’t be upset.” She looked into his eyes, her tone extremely serious.
Shen Suifeng was silent for a long time. He wanted to say that he’d matured with age, wasn’t so clingy anymore, but in the end, he said nothing—just smiled and nodded.
Feng Lezhen watched his figure disappear. Her eyelids quickly grew heavy.
Though she had just woken up not long ago, it clearly wasn’t enough. This time, she didn’t even dream. When she opened her eyes again, sunlight was already streaming across the room.
Feng Lezhen rubbed her brow and sat up, calling out, “Ah Ye.”
Before long, Qin Wan came in instead. “Your Highness, Ah Ye is still recovering. You told her yesterday she didn’t need to serve for now.”
“…I forgot,” Feng Lezhen stretched on the bed, feeling noticeably more refreshed than the night before. “Yesterday I closed my doors and refused all visitors—they must be beside themselves with worry by now, huh?”
“Most were fine, but Lord Yu was furious. He left yesterday muttering angrily and was already waiting in the main hall before dawn today,” Qin Wan replied.
Feng Lezhen fell silent and looked at her.
“And, Your Highness,” Qin Wan added, “just yesterday, we received nearly two hundred visiting cards. It seems many are uneasy about Your Highness taking control of the palace. But this morning, no one came. The occasional messenger only delivered notes wishing Your Highness good health.”
Feng Lezhen raised her brows slightly. “I was too exhausted yesterday. I didn’t want to explain myself to every single one of them, so I avoided everyone, thinking once I’d slept enough, I’d tell them my plans. Why did they all stop coming?”
“Chen Jinan returned to his temporary residence at first light this morning,” Qin Wan suddenly shifted topics.
Feng Lezhen paused. “Instead of staying here to recover, what nonsense is he up to?”
“After he returned, he publicly confirmed that Feng Ji had planted gunpowder in the royal tomb to murder his own kin. He even declared that the emperor was disloyal, unjust, unfilial, and unbrotherly—unfit to rule Great Qian. From today forward, he will no longer serve him.” Qin Wan casually dropped this bombshell.
Feng Lezhen was speechless for a long time, then laughed softly. “Straightforward, as always. No wonder no one’s anxious anymore.”
Currently, there were only three military forces in the capital—hers, Feng Ji’s, and Chen Jinan’s. She had just seized control of the palace, and Chen Jinan had immediately followed by confirming Feng Ji’s crimes. That was essentially a public pledge of allegiance to the Eldest Princess. In other words, of the three forces, two now stood with her.
In comparison, the imperial guards hardly counted—and besides, many within their ranks were her people too.
Feng Lezhen’s expression visibly relaxed, her complexion brightening. Then she asked again, “He was that badly injured. How did he make it back?”
“On a stretcher. Master Shen went with him,” Qin Wan replied.
Feng Lezhen nodded. “With Suifeng there, I suppose there’s nothing to worry about.”
“…Your Highness,” Qin Wan said with a complicated expression.
“What is it?” Feng Lezhen asked.
“Rather than worrying about Chen Jinan, perhaps you should be worrying more about yourself,” Qin Wan hesitated before continuing, “Lord Yu is still waiting in the main hall.”
Feng Lezhen: “…” She had nearly forgotten.
The two locked eyes. After a long silence, Feng Lezhen cleared her throat. “Didn’t you say there were two hundred visiting cards yesterday?”
“Your Highness means…”
“The more people around, the less likely he’ll scold me in front of them,” Feng Lezhen said sincerely.
Qin Wan let out a soft laugh. She wanted to say that this was far too troublesome and that it would’ve been easier to just get scolded—but when she saw Feng Lezhen’s thin, pale face, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Instead, she summoned as many people as she could in the shortest time possible.
As it turned out, Old Master Yu really cared about appearances. When he saw that so many advisors were present, he couldn’t bring himself to embarrass his esteemed granddaughter. He was forced to suppress his anger and only gave Feng Lezhen’s bandaged foot a warning glance before leaving.
Feng Lezhen wore an expression of pure innocence, but after seeing them out, she still let out a weary sigh.
Qin Wan felt bad for her, but with important matters at hand, she didn’t dare suggest rest. “Your Highness, what should we do next?”
“We deal with the Imperial Guards,” Feng Lezhen said calmly. “I will break every one of Feng Ji’s wings—personally, one by one.”
Qin Wan lowered her head and answered softly.
The news that the current emperor had blown up the imperial tomb and tried to murder his own royal sister spread quickly through the streets. Public outrage surged. People said Feng Ji was unworthy of the throne, unworthy to be their ruler. As for the princess laying siege to the palace, most considered it satisfying. Only a small number of people hesitated, wondering how it was any different from rebellion.
