“Afraid?” Jiang Xingzhou reined his horse over until he rode level with Feng Yi.
Over the past two days, she had stopped sharing a horse with him, determined to avoid any close encounters that might spark more trouble. Besides, her riding skills had been honed thoroughly three years earlier, when she had fled all the way down to the southwest.
“Not at all,” Feng Yi turned her head, her eyes curving gently, full of trust. “With you here, why would I be?”
“Mmm.” Jiang Xingzhou reached up and ruffled the top of her hair, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Leave everything to me. There’s nothing to fear.”
Their horses stepped into the long shadow cast by the city gate, and a cool breeze drifted out from the deep archway, fluttering the hem of her robes and the veil covering her face. Feng Yi straightened her back and rode forward with unwavering resolve.
Capital city, I have returned.
Jiang Ji, who had been waiting by the gate, hurried forward and bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Your Grace, and greetings, Miss.”
The title “Miss” was one Jiang Xingzhou had ordered restored after deciding he would marry her properly. He intended to give her a formal wedding, to ensure that one day everyone could call her “Madam” with full legitimacy—not just a vague, ambiguous title that might make others mock her as a “concubine in all but name,” lacking even an official marriage contract.
Jiang Xingzhou gestured for him to rise, and went straight to the most pressing matter. “How is the Crown Prince?”
Jiang Ji glanced instinctively at Feng Yi beside him, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face.
“Speak freely,” Jiang Xingzhou said in a low, steady voice.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Jiang Ji lowered his tone and spoke quickly. “Word came from the palace. The Crown Prince regained consciousness yesterday, but after a joint examination by all the imperial physicians, they concluded…”
He paused, his voice dropping even further. “…His spine has sustained severe damage. From now on, it is likely he will never walk again and will have to rely on a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”
Feng Yi’s heart skipped a beat, and she exchanged a quick glance with Jiang Xingzhou.
Unable to walk meant he could not ascend the throne. In the past, with a clear heir in place, any rivalry among the other princes had remained hidden beneath a calm surface. But now…
It seemed the political landscape in the capital was about to shift dramatically.
Five days earlier, while hunting in the imperial game preserve, the Crown Prince had fallen from his horse. He had struck the back of his head on a rock, knocking him unconscious, and before anyone could pull him to safety, he had been trampled by other horses, breaking his spine.
Jiang Xingzhou’s expression remained unchanged as he asked, “Has the Imperial Guard uncovered anything?”
“Not a single clue has surfaced yet,” Jiang Ji shook his head. “Right now, the entire city is under strict lockdown; everyone is on edge and fearful.”
“Understood.” Jiang Xingzhou nodded, then turned to Feng Yi. “Yi Yi, I must go to the palace immediately. Return to the estate first and wait for me there.”
“Very well,” Feng Yi nodded. “Take care of yourself.”
They were now bound together—sink or swim, rise or fall, their fortunes were one and the same. She could not afford anything to happen to him.
“Have no worries,” Jiang Xingzhou felt a surge of warmth in his chest. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “If anyone in the house dares to give you trouble, do not hold back. No matter who it is, you may strike back as you please…”
A soft tenderness mingled with sharp resolve flashed in his eyes as he added, “If anything goes wrong, I will take full responsibility.”
Back at the Jing’an Marquis Estate, reactions to Feng Yi’s return varied widely.
Wu Rong, the second steward, personally came out to the main gate to greet her. As she dismounted, he stepped forward with a broad smile. “Miss, welcome home.”
Feng Yi smiled back at him. “Thank you for coming out to meet me, Steward Wu. You’ve gone to much trouble.”
“I dare not accept such respect from you,” Steward Wu replied, his smile turning far more sincere. Jiang Xingzhou had already sent word ahead: from this day forward, Feng Yi was to be treated as the rightful mistress of the household and shown the same deference as the Marquis himself.
He turned to the two maids standing behind him. “Come forward and pay your respects to Miss.”
The two young maids bowed politely, yet their courtesy lacked true respect. “Greetings, Cousin Miss.”
Cousin Miss? Feng Yi kept her expression calm as she smiled and bade them rise, then turned to Steward Wu. “And these are?”
