Wenge’s purchases may have been childish, but they were incredibly useful for passing the time. Now, not only was Feng Lezhen no longer bored, even Wenge didn’t have to sit around idly all day. Every afternoon after lunch, they would have little wagers to kill time, and when evening came, they would return to their own rooms.
This routine lasted nearly ten days. Wenge’s wound finally scabbed over, and Feng Lezhen used up the last of the jinchuang medicine.
“Once it’s scabbed, no more ointment is needed. But the cut is deep—by the end of the month, it still might not be fully healed.” Feng Lezhen held a handkerchief, carefully wiping down the now-empty medicine bottle.
Wenge glanced at her. “Don’t worry—it won’t affect my ability to save people.”
“If it won’t affect you, then I should be worried,” Feng Lezhen joked lightly.
Wenge paused, and his expression darkened.
They had gotten along too well lately. He often forgot their respective roles and positions—but thankfully, he always caught himself before she tricked him into revealing too much.
Feng Lezhen couldn’t be bothered to guess what he was thinking. She just kept her head down, focused on cleaning the bottle. Even when it was already polished to a shine, she refused to stop. Wenge watched her for a long while before finally speaking up.
“It’s empty. Why clean it so thoroughly if you’re not even going to keep it?”
“Gift from a friend—I wouldn’t dare throw it out, wouldn’t dare,” Feng Lezhen said with a light laugh.
Wenge asked, “Was it from that Shen Suifeng?”
“You know?” Feng Lezhen looked rather surprised.
Expressionless, Wenge replied, “Before we carry out an assassination, we always have to lie low for a while and gather information on the target.”
Feng Lezhen nodded in understanding, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Other than him, what else have you found out?”
“I found out that Her Highness the Eldest Princess is entangled with this physician named Shen Suifeng, and also keeps the shizi of the Zhenbian Marquis in her household.” Wenge looked at her bluntly. “Your Highness really has it hard—managing both the government office and military camp by day, and balancing men when you return home.”
“Jealous?” Feng Lezhen countered.
Wenge: “…”
“Nothing to be jealous of, am I not here with you now?” Feng Lezhen teased with perfect calm.
Wenge’s face darkened a bit, though the skin behind his ears had flushed red.
Feng Lezhen tucked the cleaned medicine bottle into her sleeve, then turned to fetch the cuju ball. “Let’s play today.”
“No,” Wenge refused without hesitation.
“You really are jealous?” Feng Lezhen asked.
“I’m not…”
“Then shall I coax you?” Feng Lezhen gave him no chance to argue.
Wenge fell silent for a while, then finally said through clenched teeth, “If I win, you can’t speak for three days.”
“Three days?” Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit much?”
“If you won’t agree, then we’re not playing.”
“Fine then.” Feng Lezhen sighed regretfully. “If I win, you’ll serve me in bed tonight.”
Wenge’s face went green.
“If you really don’t want to, we can forget that,” Feng Lezhen smiled slyly. “Then… how about just a kiss?”
“…Fine.” Compared to bedding her, a kiss was more acceptable.
With the bet settled, Feng Lezhen walked out with the ball, and Wenge followed. But the more he walked, the more something felt off. “…You never intended for me to serve in bed, did you? You planned from the start that it would just be a kiss.”
“Did I?” Feng Lezhen looked innocently at him.
“You really are a liar!” Wenge huffed in frustration.
“And you’re a bandit. Doesn’t that make us a perfect match?” she retorted with a laugh.
Wenge stiffened and turned his face away, refusing to acknowledge her.
It was precisely because his reactions were always so amusing—and being stuck here was so boring—that Feng Lezhen kept teasing him, endlessly finding entertainment in provoking him.
“Let’s start,” Feng Lezhen said, kicking the ball without warning.
Wenge was already numb to her cheating. He didn’t rush or complain—he just silently vowed to make her lose terribly.
Half an hour later, he got his wish.
“You lost. Remember—no talking for three days.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and couldn’t help but laugh.
His face still held the youthful look of a boy, making him appear a few years younger than his actual age. On normal days, he had to keep a stern expression just to appear remotely serious. But now, with a genuine smile, all his cold composure vanished, replaced by the vibrant energy of youth.