Of course, the voices of a few were destined to be drowned out by the voices of the many—and even those few loud dissenters would soon disappear without a trace.
“This kind of move… definitely Fu Zhixian’s doing,” Feng Lezhen said with a chuckle after Ah Ye mentioned the public sentiment.
“I thought so!” Ah Ye’s eyes widened. “Even though the people already supported you, this unity is just too perfect—it turns out Lord Fu gave it a push.”
“He hasn’t come by these past few days—probably busy with this,” Feng Lezhen said, spreading her hands.
Ah Ye nodded, then added, “Chen Jinan hasn’t come either.”
“Oh, he wanted to,” Feng Lezhen said, thinking of the letter he sent her yesterday, two-thirds of which was about asking to come back and recuperate. She couldn’t help but smile a little.
Ever since waking up, he’d been sending her letters constantly—five or six a day. If she had time, she replied to them all; if not, just one. After a couple of days of this, he probably worried about distracting her from her duties and cut down to one or two letters a day. She noticed his concern and replied telling him he could keep writing—so the one or two letters promptly became seven or eight again.
Seeing the rare lightness in her mistress’s expression, Ah Ye grew curious. “Your Highness, you’ve been in such a good mood these days.”
“When a long-cherished wish is about to be fulfilled, how could I not be?” Feng Lezhen responded with a question of her own.
“Come on, it’s because of Chen Jinan,” Ah Ye muttered, pouting a little.
Feng Lezhen paused—but didn’t deny it.
“So… what do you two write about in all those letters?” Ah Ye asked, then quickly waved her hands. “Don’t tell me it’s official matters. I’ve never seen you so cheerful after discussing official business.”
“You want to know?” Feng Lezhen blinked.
Ah Ye nodded immediately.
Feng Lezhen thought for a moment, then simply pulled out a few letters. Ah Ye, despite mumbling that this wasn’t proper, grabbed them at once to read—
Every letter was thick, densely written, clearly done with care. But upon closer inspection, they were all filled with trivial nonsense. He kept asking what Her Highness had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; whether changing bandages hurt; whether the medicine was bitter; if she was sleeping well…
Ah Ye was speechless. She quickly put the letters down. “This Chen Jinan… I don’t even know what to say. And yet Your Highness is still willing to talk about such boring things with him?”
“I find it amusing,” Feng Lezhen smiled faintly. “At first, his letters were about official matters. But bit by bit, they became like this. I bet he doesn’t even realize how different he is when he writes compared to how he is normally.”
Seeing the smile in her mistress’s eyes, Ah Ye clicked her tongue silently and thought of Lord Fu, who was too busy to even visit, and Doctor Shen, who was diligently tending to his rival in love.
Hmm… both men were actually quite good. But—Ah Ye quietly glanced at Feng Lezhen again.
Well… fate and timing. Who could say?
The Imperial Guards were close to the emperor. Their sole mission was to protect him. Although Feng Ji had lost the people’s support, few were willing to openly side with Feng Lezhen. Fortunately, after years of mistreatment under Feng Ji and a chunk of them being taken away by Chen Jinan, their numbers were much diminished. Feng Lezhen tried to win them over, and when that failed, she simply had them detained for the time being.
After several days of effort, the bruises on Feng Lezhen’s body had faded noticeably, and she finally had time to visit her dear younger brother in the palace.
That day, a continuous autumn drizzle fell on the capital, chilling the air. Rain soaked the red walls and green tiles, giving the palace a damp, dull tone. The mood in the palace had been grim for days, only adding to the heavy atmosphere. Feng Lezhen sat in her palanquin and was carried without obstruction straight to the sleeping quarters.
The windows and doors were tightly shut. Thick incense burned inside the room, but it couldn’t cover the heavy smell of medicine. Feng Ji sat cross-legged on the inner floor in dragon robes, playing with a blank imperial edict. Even when he heard movement behind him, he didn’t look back.
Feng Lezhen didn’t mind the lack of courtesy. She sat gracefully in her palanquin, fixing her hair in a small mirror. Qin Wan glanced around, and the servants nearby immediately lowered their heads and left. Qin Wan poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to Feng Lezhen, then stepped back.
“Tea from the emperor’s chambers—unsurprisingly the finest,” Feng Lezhen said lightly, taking a slow sip.
Feng Ji still didn’t look back. “You dare drink the water from my chambers? Aren’t you afraid it’s poisoned?”
“I never take risks with my life,” Feng Lezhen replied calmly.
Feng Ji was silent for a while before turning his head expressionlessly to look at her. When he saw her foot wrapped in bandages, a trace of a smile curved his lips. “So it seems Royal Sister didn’t come out unscathed either this time.”
