I’m not going back, Feng Yi’s answer remained firm in refusal. There are people here who need me more.
Need you more… Jiang Xingzhou murmured, turning the words over and over in his mind.
She would abandon him—for ordinary townsfolk, for that mother and daughter, and for some other man in the future.
He stumbled back two steps and let out a low laugh. It started deep in his throat, then grew louder and louder until he threw his head back and laughed wildly, the hollow sound echoing through the small private room.
Feng Yi, you stepped into my darkness, showed me light, wrapped me in warmth, and made me feel like a real person again. Now you have had your fun, grown bored, and want to walk away without a care, leaving me to sink back into endless night.
How could you be so cruel? How dare you?
Were those worthless people putting ideas into your head? Yes, that must be it. Once I have dealt with them one by one, you will fall back into line—won’t you?
Jiang Xingzhou… Seeing his deranged expression, Feng Yi swallowed hard and took small steps backward.
Afraid? He stepped forward and cupped her face, his smile unnaturally gentle. His blood left red smudges on her cheek, and he quickly raised his pale white silk sleeve to wipe it away with great care. You know I would never hurt you. Don’t be afraid, not at all.
My Mianmian, you are such a fine teacher, such a good partner, such a caring guardian, and such a loyal friend. He wiped the blood from her face and brushed stray locks of hair behind her ear. But when it comes to me… you are utterly heartless.
Very well then, since I am the one who loves you. He curved his lips into a faint smile. Before I leave, will you stay and watch a display of fireworks with me?
Without waiting for her reply, he took her hand and pulled her downstairs.
North of the town stood the six-story Fengyang Academy Tower, built to improve the town’s fortune and energy flow. Usually only an elderly woman came to clean it every three days. Only on major festivals or when important announcements were made did the townspeople gather there.
Jiang Xingzhou led Feng Yi to the base of the tower, took a bow and quiver from Qing Shan, and said only, Stand guard. Then he pulled her up the stone steps.
From the sixth floor, one could look down and see the whole of Ruyi Town spread out below.
Where are the fireworks? Feng Yi asked warily.
The moonlight cast his features in half shadow and half silver glow, making him seem mysterious and unreadable.
Patience, he said, his smile taking on a sinister edge in the dim light. I will set them off just for you.
He blew on a flint to light the small oil lamp on the wooden table. Drawing an arrow, he ran its tip through the flame. The shaft, soaked in oil, burst instantly into bright fire.
He nocked the arrow and drew the bowstring taut, aiming directly east at Fengyang Academy.
Stop! Feng Yi’s eyes went wide in alarm.
Did I frighten you? Jiang Xingzhou slowly turned the bow toward the wide, empty square to the west. Just teasing you.
Feng Yi let out a breath, her tense shoulders relaxing. Thank goodness, he wasn’t truly mad. There were no buildings over there—he must have arranged the fireworks there after all.
Seeing the relief in her eyes, Jiang Xingzhou suddenly broke into a wicked grin. In one swift motion, he turned the bow back to its original direction and released the string.
Whzzz—
The flaming arrow tore through the night sky and flew true.
No—!
Feng Yi rushed to the window just in time to see it strike the wooden frame of her study. Flames instantly licked up the thin paper covering the window.
Her eyes flared red. She spun around to face him, her voice trembling with rage. What exactly do you intend to do?
Guess, he said calmly, still smiling, as he slowly nocked another arrow and passed its tip through the flame.
You cannot do this! Feng Yi spread her arms wide, blocking the window. You must not, Jiang Xingzhou.
Silly girl, he said, his tone almost indulgent. Had she forgotten this was an octagonal tower—there was more than one window facing east.
Before the words had fully left his mouth, he walked to another window, drew the bowstring right in front of her, and released a second flaming arrow.
Feng Yi turned quickly to call out for help, but his soft warning came from behind her. Mianmian, I would advise you not to shout. If you startle me, I cannot guarantee my aim will stay true—these arrows might land on people instead.
Her words died in her throat. She could only watch helplessly as he shot a third, a fourth…
One struck the dining hall, another the classrooms, then the covered walkway, the donkey shed…
When the quiver was finally empty, Jiang Xingzhou set down the bow, blew out the lamp, and sauntered over to where she stood trembling by the window. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he asked with feigned concern, Why are you shaking so badly? Are you cold?
He took her clenched fist in his hand and raised it toward the growing blaze outside. Lean closer to the fire, he whispered against her ear. The warmth will chase the chill away.
Feng Yi stared, transfixed, the brightness of the flames searing her eyes.
