Feng Jingce noticed the corner of Feng Xi’s mouth twitching and immediately realized that the pill she had given earlier must have been tampered with. After confirming that her pulse was normal, he felt slightly relieved.
He leaned close to her ear to warn her.
“Xi’er, you need to restrain yourself. If this escalates, even I might not be able to handle it.”
Feng Xi frowned at his words, clearly displeased.
“Feng Jingce, have you lost your mind? I’ve already said it: I have no mother, no brother. Whatever your intentions, don’t meddle in my affairs!”
She broke free from Feng Jingce’s hold and stomped on his foot.
Though Feng Jingce felt a sharp pain, a trace of indulgence flashed in his eyes, and he sighed helplessly.
“Xi’er really is something else,” he murmured.
Feng Xi ignored him, turning her attention back to Cang Mochen’s reaction.
As the agitation within his body subsided, Cang Mochen realized what had happened. He had been hovering on the brink of death, yet Feng Xi’s pill had indeed healed his internal injuries.
However, the medicine’s effects were aggressive; it had some other unknown property, making his blood surge and causing sensations reminiscent of the aphrodisiac he had initially taken.
He realized he had been outmaneuvered by Feng Xi.
Gritting his teeth, a mix of anger and humiliation surged within him, but he held back and decided to take a step back.
“This is truly a misunderstanding. I didn’t get the facts straight. Thank you, Miss Feng, for saving me,” he said through gritted teeth, controlling his impulses as he turned to leave.
Qiao Ju, seeing this, didn’t dare overthink and hurried after him.
“Just a small favor, no need to mention it! Take care,” Feng Xi said with a smile, waving at Cang Mochen’s retreating back.
Feng Ruyan watched Cang Mochen’s sudden change in attitude, feeling resentful. She wanted, in front of Feng Jingce and Feng Xu, to make trouble for Feng Xi and vent her anger.
Previously, just a few tears and feigned frailty would be enough for the Feng family to direct their ire at Feng Xi.
Feng Ruyan’s worry was genuine as she asked, “Sister, what’s wrong with the Young Lord? Did you give him something bad?”
Feng Xi raised an eyebrow and looked at her.
“Feng Ruyan, what do you mean by that? What bad thing could I possibly give Cang Mochen?”
“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” Feng Ruyan hurriedly waved her hand. “I’m just worried about the Young Lord’s condition; he looked uncomfortable just now.”
“Is that so?” Feng Xi sneered. “Then why didn’t you care earlier, and now come pretending to be concerned?”
Feng Ruyan was left speechless; she hadn’t expected Feng Xi to confront her so directly.
“Enough!” Feng Jingce finally interrupted, unable to hold back. “Let it go. Everyone should return and rest.”
“But, Big Brother…” Feng Ruyan started, but Feng Xu pulled her away.
“Alright, Yanyan, since the Young Lord said it was a misunderstanding, why create more trouble for Feng Xi?” Feng Xu said.
Feng Xi sneered and slowly walked toward the dilapidated hut.
“Did you hear that? Feng Ruyan, even blind Feng Xu can see that you came here intentionally to cause trouble. If this matter isn’t settled today, I’m ready anytime.”
Feng Ruyan’s face turned pale with anger. She stomped her foot.
“Feng Xi, what do you mean? Stop right there! Explain yourself clearly if you have the guts.”
But Feng Xi ignored her and pushed the door open, entering the room. Feng Jingce’s face darkened as he led the disciples away.
“B-Brother…” Feng Ruyan was speechless.
Feng Xu knew Feng Jingce was truly angry this time and dared not go against him.
“Alright, Yanyan, we’ll discuss this tomorrow. It’s getting late; your second brother will take you home to rest,” Feng Xu said, pulling her away.
A trace of resentment flashed in Feng Ruyan’s eyes. Helpless, she had no choice but to let him lead her away.
Fragrant Pavilion—
Inside, the candlelight illuminated the quiet water pavilion. Only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard.
Qiao Ju stood by the cold pool, letting cold sweat drip from his forehead. He looked around cautiously and asked,
“Y-Young Lord, are you feeling better?”
Thanks to Feng Xi’s pill, Cang Mochen, immersed in the cold pool to suppress his inner turmoil, was now flushed.
He supported himself on the railing, his fair knuckles faintly veined, as if enduring some hidden pain.
“Damn Feng Xi! Just wait—when the day comes, I’ll make her pay tenfold,” he gritted his teeth.
He hadn’t expected that, despite his flawless plan, two unexpected people had appeared.
Even his useless seventh brother had arrived?
And Feng Xi had turned the tables on him. If only he had known he’d end up in the cold pool twice, he wouldn’t have bothered at all.
Qiao Ju, his eyes filled with concern, offered advice.
“Young Lord, should I use a transmission talisman to inform Mother?”
Cang Mochen shook his hand.
“No need. This minor matter doesn’t deserve Mother’s attention. Handling it myself shows my incompetence better.”
“Understood, Young Lord. But what about those who come after?” Qiao Ju asked cautiously.
Cang Mochen narrowed his eyes, recalling the high-level artifact Feng Xi wore, feeling a twinge of irritation.
“Observe quietly,” he said coldly.
“But…” Qiao Ju began, but was interrupted.
“Find an opportunity to have the Feng family remove the protective artifact from that madwoman. Without it, let’s see how a low-level cultivator like her could possibly escape my grasp.” Cang Mochen’s voice was ruthless.
“Understood, Young Lord. I’ll make sure to use the Feng family to seize the chance,” Qiao Ju replied, eyes glinting with cunning.
Front Courtyard, Steward Hall—
The hall was solemn. At the main seat sat a dignified elderly lady.
She wore a luxurious silk robe, her silver hair neatly arranged. Though her face bore the marks of age, it exuded authority. Her cloudy eyes shone with sharp intelligence, intimidating all who dared glance at her.
Around her sat six people: two seemingly middle-aged men with serious expressions and sharp gazes, a beautiful woman in white, and a stern man in a gray robe, emanating a calm, imposing aura.
“If what you say is true, how did this girl manage to push the Young Lord into the cold pool by herself?” the elderly lady asked coldly.
Song He, standing in the center of the hall, answered steadily,
“Mother, that girl wore a high-level protective artifact on her body. No one could get close to her.”
The elderly lady’s eyes narrowed slightly, thinking. “A high-level protective artifact? How could a mere girl possess such a treasure?” Her voice was filled with doubt.