“I am human, not a god. Getting hurt is only natural,” Feng Lezhen replied, her gaze lingering meaningfully on the imperial edict in his hand. “As long as the injury is worth it, that’s enough.”
Feng Ji let out a light laugh, straightened his back, and met her eyes. “What do you think is written on this edict, Royal Sister? An abdication decree? Or a proclamation of succession?”
“It doesn’t matter what you write,” Feng Lezhen said casually, not at all troubled by the question. “In the end, the officials and the people will only see what I want them to see.”
Feng Ji laughed—first a chuckle, then full-bodied laughter, until he was leaning over on the ground, shoulders shaking with mirth.
A flicker of irritation passed through Feng Lezhen’s eyes, but she remained composed as she watched his fit of madness.
Feng Ji laughed until tears streamed down his face. Finally, he stopped and said hoarsely, “Royal Sister, you’re still far too naive. Do you really think that just because you have military power and the people’s support, you can sit securely on the throne? Whether it’s the court officials or the common folk, none of them will ever truly accept a woman as their emperor. Even if they accept it for now, the moment a male heir is born into the royal family, they’ll force you to give up what never should have been yours in the first place.”
“There’s no need for you to worry about that,” Feng Lezhen replied evenly, her gaze falling on his reddened eyes. “You only need to do one final thing.”
“What? Step down from the throne?” Feng Ji sneered, his eyes redder than ever. “Impossible. This is my throne. You can kill me and seize it by force, but I will never hand it over to you willingly!”
“In that case, there’s nothing more to say.” Feng Lezhen lifted her gaze to Qin Wan, who immediately signaled for the palanquin bearers to come in.
The palanquin was slowly lifted and carried toward the exit. Feng Ji watched her recede into the distance, suddenly erupting in a furious shout: “Why?! Why couldn’t you stay quietly in your place?! Why must you be so ambitious?! Why couldn’t you be like other women—tend to your husband, raise your son, enjoy a life of wealth and ease?! Why must you fight me?!”
“This is my throne! This is my empire! It was handed to me by the late emperor on his deathbed! Why are you so unfilial, why must you betray your father’s wishes?!”
Feng Ji screamed with blood and fury in every word, pouring out all his resentment. Even though the palanquin had exited the palace, his wretched cries still seemed to echo around them.
Qin Wan noticed Feng Lezhen seemed upset and was just about to suggest they go for a walk to clear her mind before returning to the residence—but before she could speak, she caught sight of someone near the carriage up ahead and immediately smiled. “Your Highness, look who’s here.”
Feng Lezhen looked up at her words. Seated in a wheelchair, Chen Jinan immediately straightened his back in nervous anticipation.
Feng Lezhen smiled helplessly. When the palanquin stopped in front of the carriage, she asked with amusement, “Suifeng actually let you out?”
“…I snuck out,” Chen Jinan mumbled, lowering his head and not daring to meet her eyes. “I heard Your Highness came to the palace… I was worried you might be upset, so I came to see you.”
“You heard from Ah Ye, didn’t you? That girl really has too much time on her hands,” Feng Lezhen said at once, correctly guessing the culprit.
Chen Jinan grew more flustered and was about to explain when a cool hand gently touched his cheek. He stiffened slightly and looked at her in a daze.
“Does the wound still hurt?” Feng Lezhen asked softly.
Chen Jinan’s throat bobbed, but he couldn’t get a word out.
In her eyes, it was as if an entire lake of tenderness shimmered. He had seen that lake many times before—when she looked at Fu Zhixian, at Shen Suifeng, at Qi Jingqing. But this was the first time… the first time that same lake appeared in her gaze when looking at him.
Suddenly, he was transported back to the road to Zhou Family Village, lying injured in a dry roadside ditch, surrounded by sprouting wheat and a boundless sky above.
He had been alone, gravely wounded, his life nearly at its end.
But he had felt joy.
Because he had dreamed—a dream where she cupped his face and kissed his lips gently. In the dream, she said that if he lived well, she would give him whatever he wanted.
After waking, he often lost sleep thinking of that dream—sometimes joyful, sometimes pained, sometimes ashamed that he dared to dream of her at all.
But now… now he realized clearly: it wasn’t a dream.
He had survived. So what would she give him? What did he truly want?
Chen Jinan had a thousand questions—but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
“Cat got your tongue?” Feng Lezhen teased, amused by his stunned expression. She cupped his face and gave it a little rub. “Weren’t you quite the chatterbox in your letters?”
Chen Jinan blinked slowly, and his face flushed crimson.
Feng Lezhen didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore and boarded the carriage with him.
As the carriage pulled away, Fu Zhixian—waiting by the palace’s side gate to escort Feng Lezhen home—witnessed everything. His nails dug deep into his palm.
