The Marquis Zhenbei Mansion, flanked by two imposing stone lions at the entrance, occupies an expansive area. It includes a martial arts training ground, a horse arena, and interlinked gardens with winding corridors. It was originally the largest Prince Mansion in the capital and was later bestowed upon the Marquis Zhenbei by Emperor Jianming.
Xie Xun's courtyard lies in the west, consisting of a two-level compound. Decorated with rockeries, the inner yard features an impressive weapons rack laden with curved blades, spears, stone hammers, longbows, and swords, forming a small-scale martial training center. The western edge of the courtyard is lined with pomegranate trees, their branches extending all the way to the eaves—these are the yard's sole greenery.
The autumn wind was piercing; the night thick with dew. Flying Shadow knelt on the cold stone-paved ground, dressed only in a white single-layer robe. He was currently enduring twenty strokes of the military staff as punishment. On both sides of him stood the trusted aides in straight, disciplined rows. Beads of sweat gathered on Flying Shadow's forehead, crimson blood seeping through his thin garment, spreading into a vivid patch of red. After twenty strokes of the staff, no matter how strong his physique, his flesh was torn and bloodied.
Fengyu stood cloaked in a black cape, her hands clasped before her. Her strikingly handsome features, shrouded in the autumn wind, emanated both cold austerity and authority. To outsiders, this was the young Marquis punishing her most trusted subordinate, yet Fengyu's inner turmoil spoke otherwise. This was the warning Xie Xun gave her: she had struck Jiang Yang, and Xie Xun struck Flying Shadow. If she continued to act wilfully, others would bear the brunt of her actions.
Xie Xun—merciless, like a knife, sharp as an arrow.
"Flying Shadow, thank the master for the discipline!" After twenty strokes, Flying Shadow didn't so much as furrow his brow. Kneeling on one knee, he accepted the punishment, maintaining composure and dignity, whether before Xie Xun or Fengyu. For him, losing face was out of the question.
"Everyone except Flying Shadow and Nuanyang, leave!"
"Yes, sir!" Xie Xun's personal guards retreated promptly. Flying Shadow stood up, while Fengyu led the way inside. Nuanyang escorted Flying Shadow to the side quarters for treatment, ensuring his wounds were dressed and that he changed into clean clothes before entering the inner hall; Nuanyang remained stationed outside the courtyard.
As autumn winds gusted through the night, the lanterns dangling in the corridors swayed with the breeze. Standing under the corridor, Nuanyang counted the lanterns one by one. The cold wind swept past, forcing him to hug his cloak tightly against himself.
The interior was just as cold. Though Xie Xun was the young Marquis, his residence was stark and austere—bereft of porcelain vases, paintings, or calligraphy. No incense burners, no folding screens—like a temporary residence during wartime, devoid of any comfort or indulgence. Upon her arrival at the mansion, Fengyu had lifted an eyebrow in disdain. Bored one day, she painted a scenic moon appreciation painting despite her lifelong disdain for studying or painting. Confident in its charm, she hung it on the wall for her own enjoyment.
There was still over an hour until midnight. Flying Shadow encouraged Fengyu to meet Prince Sangnan's heir, yet Fengyu refused to budge. Sitting quietly on the heated couch by the window, she leaned languidly against the bookshelf, one leg bent, her expression somber.
The Soul Suppressing Pearl had been sent to Xiangguo Temple. Coming and going would mean Xie Xun wouldn't return tonight. Fengyu had no choice but to handle the negotiation in his stead—but the matter was beyond her expertise.
"I'm sorry for involving you by hitting Jiang Yang," Fengyu murmured apologetically.
Flying Shadow's scalp tingled. "Miss, you exaggerate. Subordinates who err rightfully deserve punishment."
Fengyu adopted Xie Xun's tone, her voice soft and tender enough to raise goosebumps on Flying Shadow's skin. He dared not meet her eyes.
"I don't want to attend the negotiation," Fengyu protested. She feared ruining it yet couldn't dismiss the gravity of the matter. Though she delighted in vexing Xie Xun, this was far too critical for carelessness.
After all, she was a daughter of military lineage. Her parents were fighting the Beiman in Ningzhou. On this issue, she and Xie Xun were aligned, willing to set aside their mutual resentment. Still, she struggled with how to proceed. "Can't it truly be delayed by just one day?"