It felt as if she could see every detail: the unfinished assignments on her desk curling in the heat, as if trying to escape but finding no way out; the copy of The Great Learning belonging to Ji Yinghe, still in its box, its pages fluttering rapidly as if struggling to remain whole; she could almost smell the yams Aunt Zhang had left in the kitchen, roasting and charring; the paintings the old scholar and the children had made together in the walkway fading, their colors melting away…
She thought she would cry, but the heat of the fire dried her tears before they could fall.
Fire!
Help!
Shouts, cries, running footsteps, and the clatter of buckets rang out one after another as people spotted the flames. Townsfolk came rushing from all directions, turning the street into chaos.
Wen Qing arrived quickly, taking charge to restore order and direct the fire-fighting efforts. The elderly town chief, over seventy years old, hurried over without even having time to put on his full robes.
It’s too big…
That is the children’s school…
Who in heaven’s name would do such a thing…
May whoever did this rot in hell…
Feng Yi’s lips stretched into a silent, bitter smile. Wasn’t it exactly the kind of devilish act only someone like him would commit?
Mianmian, did you enjoy the fireworks? Jiang Xingzhou held her rigid body close, speaking as if they were chatting casually. Have you ever read the Great Zhou Legal Code? What do you suppose the punishment is for allowing a woman to sit for the imperial examinations and falsifying her identity?
And He Yun—she is not only fair-looking but also skilled in medicine. How would it be if I appointed her as an army physician? I will make sure she receives very special attention.
And that little girl—young ladies should learn proper talents and skills. The Imperial Music Bureau would be a fitting place for her, don’t you think?
Oh, I almost forgot—there is also Yue Ming. When you ran away three years ago, did she not help you? He leaned down and pinched her nose playfully. You have always been such a naughty girl.
He lowered his head to her shoulder, licking the skin along the side of her neck. The ointment she used to alter her complexion tasted bitter, but he did not care, running his tongue wetly over it again and again.
Feng Yi thought blankly, he should have mixed arsenic into that ointment.
He took her pearl-like earlobe into his mouth, licking, nipping, and sucking, his breathing growing heavier and more unrestrained. When his tongue traced the curve of her ear, he whispered in a husky, coaxing tone, Mianmian, come back with me—or stay here—I will respect whatever choice you make.
Choice? Did she truly have a choice? He had made it clear enough—the fire was only the beginning.
Feng Yi gently pushed the window shut and turned around. She removed her scholar’s cap and undid the ribbons holding her hair, letting it fall loose like spilled ink.
She raised her slender arms, wrapped them around his neck, and looked up with eyes like apricots curved into a smile, dimples deep and sweet enough to make one’s heart ache. I will go back with you.
The answer he had expected—yet it still brought a mix of joy and bitterness. In the end, she was only agreeing to leave for the sake of others.
Feng Yi rose onto her toes, her soft red lips brushing close to his face, her breath carrying the scent of wine. From now on… I beg Cousin to… be gentle with me…
Before finishing, she pressed her mouth to his, tracing the shape of his lips just as he had done so many times before.
Jiang Xingzhou’s pupils instantly narrowed. His arm tightened around her waist, ready to take back control.
Feng Yi pulled back slightly, her brow furrowing in a playful pout. Stay still. Be good.
His eyebrow lifted in surprise. Did she mean to take charge? That was his woman—always so bold and capable!
His body reacted instantly to the excitement, but he suppressed his instinct to dominate and instead leaned down to let her do as she pleased.
Feng Yi kissed him deeply, exchanging breath and warmth, claiming and marking him as her own.
Her hands slowly slid down to his waist. Fingers fumbled open the gold-inlaid jade clasp of his belt. The belt fell away, and his robes loosened. She hooked her fingers into the layers of fabric, peeling them off one by one to reveal his strong, well-defined chest.
Her cool fingertips traced slow, circling paths over his burning skin. Every light brush of her nails sent ripples of sensation through him.
Jiang Xingzhou’s breathing grew heavier and rougher. Several times he almost took over, but each time he held himself back.
Her fingers reached the final tie at his waist. He did not stop her, only asking hoarsely, Are you certain you want this here?
Feng Yi answered with action, pulling the cord free and releasing what had been confined.
Lie down, she commanded softly.
Jiang Xingzhou did as told, sitting back against the wooden floor with his robe still half draped over him, propped up on his elbows. His eyes shone with a mix of desire and indulgence.
Feng Yi looked down at him. She had always known that in terms of appearance alone, Jiang Xingzhou was nearly perfect—his striking features, his well-proportioned frame, and all the rest about him was nothing short of impressive.
In the mix of moonlight and firelight, his skin glowed faintly pink, making him look like a captivating fox spirit.
She slowly untied the cords of her own clothing. When only the binding that concealed her true form remained, she paused briefly, then smiled faintly and undid it, letting it fall to the floor.
Stepping barefoot over the discarded garments, she walked toward him.
The night wind lifted her hair and the hem of her open robe, making her look like a deity or a demon—neither wholly good nor wholly evil.