Feng Lezhen felt her heart stir—like seeing a round, fluffy kitten or puppy, irresistible and begging to be touched. She didn’t hold back. Thinking so, she reached out without hesitation.
When her fingers pinched his cheek, Wenge froze, then reflexively slapped her hand away.
Pa.
The sound was crisp. Before Feng Lezhen could even react, Wenge was stunned. Seeing the red mark forming on the back of her hand, he felt a sudden panic. He had held back—why was it still so loud?
“I…” I what? Apologize? The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Wenge couldn’t say them. He only stared at her in silence.
Feng Lezhen looked at him as if about to speak, but in the end said nothing and returned to the house.
They didn’t see each other again until dinner.
Wenge had made a full table of dishes. Even the usual plain rice porridge was upgraded with egg ribbons and yellow wine, giving off a rich and fragrant aroma.
When Feng Lezhen came out, he instinctively glanced at her hand. Seeing no obvious marks, he relaxed slightly, though still a bit uneasy. “Let’s eat,” he said.
Feng Lezhen nodded and sat down silently.
Normally, it was Feng Lezhen who started conversations, with Wenge occasionally replying. Now that she said nothing, Wenge didn’t know how to begin either. So the table fell into complete silence, broken only by the soft clinking of dishes.
After just one bowl of porridge, Feng Lezhen got up. Distracted, Wenge reached out and grabbed her hand without thinking. “Where are you going?”
Feng Lezhen looked at him but didn’t answer.
“There’s still so much food left—sit down.” Wenge didn’t know how to talk to her anymore and simply put on a stern face.
Feng Lezhen didn’t argue. She sat back down and picked at a few more bites.
Wenge stole glances at her several times but had no idea what to say. Finally, when she rose to leave again, he blurted out, “Wait.”
Feng Lezhen stopped and looked at him calmly.
Wenge hadn’t even moved yet, but his cheeks were already heating up. He stood there, struggling with himself.
Feng Lezhen didn’t rush him. She waited silently, curious to see what he would do.
After a long stalemate, Wenge finally seemed to make up his mind. He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cheek.
“You can pinch me,” he said, sounding like he was facing death.
Feng Lezhen was speechless for a moment. Then she gently withdrew her hand.
Wenge froze, then his mood suddenly darkened. “Not even that? Then at least hit me back. What’s the point of giving me the cold shoulder all day… It’s not like I want to talk to you. In fact, I’m happier when you’re quiet. But why? Why do you get to act like this? Your life is still in my hands—what gives you the right to treat me like this?”
Feng Lezhen’s brow lifted slightly.
“Speak!” Wenge felt like there was a volcano buried deep inside him, puffing white smoke, just a hair’s breadth away from erupting into lava that could destroy everything.
Feng Lezhen said calmly, “Did you forget that I lost the cuju match this afternoon?”
The puffing volcano suddenly went silent. Wenge froze.
Feng Lezhen added, with a faint air of grievance, “I haven’t broken the bet—it’s you who insisted on making me talk.”
The volcano flared up again—but this time, it was smaller, confined entirely to Wenge himself. His whole body felt like it was burning up, embarrassment overtaking most of the anger. “You tricked me again!”
“I didn’t even say anything!” Feng Lezhen’s tone was the very picture of innocent indignation—if not for the laughter in her eyes, Wenge might have really thought he’d wrongly accused her.
They locked eyes again. Feng Lezhen broke into a smile. Wenge turned and stormed into the room without looking back.
“Young people—so easy to provoke,” Feng Lezhen sighed with feigned regret, then looked up at the tall wall in front of her.
It had been over ten days. She figured it wouldn’t be long now before Ah Ye found this place.
Late at night, during curfew.
The streets were deserted except for patrolling soldiers. Dressed in black, Ah Ye led a search party through the shadowed Yue City. They had already combed the east and north districts in recent days. All that remained was the west, with its dense web of alleys, and the south, which was like a desolate wasteland full of hidden cellars.