Steward Wu’s heart sank. He had chosen what he thought were the most capable girls in the house, but he had forgotten that such people often held too much pride. These two clearly had no sense of judgment. Did they not realize that the Marquis himself had traveled thousands of miles to bring her back? How dare they treat her with such indifference?
He had already instructed them to call her simply “Miss,” yet they still addressed her as if she were only a guest.
Very well—they clearly did not have the good sense to know where their best interests lay. It would be better to select new attendants quickly, lest the Marquis grew displeased.
“Your Grace personally ordered that suitable maids be found to wait on you,” he said, no longer softening his words. “These are the best I could choose. You may try them out; if they do not suit, they can be replaced at once.”
He pointed to the plump-faced girl in green. “This is Liu Zhu. She is skilled in many tasks.”
Then he indicated the sharper-featured girl in blue beside her. “And this is Liu Yun. She is trained in martial arts.”
“Are they from the household staff?” Feng Yi asked.
“From one of the Marquis’s private estates,” Steward Wu replied.
Feng Yi understood at once—these were people loyal only to Jiang Xingzhou. He owned a remote estate left to him by his birth mother, which served as a training ground for his most trusted followers. Among them were also female attendants and guards, some acting as spies, others prepared to serve in his household.
It seemed no one truly believed he would ever make her his official wife. These two probably assumed they would one day serve the true lady of the house, so looking down on her felt only natural to them.
“May Miss grant us new names?” Liu Zhu and Liu Yun asked in unison.
“There is no need to change them. Your names are fine as they are,” Feng Yi said with a faint smile. She had no wish to keep those whose loyalty lay elsewhere.
“You must be weary from the journey,” Steward Wu said. “I have already ordered a meal prepared for you.”
“Thank you, Uncle Wu.”
Feng Yi was assigned to stay in the Rose Pavilion, just as before.
The roses there were still in full bloom, rich and vivid in color. The screens around the open pavilion had been replaced with fresh silk, though it was still the same pale tea-white shade she had chosen years ago. The golden carp in the stream seemed to have grown plumper—fat enough to make a fine meal if cooked. The small private kitchen she had once had built stood open, with all its furnishings exactly as she remembered…
The place remained unchanged; the people were still the same. Only the feelings between them were different now.
So many memories lingered here, enough to leave Feng Yi feeling tangled and unsettled.
She sank slowly into the warm bathwater, letting it rise all the way up to her chin. The faint stinging soreness between her thighs from riding, and the temporary breathlessness as she held herself submerged, served as a sharp reminder:
Feng Yi, stay clear-headed. Do not let yourself fall for him all over again.
Liu Zhu was indeed skilled with her hands; she arranged Feng Yi’s hair into a neat, elegant style with ease.
Once finished, she reached over to the dressing table, picked up a set of ruby hair ornaments, and moved to fasten them into Feng Yi’s hair of her own accord. A faint, cold smirk touched Feng Yi’s lips. The last maid who had dared to act as if she knew what was best for her had been Cui Yu—and look where that had led…
She turned her head slightly, avoiding Liu Zhu’s hands, and pointed instead to a simpler set of pearl pins and earrings. “Use these.”
“Miss, these rubies would bring out the glow of your complexion much better,” Liu Zhu argued gently, still reaching for them.
“Are you so eager to shorten your master’s life?” Feng Yi asked calmly. “The Crown Prince lies gravely injured in his bed, and his household returns while the city is still in unrest—would it be fitting for his women to dress so brightly and ostentatiously?”
In truth, it was not such a serious matter; unless someone chose to make an issue of it, no official would raise an accusation. But she resented anyone trying to dictate what she should or should not do—including Jiang Xingzhou himself.
Liu Zhu dropped to her knees instantly. Though she thought Feng Yi was blowing things out of proportion, she also knew the situation was delicate. “Please forgive me, Cousin Miss. I did not think things through properly, but I swear I never intended to cause harm to His Grace.”
“Rise,” Feng Yi said softly. “I know you meant no ill. But these are unusual times, so it is better to be cautious in all we do. We must not bring trouble upon the Marquis.”
She did not take it upon herself to punish Liu Zhu. If there was to be discipline, Jiang Xingzhou would handle it himself when he returned.