"Miss, the Beiman wars have lasted three years, claiming countless lives," Flying Shadow pleaded with heated conviction. "The noble houses care not for the chaos on the borderlands, only for their own power and wealth. The Marquis seeks to end the conflict swiftly. Three months ago, lack of provisions cost Ningzhou's two vanguard teams their lives at enemy hands—none survived. Amidst Ningzhou's snowfall, the army suffers hunger and cold; warhorses are exhausted from their trials. To ease Ningzhou's plight, the young Marquis risked his life to communicate with Prince Sangnan's heir, hoping to utilize the Southwest Grain Road for transporting supplies and provisions to Ningzhou. Miss, for the sake of the tens of thousands of soldiers risking their lives on the border, please make the trip to Furong Inn to meet Prince Sangnan's heir." Kneeling before the heated couch, Flying Shadow's words burned with passion and a sorrowful earnestness.
As Xie Xun's deputy general in many campaigns, Flying Shadow understood Ningzhou's dire straits more deeply than anyone.
Even Fengyu's heart was stirred by Flying Shadow's speech. "But if I meet with him, will he truly open the Southwest Grain Road?"
"The Princely Heir promised that as long as the young Marquis makes an appearance, he would grant passage." Hope glimmered in Flying Shadow's gaze. "Miss, are you willing to go now?"
Fengyu had a nagging feeling that something was amiss but couldn't pinpoint it. Knowing the gravity of the situation, she made a cautious decision. "Everyone tends to their own snow; this is the young Marquis's issue. I do have a plan, though—I'm uncertain if your Marquis is willing to cooperate."
At Feng Mansion, within Plum Garden.
With less than an hour to midnight, Xie Xun tossed and turned restlessly. Two things plagued him: first, the negotiation itself. His confrontations with Fengyu had left him with an impression of vanity, vindictiveness, and laziness—all traits ill-suited for diplomacy. A failure in negotiation would spell ruin for the half year's preparations. Second, the room was far too fragrant, the bed overly soft. Whiffs of the elusive fragrance continued to permeate his nose.\p>
Fengyu's health was frail—she feared the wind and cold. With autumn upon them, her room was heated with coal, enveloping it in warmth. Even after Xie Xun had ordered Qiuxiang to remove the incense burner, traces of the delicate aroma lingered. The embroidered canopy bed was soft like a cloud, wholly unsuitable for someone like him, accustomed to hard flat beds and rough conditions during wartime expeditions. In stark contrast to Xie Xun's bare quarters, Fengyu's room was a visual indulgence: ornate paintings, antique curios, and her gem cabinet filled with all manner of rare oddities. In the center stood a massive white jade warhorse, lifelike in its craftsmanship. With carpets of thick wool underfoot and extravagantly furnished interiors, her quarters were both luxurious and aesthetic. Due to her fragile health, the Feng Family had even routed mountain spring water into her room, building a large thermal pool for her use.
Xie Xun sneered coldly. "Wretched excess!"
Even a humble lady of the Feng Family was nurtured more delicately than a Princess of the Imperial Court.
Suddenly, Xie Xun narrowed his eyes—three rhythmic knocks sounded on the window: Flying Shadow's personal signal. Pulling on his robe, Xie Xun pushed open the window to see Flying Shadow standing in the corridor. "Master, the miss has agreed to meet Prince Sangnan's heir but insists you must accompany her!"
Shortly after, Flying Shadow escorted Fengyu through the side gate. Inside, Qiuxiang awaited their return.
Outside, Fengyu straddled a white horse while Nuanyang managed the reins of a horse-drawn carriage. Xie Xun glanced at Fengyu, who was dressed in a black cloak, adorned with a jade coronet, and wore a longsword at her waist. She carried herself with commanding grace and unyielding elegance. When she slanted her gaze toward him, the long curve of her eye seemed to dance with a trace of amusement.
Fengyu stared at herself, captivated. Mirrors blurred and distorted—this was her first glimpse of herself through another's gaze. Under the embroidered crimson cape patterned with peonies, her features were exquisitely drawn. She clutched a hand warmer with slender jade-like fingers. Fengyu thought inwardly: I truly am stunning!
It was also the first time Xie Xun observed himself from another's perspective. Unlike Fengyu, who found herself breathtaking, Xie Xun found his own appearance plain repugnant. He and Fengyu regarded one another with mutual disdain.