“The west alleys are old and run-down. Most people have moved out—it doesn’t look like anyone’s living there. Let’s search the south first,” someone suggested.
Ah Ye stood atop a high building, looking out at the sparsely lit west alleyways. After a long silence, he said, “We’ll search the west first. I have a feeling Her Highness is there.”
“Yes, sir.”
The night was long, but even the longest night must end. By morning, Wenge thought the awkwardness from the day before had mostly passed—but the moment he saw Feng Lezhen, he realized he was wrong.
When Feng Lezhen saw his cheeks flush lightly, she tactfully didn’t bring up last night. “Nice weather today. Let’s take the quilts out to air.”
“…Mm.” Wenge let out a quiet breath of relief when she didn’t tease him again.
Airing quilts, of course, was Wenge’s job. After breakfast, he tied a rope in the courtyard and began hauling the quilts out one by one to hang in the sun. Feng Lezhen watched him for a while, then picked out a clean wooden stick from the woodshed and began tapping the quilts he had hung.
“What are you doing?” Wenge asked.
Feng Lezhen looked surprised. “You don’t know?”
“Should I?”
“You’re supposed to hit quilts like this when airing them. Don’t tell me you’ve never aired a quilt yourself?”
Wenge replied, “All my needs were attended to. Why would I need to do things like this?”
“By who?” Feng Lezhen asked with a teasing smile.
“Obviously the palace eunuchs.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized she was fishing for information. His eyes turned cold instantly. “I suggest you behave. The more you know, the faster you’ll die.”
“I was just making small talk. Why are you threatening me again?” Feng Lezhen frowned as well.
Wenge gave a cold snort and turned to go inside.
As the door slammed shut behind him, the displeasure on Feng Lezhen’s face vanished completely, as if her irritation moments ago had been nothing but an illusion.
“He’s far too guarded. Can’t get anything out of him,” she muttered with a shake of her head, then went back to beating the quilts.
Although Wenge was very dissatisfied with Feng Lezhen’s occasional attempts to pry information from him, the two of them were living in close quarters—seeing each other day in and day out—so his irritation didn’t last long. After less than half an hour, he pushed it aside and rolled up his sleeves to cook for her.
Lunch was chicken stewed with potatoes, a common and hearty dish in Yingguan, cooked in a wide pan for excellent flavor. After eating radish and cabbage for five days straight, even before Feng Lezhen complained, Wenge had already had enough. So he’d been going out to buy ingredients daily—this morning’s chicken had been bought at the break of dawn from the early market.
After the meal, they went out to sit in the sun. The cold snap from earlier days had passed, and spring finally seemed to have arrived. Each day was warmer than the last, and sitting in the midday sun could now work up a light sweat.
Feng Lezhen laid back lazily and, turning her head, saw Wenge doing the same. She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re starting to act more and more like a local in Yingguan.”
Wenge narrowed his eyes against the sunlight and didn’t reply.
Feng Lezhen was about to say more, but then she noticed a tear in the sleeve of his robe. She thought for a moment, then got up and went inside. Though Wenge kept his eyes closed, he was always aware of her movements. When she went in, he suddenly felt a bit bored—but he didn’t immediately get up to follow.
A short while later, he sensed her crouch down beside him. His eyes flickered open slightly—he wanted to know what she was doing.
But it seemed she wasn’t doing much—just gently took hold of his sleeve. Wenge waited for a long time, but nothing else happened, so he opened his eyes—and saw her with head slightly bowed, sewing his robe.
Even in this cold and barren place, the sunlight was brighter than in the capital. It bathed her in gold, like it had gilded her whole figure. She sat there, eyes downcast, attentively sewing his robe—one stitch after another—each prick seemingly landing right in his heart, but the feeling wasn’t painful. It was something else, something he couldn’t quite name.
Wenge stared at her in a daze, lost for a long time.
Without looking up, Feng Lezhen suddenly asked, “Having the dignified Eldest Princess personally mend your clothes—are you moved?”
Wenge snapped back to himself. He wanted to say not even a little, but the words wouldn’t come. After a long struggle, he only managed to mumble: “How do you even know how to do this?”