After lunch, Feng Yi brought Liu Zhu and Liu Yun with her to the main courtyard, Dawn’s Radiance Hall, to pay her respects to the Dowager Lady Daqin.
By custom, since Jiang Xingzhou had inherited the title of Marquis, his father, the late Marquis Jiang Shaoguang, and the Dowager Lady Daqin should have vacated the main residence. Yet Jiang Shaoguang had stubbornly refused, as if clinging to the house itself would prove he still held authority over the estate.
Jiang Xingzhou did not press the issue. It was only a building—wherever he lived was the true main residence, so long as he held real power. Besides, his own quarters, the Light-Gathering Garden, were filled with so many memories of Feng Yi that he had no wish to leave. During those three years when everyone believed her dead, it was those memories that had helped him fall asleep each night.
The layout of the main courtyard had not changed much, though the camellia tree the Dowager Lady had always favored was gone for some reason. In one corner, Cui Yu knelt sweeping fallen leaves; her hands, once soft and smooth, now looked rough and chapped.
As Feng Yi entered, all the servants bowed and called out, “Greetings, Cousin Miss.”
The chief matron attending the Dowager Lady hurried forward with exaggerated warmth. “Cousin Miss, you are finally here! Please come in—the Old Mistress has been asking after you constantly.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. “My dear girl… you have suffered so much all these years.”
“Thank you for your concern, Matron Sun,” Feng Yi replied with a polite smile. “I have managed well enough.”
As soon as she stepped into the main reception hall, the middle-aged woman seated at the head of the room—clad in a dark green satin robe embroidered with round floral patterns—hurried down the steps with tears streaming down her face. She clasped Feng Yi’s hands tightly, and aunt and niece fell into each other’s arms, weeping loudly.
“Mian Mian, my poor child… how you have suffered.”
“You look thinner, Aunt… it is all my fault for being so unfilial.”
“Old Mistress, Cousin Miss has returned safe and sound—that is a joyous occasion!” Matron Sun urged gently. “Please do not cry so.”
The four personal maids attending the Dowager Lady also gathered around, weeping and offering words of comfort. For a moment, the hall was filled with the touching scene of loving kinship and devoted service.
After some time, the dramatic display of emotion finally came to an end. Feng Yi breathed a quiet sigh of relief—this was truly a test of acting skill. If she ever had the chance to return to the modern world, she could probably make a fortune in the entertainment industry; with this level of performance, she would easily outshine all those popular but shallow celebrities.
The Dowager Lady drew her close and seated her beside her. “My dear child, if you were safe and well all this time, why did you not send even a single word to let us know?”
“It was my failing to cause you such worry, Aunt,” Feng Yi replied in a sweet, gentle tone. “Please forgive me. It was not that I wished to remain silent, but when I fell from the cliff, I struck my head and lost all memory of my past. Only in recent days have my memories slowly begun to return.”
“How dreadful!” The Dowager Lady exclaimed, her face filled with apparent concern. “And are you fully recovered now? If you feel any lingering weakness, we shall have the Marquis summon an imperial physician to examine you—we must ensure no illness remains.”
Feng Yi smiled inwardly. She suspected a medical examination was not really about her health at all; the true aim was likely to confirm whether she was still untouched and to gauge what use she might still be to them.
“Thank you for your care, Aunt,” she said aloud. “The wife and father-in-law of my adopted brother are both skilled healers, and under their care, my health has been fully restored these past years.”
“Adopted brother?” The Dowager Lady frowned in confusion.
“He is the one who saved my life,” Feng Yi explained. “When I fell down into the ravine, I was half-conscious, clinging to a piece of driftwood and carried along by the current. By great fortune, my brother Feng Qingyang and his wife He Yun found and rescued me. Since I could not recall my own name, only the faint sound of the surname Feng, his wife thought it must be fate, and so they took me in as a younger sister. Later, I traveled with them to the southwest and have lived there with them ever since.”
“Blessed be heaven,” the Dowager Lady pressed her palms together. “Truly a miracle amid disaster.” She then asked, “But if your adopted brother and his wife live in the southwest, what brings them all the way to the outskirts of the capital?”