His gaze burned so intensely it felt as if it could sear right through her. His chest heaved, veins throbbing visibly beneath his skin.
Feng Yi straddled his hips, resting her hands on his shoulders, and slowly lowered herself down.
Jiang Xingzhou, I have already given up my system missions, given up any hope of returning to my own time. Whether in the modern world or in Great Zhou, all I ever wanted was to live freely and be true to myself. Why must you force me like this? Why?
She lifted her head, her eyes blazing with determination and possession.
If this is how it must be… then I will consume you whole. Do you understand?
Stop, Mianmian. Jiang Xingzhou felt a sudden, unexplainable sense of alarm and called out sharply. You will hurt yourself—stop.
Something was wrong. She was always like a gentle stream, even just the day before. But now she felt as dry and barren as a desert.
A wave of overwhelming panic washed over him. She was pressed so close to him, yet she felt further away than ever.
Feng Yi acted as if she did not hear him. She smiled brightly and sank down fully. A faint metallic sweetness filled the air.
Pain.
Agonizing pain.
Tears formed in her eyes from the physical strain, yet her smile only grew brighter.
See? You are powerful and proud, but I have taken you into myself—even if it costs me blood and pain.
Mianmian, does it hurt? Jiang Xingzhou felt the sharp ache as well, but his concern for her was far greater. Hold still for a moment, my love. Rest.
He lifted his hand to wipe away her tears, but she turned her head away.
Be quiet! Feng Yi raised her hands and clamped them firmly around his throat, forcing him to lean back.
Mmm… Jiang Xingzhou let out a soft, throaty sound, his eyes half-lidded, long hair spilling around him, looking both seductive and enthralling.
Beneath her palms, his Adam’s apple moved roughly, and the strong pulse of his arteries throbbed wildly. It felt as if she could end his life with just a little more pressure.
The feeling of holding someone’s life in her hands made her feel sick, yet it also stirred a strange, intoxicating excitement.
She realized then that she and Jiang Xingzhou were probably cut from the same cloth—only that would explain why they were bound in such a twisted way. After all, she herself had once written a story about a madman who shared his name. Anyone capable of creating such a character could hardly be called a good person either.
Slowly, she tightened her fingers…
The air in his lungs was squeezed out little by little, and the sensation of suffocation set in. Yet Jiang Xingzhou did not resist or pull away—he simply endured it.
He knew he had gone too far and driven her to this rage and hatred. But he did not regret it. If this was what it took to keep her from leaving him, then every act was worth it.
Once she had let all her anger out, he would hold her and soothe her, and she would surely let go of her grievances. After all, his Mianmian had always been soft-hearted.
As his breathing grew shallower and more rapid, Feng Yi felt the strange emptiness inside her finally fade.
She loosened her grip, then tightened again, repeating the motion in rhythm. Her hips moved in time with her hands, over and over.
The overwhelming tide of sensation washed over her nerves, and within moments her strength gave out, and she collapsed against his chest.
Jiang Xingzhou wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back gently, his voice rough but tender. Let me take over now?
Mm, she whispered softly. Don’t make me lie on the floor… it’s too hard.
Jiang Xingzhou chuckled softly. So this woman was using him as a cushion.
He lifted her up and pressed her back against the central pillar of the tower. His broad palm covered the rough wood between her body and the pillar to protect her skin from abrasion.
Linyuan.
Yes?
Find a reliable teacher to take over the academy, will you?
Very well.
Linyuan, do not hurt He Yun or Yangyang.
I promise.
And do not make things difficult for Yue Ming.
Agreed.
Anything else? He asked, his throat tight with a fresh surge of bitterness—she was still only thinking of everyone else but him.
From where she stood, Feng Yi could see the fire through the crack in the window. More than three-quarters of an hour had passed since it started, and now the roof beams and rafters collapsed with a deafening crash, sending embers flying everywhere.
Her eyes turned red, and she suddenly bit down hard on his shoulder, her whole body tensing.
Jiang Xingzhou closed his eyes and let her do it. Knowing how much pain she was in, he did not drag it out longer than necessary, and finished quickly while she still held on.
Only when the taste of iron filled her mouth did she let go, glaring at him with fierce words. Jiang Xingzhou—you forced me to come back with you. If you ever touch another woman, I will kill you myself!
Her jealousy made him smile with deep satisfaction. There will be no one else. Mianmian, this body of mine only answers to you. Without you, I am no longer whole.
Jiang Xingzhou cleaned them both simply, then threw off his outer robe and used it to wipe away every trace of what had happened on the floor. Only then did he pick up the bow, hold her close, and carry her down the tower steps.
Linyuan.
Yes?
Let us hold a funeral for Feng Qingyang, won’t you?