“I don’t,” Feng Lezhen replied. “That’s why the stitches are ugly.” As she spoke, she tied a knot in the thread and bit it off.
Wenge followed her fingertip and saw, sure enough, the stitching on his sleeve was crooked and uneven.
…With stitching like that, it was obvious she really didn’t know what she was doing.
“Might as well have used glue,” Feng Lezhen muttered, growing more and more dissatisfied with her own handiwork.
Wenge withdrew his hand. “I think it’s fine.”
“Really?” Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow.
“…Yeah. At least it’s holding together. Can’t expect too much.”
“True. No point aiming too high.” Feng Lezhen chuckled.
Wenge pressed his lips together and looked at his sleeve again. Somehow, those crooked stitches didn’t look so bad anymore.
As he was still studying the sewing job, Feng Lezhen had already gone inside and come back with the cuju ball, kicking it around in the courtyard. Wenge watched her nimble movements, a smile surfacing in his eyes. Suddenly, he stood up and darted in to steal the ball from her feet.
Feng Lezhen gave an amused snort. “I just sewed your clothes, and you’re already repaying kindness with betrayal?”
“So what if I am?” Wenge, having finally gotten the upper hand for once, deliberately juggled the ball to irritate her.
Feng Lezhen narrowed her eyes and lunged. Wenge hadn’t expected her to go for it so directly, and quickly held the ball high above his head. He was already a head taller than her, and with his arms raised, there was no way she could reach it. Furious, she slapped him on the forehead.
Smack!
Unlike Wenge’s gentle slap earlier, Feng Lezhen had used her full strength. Before long, a red mark appeared on Wenge’s forehead. The two stared at each other in silence until Feng Lezhen suddenly turned and ran.
Wenge, furious, hurled the cuju ball at her.
Well, “hurled” was an exaggeration—he hadn’t used any real force and even aimed it off to the side at a nearby stone mill. But unexpectedly, the ball bounced off and hit her lower leg. Caught off guard, Feng Lezhen let out a surprised yelp and toppled to the ground.
Wenge froze, then burst into laughter. “Running? What, not running anymore?”
The person on the ground didn’t move.
Wenge scoffed, “Quit trying to trick me.”
Still no reaction.
Feng Lezhen might show a childish side now and then, but most of the time she was composed and dignified. Even if she fell, she would never just lie there like this. Wenge’s expression shifted. A sense of dread crept in. He rushed over and saw her eyes closed tight, seemingly unconscious.
“Stop joking around—it’s not funny,” Wenge said as he reached to pull her up. But as soon as he touched her, he saw blood slowly seeping from the back of her head.
His face drained of color. Panic took over.
“Your Highness!”
Feng Lezhen woke to darkness. When she groggily opened her eyes, Wenge was at the door seeing the doctor out.
She’d been unconscious all afternoon. Her throat itched with dryness, and when she cleared it, pain immediately shot through the back of her head.
Wenge, halfway through walking the doctor out, heard the noise and rushed back. “You’re awake?”
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a long moment, then asked, “And you are?”
Wenge’s expression shifted. “Don’t mess around.”
“Mess around about what?” Feng Lezhen frowned.
Wenge stared at her in silence, then suddenly turned and bolted out the door. “Doctor!”
Feng Lezhen rubbed her brow and sat quietly on the bed.
The doctor was quickly called back. After taking her pulse, checking her pupils, and asking a barrage of questions, he turned to Wenge and said, “It’s likely a blow to the back of the head. She’s lost her memory.”
“Amnesia?” Wenge’s brows furrowed. “How could this happen?”
“You tell me. Why’d you go and hit someone in the head with a cuju ball?” Evidently, Wenge had already told the doctor everything when he first brought him over.
Feng Lezhen looked up. “So you’re the one who did this to me?”
“…How long will it take to recover?” Wenge ignored her and asked.
The doctor stroked his goat beard. “Hard to say. Some people recover in a day or two, others never do. In any case, avoid upsetting her over the next few days. Try to go along with her, or it could make things worse.”
Wenge looked at Feng Lezhen with a heavy expression. “Got it.”
The doctor nodded and left.