“It is quite a coincidence,” Feng Yi replied. “My sister-in-law has an aunt who married and settled in Taiping County. When the couple wed, that aunt sent neither congratulations nor any word at all. Now that my sister-in-law’s father has fallen gravely ill, he was anxious to know how his sister fared, so he sent the two of them north to visit. Yet when they arrived, they found the aunt’s family had moved away long ago, with no trace of where they went.”
This was the story she and Jiang Xingzhou had agreed upon. It was somewhat clumsy and full of gaps, but as long as Jiang Xingzhou insisted it was the truth, who would dare question it too deeply?
“Truly heaven has watched over you,” the Dowager Lady patted her hand gently. “Our Mian Mian is indeed blessed with great fortune.”
Then her tone shifted, though remaining soft and concerned. “Still, even if your sister-in-law knows medicine, she cannot compare to the skill of the imperial physicians. Let us have one come and take your pulse just to be certain, so that I may rest easy.”
“Very well,” Feng Yi nodded obediently. “I shall do as Aunt wishes.”
“Feng Yi?”
Feng Yi let a shy expression cross her face, her voice soft and demure. “Cousin says that since my life is beginning anew, I should take a new given name as well.”
“Your cousin is right,” the Dowager Lady said—she would never disagree with anything Jiang Xingzhou decided. “He does dote on you, that is certain.”
“Aunt…” Feng Yi lowered her head, her cheeks flushing bright red, looking every bit the blushing, bashful young woman.
But even before Jiang Xingzhou returned to the estate, Imperial Physician Zhou—who specialized in women’s health—had already arrived.
They did not even bother to pretend it was not prearranged, Feng Yi thought with a quiet smile.
She calmly extended her wrist. She trusted that Jiang Xingzhou would have already considered and prepared for this very situation.
Physician Zhou placed a silk cloth between his fingers and her skin, then felt her pulse carefully. He was indeed highly skilled; before long, he detected the effects of what had happened three years earlier. His fingers paused briefly, mentally calculating the time that had passed, and deduced the truth of the matter. Remembering how Jiang Xingzhou had behaved back then, wild with grief and rage, he sighed at the strange twists of fate.
He asked, “Is your monthly cycle still somewhat irregular, Miss?”
“It has not yet returned to a steady pattern,” Feng Yi replied with a small smile.
“Physician Zhou, is she in good health?” the Dowager Lady pressed anxiously.
“Miss suffers no serious illness,” Physician Zhou said, withdrawing his hand and bowing respectfully. “However, three years ago in winter, she was exposed to freezing water for a long time, causing cold damage to her body. This has led to the irregularity of her cycle. I shall prescribe a few herbal remedies, and with time and care, balance can be restored.”
“Then we shall trouble you for a prescription,” the Dowager Lady said. “Matron Sun, please take Physician Zhou to the study to write it out.”
As soon as they left, the Dowager Lady turned back to Feng Yi, her expression visibly relaxing. “That is a great relief. Nothing to worry about now.”
“Aunt, I believe this is usually the time you take your afternoon rest,” Feng Yi said, rising tactfully. “I shall not disturb you further.”
“What a thoughtful child you are,” the Dowager Lady replied, clearly weary of putting on her own act. “You must be exhausted from your travels. Go and rest well.”
Shortly after Feng Yi left Dawn’s Radiance Hall, Matron Sun hurried back into the room.
“Well?” The Dowager Lady set down her teacup, her voice growing sharp and serious.
“She remains untouched and pure.”
“Then she is… fortunate indeed.” It was impossible to tell if she spoke with relief or disappointment.
Jiang Xingzhou did not return to the estate until nearly midnight.
He did not go to his own quarters in the Light-Gathering Garden, but headed straight for the Rose Pavilion.
The night breeze was cool and soft, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of roses. Dim lanterns hanging along the walkway swayed gently in the wind, as if waiting quietly for his return.
A warm feeling spread through his chest, washing away all the fatigue of the long day.
He strode quickly across the courtyard, bounded up the steps, and pushed open the door.
Liu Zhu and Liu Yun, who were on duty in the outer chamber, bowed immediately. “Greetings, Your Grace.”
“Where is she?”
“Cousin Miss is in the small study.”
“Cousin Miss?” Jiang Xingzhou’s brows drew together sharply. The air around him turned cold and imposing in an instant. “Send Steward Wu to me at once.”