Feng Suige lounged carelessly in his chair, his tone laced with lazy arrogance.
“Captain Fu, if you ever change your mind, do let me know.”
Another woman leaned closer, lips curving into a mocking smile.
“Your Highness, it would be such a shame to ruin a beauty like her.”
Feng Suige’s eyes narrowed, cold light glinting beneath his lashes.
“What suggestion does Mei Yi have?”
A spark of malice flashed across Mei Yi’s face.
“Why not send her to the Su Sha Army’s Red Tent—”
The sharp crack of a slap cut her words short. She stumbled backward, clutching her face.
Feng Suige watched her coldly.
“Since you’re so considerate, I’ll grant your wish. Go—serve the soldiers yourself.”
Terror washed over Mei Yi. She fell to her knees.
“Your Highness, forgive me! I was wrong!”
But Feng Suige didn’t so much as blink. He gestured toward the guards.
“Take her where she belongs.”
Her desperate cries faded into the distance. Turning, Feng Suige caught Yi Xiao’s amused gaze. His brows furrowed.
“What? You find this entertaining?”
Yi Xiao smiled lightly.
“You treat a former lover like this, and feel no remorse?”
He crossed the distance in a few strides, fingers gripping her chin with cruel strength.
“Perhaps I should take her advice instead. What do you think?”
Pain flickered in Yi Xiao’s eyes, but her voice remained steady.
“Do I even have the right to negotiate in your hands?”
Feng Suige released her with a cold laugh.
“You still think I can’t break you?”
Yi Xiao tilted her head, calm as ever.
“And how would you do it? Whipping? Torture? I know one hundred and eight methods myself, from the Jin Xiu Army. Want me to recommend a few? Or would you prefer your guards to violate me—would that satisfy you more?”
Feng Suige’s composure cracked.
“You… are you even a woman?” he shouted, his voice trembling between rage and disbelief.
Yi Xiao only smiled, eyes glinting like unsheathed steel. Their gazes locked—sharp, unyielding, filled with invisible sparks of defiance.
Finally, Feng Suige tore his eyes away, his voice low and harsh.
“I’ll return tomorrow. By then, Captain Fu, I expect an answer that pleases me.”
With that, he stormed out.
Xia Jingshi sat surrounded by piles of documents, his brow furrowed. Xiao Weiran stood silently nearby.
“No record of an inn stay, no hired carriage, no exit from the city,” Xia Jingshi muttered. “Has Yi Xiao vanished into thin air?”
Xiao Weiran hesitated. “Should we investigate the merchant caravans that recently departed, Your Highness?”
“You mean she might have left that way?”
“I suspect something else,” Xiao Weiran said quietly. “This kind of disappearance… doesn’t feel right.”
“Then do it,” Xia Jingshi ordered. “And tell Ning Fei to keep watch on Ling Xueying. We can’t afford another mishap.”
Leaning back, he rubbed his temples, weariness shadowing his expression.
Xueying sat by her qin, plucking at the strings restlessly. Yi Xiao’s disappearance gnawed at her. The woman’s fine clothes and calm demeanor ruled out abduction by traffickers. But if not that—then what?
Could she have left in despair again?
The thought chilled her. She plucked a string too hard; the sharp twang shattered the silence.
Startled, Ning Fei blinked awake from where he’d been leaning against the wall.
“Hey—where are you going?” he called as Xueying brushed past him.
“To find Yi Xiao,” she snapped. “Unlike you, who only talks about searching but sleeps all day!”
“I’ve been turning the city upside down for days!” Ning Fei groaned. “Can’t I rest for a moment?”
“But what if she’s hurt—or worse…” Tears welled in Xueying’s eyes. “What if she tries to end her life again?”
“Don’t speak such nonsense,” Ning Fei said sharply. “Yi Xiao’s stronger than that.”
“Stronger? You call vanishing into danger strength?” she shot back, voice trembling. “If anything happens to her, it’s all Prince Zhen Nan’s fault—and yours!”
Before she could say more, Ning Fei clamped a hand over her mouth. “Stop talking about death!”
Then he froze—her tears dampened his palm. He pulled back quickly, staring at his hand as if burned.
“You’re crying?”
Xueying turned away, wiping her face.
Awkwardly, Ning Fei reached out, grabbing her hand and pressing it against his chest. “Fine, hit me if you’re angry. Just stop crying.”
“Let go, or I’ll scream assault!” she shouted, jerking her hand free. She stumbled, yelping as she fell.
Ning Fei caught her halfway and couldn’t help a short laugh. “Not my fault—you told me to let go.”
She glared, kicked him squarely in the shin, and took off running.
Hopping in pain, he shouted after her, “You wild woman! Even Yi Xiao’s more ladylike than you! Don’t you dare run off again—hey!”
In her cell, Yi Xiao listened to the slow drip of the clepsydra. Each drop echoed in her chest. Her limbs were numb beneath the iron shackles. She exhaled softly, forcing her mind away from the pain.
Night fell, cold and heavy. Dressed only in thin indoor clothes, she trembled. Everything she owned was lost to Feng Suige’s abduction.
She laughed bitterly. What prisoner ever worried about comfort?
Feng Suige’s questions echoed in her mind. Did he truly suspect Jin Xiu of plotting against Su Sha?
Perhaps he did. After all, who would believe a woman risked her life only to stop her beloved from marrying another? Even she found it hard to believe.
Your Highness… is Yi Xiao deluding herself—or are you?
A mocking voice came from the doorway.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Yi Xiao raised her head. Feng Suige stood there, black eyes glimmering like obsidian.
She lowered her lashes. “Has dawn come already?”
He gritted his teeth. “This is my domain. I come and go as I please! Enjoy the cold night, Captain Fu.” He tossed a blanket onto the floor and left in anger.
Yi Xiao’s eyes followed him, then the open cell door. She shouted after him, “Feng Suige, you fool! Even if you won’t give me warmth, at least close the door!”
Behind the golden brocade curtains of the Seven Treasures Pavilion, fragrant smoke curled from a Pi Xiu incense burner.
Feng Suige reclined against silk cushions, listening to his spy’s report.
Fu Yi Xiao rarely returned home, the servant said. After her mother’s death, her visits grew even rarer—perhaps once every few years. If not for Prince Zhen Nan’s regular rewards, her family might have forgotten her entirely.
When the spy departed, Feng Suige cracked his knuckles.
Years ago, Su Sha’s victories had been crushed again and again by Prince Zhen Nan’s cunning. Even now, Feng Suige dreaded that strategist from Jin Xiu—the God of War.
Though peace had been signed, the arranged marriage between Prince Zhen Nan and Princess Xi Yang remained unfulfilled. The Su Sha court could not ask why. Illness, they said—but was it true?
So, he had chosen another path: Fu Yi Xiao.
If Prince Zhen Nan truly valued her, how would he react when he learned she had fallen into Feng Suige’s hands?
The door creaked open. Yun Yi slipped inside, draped in silk.
“Your Highness, it’s cold outside,” she murmured, climbing onto the couch. “Why not rest?”
Feng Suige glanced at her. “Cold, you say?”
Her smile deepened. “Once Your Highness joins me, Yun Yi will feel warm again.”
He chuckled faintly. “Let her suffer a little. It will be good for her.”
Yun Yi frowned. “Who are you talking about, Your Highness?”
Feng Suige’s smile turned thin. “No one of importance.”
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