Once he was gone, only the two of them were left in the room again. Wenge looked at Feng Lezhen with suspicion. “Do you really not remember anything?”
“What should I be remembering?” Feng Lezhen countered.
“You’d better not be faking. Otherwise…”
“Otherwise what? You’ll smash my head open again?” Though she claimed memory loss, her sharp tongue was clearly intact.
Wenge was speechless for a moment and awkwardly turned his face away. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I can tell. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought in a doctor.” Feng Lezhen lifted her chin. Her face was pale, but her presence remained undiminished. “So, what’s our relationship?”
Wenge froze, unsure how to answer… If he told her directly they were kidnapper and hostage, would it only make things worse?
As he struggled, Feng Lezhen answered her own question. “Judging by your expression, we’re not siblings… then are we married?”
Wenge: “…”
“Are we?” she pressed.
“…Your medicine is almost done. I’ll go get it.” Without looking back, he fled the room.
Feng Lezhen watched his flustered retreat, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Wenge soon returned with the medicine. The moment Feng Lezhen smelled it, she frowned. Yet at the same time, it felt strangely familiar—like she had smelled it often before, always on someone close.
“Drink it. Then get some rest. Who knows, maybe your memory will come back in a day or two.” Since it was technically his own slap that caused her injury, Wenge’s tone was unusually gentle.
Feng Lezhen glanced at him, then downed the bowl in one go.
“Bitter….”
Just as Feng Lezhen opened her mouth to say something, Wenge stuffed a preserved fruit into it. She frowned as she chewed, then looked at him again.
“Sleep. I’ll come check on you in the morning,” he said.
Feng Lezhen: “You’re not sleeping with me?”
“…I have my own room.” Wenge was helpless.
Feng Lezhen nodded. “I see. A couple in a loveless marriage. No wonder you’d throw a cuju at me.”
Wenge opened his mouth, but remembering the doctor’s warning not to provoke her, he swallowed his words. “Just sleep…”
He left again, and the room fell completely silent.
Feng Lezhen had been unconscious for too long—now she had no sleepiness at all. She laid on her stomach, trying to drag up memories from the empty void of her mind, but nothing surfaced.
It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. After trying for a long time, her head only hurt more. She finally gave up.
The injury was at the back of her head, so she could only sleep face down. But she wasn’t used to sleeping like that, and it took a long time of lying still before she finally managed to fall asleep. The moment she did, a flood of strange and surreal dreams filled her mind.
By the time she clawed her way out of those dreams, it was already noon. She lay quietly in bed for a long time. Whatever unease she’d felt upon first waking the previous day had now completely faded, like the tide going out.
Wenge had been sitting at the table waiting for her. As soon as he saw her eyes open, he came over. “I made congee. Come eat.”
Feng Lezhen looked up at him, seeming like she had something to say.
“What is it? You remembered something?” Wenge leaned in, unable to help asking.
Watching him inch closer, Feng Lezhen asked, “You haven’t told me your name.”
“…Wenge.” Something she already knew, so there was no harm in telling her.
Feng Lezhen: “And me?”
“You don’t even know your own name?” Wenge looked at her strangely.
Expressionless, she said, “I probably knew it before, but after getting hit with the cuju…”
Wenge gave a dry cough. “You’re called… Bell. Little Bell.”
“Oh.” Feng Lezhen nodded.
Wenge had only said it to test her. Seeing that she showed no reaction at all, he didn’t push further.
After they ate, Feng Lezhen sat in the courtyard for a bit, then headed for the front gate. Wenge immediately called out to stop her. “Where are you going?”
“I’m bored. Just going out for a walk,” she replied.
Wenge narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why do you want to go out for a walk?”
“Why not?” she countered.
The two stared each other down for a while. Then Wenge said, “You can’t.”
“Oh, I see. Not only is our marriage cold, but you also restrict my freedom.” Feng Lezhen nodded, seemingly trying to glean as much information as she could from their limited conversation.
Wenge gave her a look. “I don’t care if you’re really amnesiac or faking it—either way, you’re not getting out of that door. Don’t even think about it.”
“Got it.” Feng Lezhen remained calm, gave a brief reply, and returned to her room.
She didn’t come out again all afternoon.
He had gotten used to spending the early afternoons with her, and now that she suddenly stayed in her room, Wenge found the afternoon incredibly long for the first time. After finally making it through, he found himself unable to sleep at night—
Normally, they’d spend the afternoon playing around, burning off all their energy, so he would sleep soundly. But today, they’d done nothing, and he’d even taken a nap out of boredom, so of course he couldn’t sleep that night.
The result of being unable to sleep at night was that he still woke at the usual time the next morning, but now was groggy and low-energy all day. Then in the afternoon, he’d nap again, leading to more insomnia that night.
While things were spiraling downhill for him, Feng Lezhen was sleeping quite well—though she kept dreaming for two or three days straight.
On the fourth morning, just as she stepped outside, she came face to face with Wenge’s dark and brooding gaze.
She paused. “Didn’t sleep well?”
“You still haven’t recovered your memory?” Wenge shot back.
Feng Lezhen crossed her arms. “No. Why?”
“Didn’t the doctor say you’d get it back in a day or two?” Wenge’s brows were drawn so tightly they could squash a fly.
Feng Lezhen snorted lightly. “He also said I might never recover.”
Wenge took a deep breath. “Want to play sandbag this afternoon?”
Feng Lezhen’s eyes moved slightly. “How do you play?”
Seeing that she didn’t reject him outright, Wenge immediately brought over a fist-sized sandbag and started teaching her the rules, explaining them slowly and seriously. Feng Lezhen listened intently and then asked, “Did we usually play like this?”
“…Yeah.”
“Well then, seems like we get along pretty well,” she said as she weighed the sandbag in her hand.
Wenge had no response.
In truth, he still didn’t fully believe her memory loss. After all, it was just a knock on the head with a wound barely the size of a fingernail—how could it erase over twenty years of memories?
But Feng Lezhen acted perfectly normal. He had tested her multiple times, but had never once caught anything suspicious in her expression.
…Forget it. Whether she remembered or not, as long as he stayed as guarded as before, there was no way she could pry any useful information from him.
One of them still had an old wound on his waist, and the other a new one on her head. After only half an hour of play, they stopped and sat side by side in the courtyard to sunbathe.
“I want an apple,” Feng Lezhen murmured.
Wenge’s eyes flickered. “You know what an apple is?”
“…I lost my memory, not my brain. Didn’t you notice I still know how to use chopsticks?” she snapped back.
“Oh, I thought you forgot. So, what do you remember?”
“I remember how to eat, drink, use the toilet, talk, and write. What I’ve forgotten is who I am—and who you are,” Feng Lezhen replied.
Wenge: “Then do you still remember Shen Suifeng and the Shizi of Zhenbian Marquis?”
Feng Lezhen: “Who are they?”
Wenge: “Looks like I’m not the only one you’ve forgotten.”
Feng Lezhen repeated, “Who are they?”
Wenge gave her a glance. “Just some random names I made up.”
“Oh.” Feng Lezhen continued gazing at the clouds.
The two of them passed time together until evening. When Feng Lezhen mentioned again that she wanted to eat an apple, Wenge hesitated a moment but still left the house.
The courtyard was instantly quiet, leaving only Feng Lezhen alone. She silently watched the sun dip lower, everything around her gradually swallowed by the dark. Just as she turned to head inside, a figure suddenly descended from the sky, landing right in front of her.
“Your Highness!” Ah Ye’s eyes were red with emotion. “I’ve finally found you!”
Feng Lezhen looked up at her, her eyes devoid of any reaction.
Ah Ye’s heart dropped. Cautiously, she called again, “…Your Highness?”
Wenge had felt uneasy ever since leaving the house, as if something was about to happen. Before he even reached the market, he couldn’t help turning back.
“I’ll just tell her the market was closed…” he muttered, pushing open the door and raising his voice, “It’s not that I didn’t want to buy it for you, it’s just that—”
“Wenge!”
Feng Lezhen’s face was pale, and she was being gripped by the wrist by another woman. When she saw him return, she immediately broke free and ran toward him.
“Your Highness!” Ah Ye rushed after her.
But it was too late. Wenge flung a hidden weapon and blocked her path. Feng Lezhen took the opportunity to throw herself into his arms without hesitation. He instinctively caught her—then looked up and saw over ten people rushing in behind Ah Ye like dumplings dropping into soup.
“She… she came here and said she was going to take me away…” Feng Lezhen clutched Wenge’s robes tightly, her voice trembling and helpless.
Ah Ye grew frantic at her words. “Your Highness! What’s wrong with you?”
“Who are they?” Feng Lezhen gasped, her breath unsteady, hands still clinging to Wenge’s clothes.
Wenge didn’t have time to comfort her. He pulled out an iron pellet and hurled it at them. Ah Ye recognized it too late—it was the same type of weapon he’d used against them before. When it hit the ground, it triggered a loud explosion.
“Your Highness!” Ah Ye reflexively shielded her face. When the explosion stopped and the smoke cleared, the two figures by the gate had vanished.
“After them! But don’t hurt Her Highness!” she barked, leading the search.
Wenge had only used the iron pellet to stall them. He hadn’t gone far—he took Feng Lezhen straight into the empty neighboring courtyard and jumped into the dry well.
He had memorized the layout of the surrounding properties when he first bought the house. Inside the well was a hidden chamber, likely once used for food storage. Its door was made of stone, matching the well wall perfectly. He had modified it in advance—unless someone knew exactly what to look for, they wouldn’t find the entrance.
Sure enough, shortly after they hid, they heard someone jump into the well and knock all around the stone wall before climbing back out.
Wenge listened intently to the sounds above, one hand still covering Feng Lezhen’s mouth. Only when she protested by hitting him twice did he frown and look at her.
“Stuffy…” she murmured softly.
Wenge realized her face had turned red and quickly let go.
“I’m not that timid. I wouldn’t scream randomly. Why were you covering my mouth?” Feng Lezhen said, displeased.
Wenge hesitated. He knew it wasn’t because she might scream. But just as the thought surfaced, he remembered how she had thrown off the other person without hesitation and ran toward him.
All his carefully cultivated wariness… in that moment, most of it collapsed.
“You… really don’t remember anything?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t, I don’t. How many times do I have to say it?” Feng Lezhen frowned. “Can we go out now?”
“Not yet. They’re definitely still around.” Wenge immediately blocked her.
Feng Lezhen curled her lips and found a spot to sit casually.
The hidden chamber was about the size of a room—not too cramped, just a bit dark. But once Wenge lit a candle, even that problem disappeared.
Candlelight flickered in the chamber, throwing dancing shadows across their faces. Just as Wenge was about to speak, Feng Lezhen suddenly asked, “Who am I really? Why did she call me ‘Your Highness’?”
Wenge fell silent.
“We’re not really husband and wife, are we?” Her brows knit tighter.
Seeing the suspicion in her eyes, Wenge blurted out, “If you’re so doubtful, why didn’t you go with them?”
“That girl cried and laughed the moment she saw me and started saying a bunch of things I couldn’t understand. I got scared,” Feng Lezhen replied calmly.
Wenge: “So you came to me instead?”
“Was I not supposed to?” Feng Lezhen retorted. “At least compared to them, you’ve treated me well.”
“I’ve… treated you well?” Wenge was a little taken aback.
Feng Lezhen: “You feed me, make medicine for me, and even do all the chores. I’d say that counts as treating me well.”
Wenge hadn’t expected such a positive evaluation. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.
“So… who am I, and who are they?” Feng Lezhen asked again.
Wenge looked at her for a long time, then suddenly put on a serious face. “You’re a noble lady from Yingguan City.”
Feng Lezhen’s eyelid twitched.
“And I’m your personal guard. We fell in love, but your family found out. They wanted to drown us in a pond. We escaped, and those people just now were your family’s retainers, trying to drag us back for punishment.” Wenge explained.
Feng Lezhen was silent for a long time after hearing that.
“What? You don’t believe me?” Wenge asked.
“I believe you,” Feng Lezhen said calmly. “That story sounds very familiar—it must be true.”
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