Feng Xingzhi stood at Ji Yunxi’s side. The tall figure beside her made it easy to place the newcomer’s features at a glance.
A flash of memory—something Hua Siyun had said earlier—crossed his mind and his face went dark.
The man had heard Li Jiugo’s startled call and turned, a composed, elegant smile on his face. “Miss Ji.”
Only then did Ji Yunxi recognize him. It was Qi Haoyang, the eldest son of the Qi household.
Li Jiugo peered at her cousin and edged forward. “Yunxi, isn’t that Qi Haoyang? What’s he doing here?”
“How should I know?” Ji Yunxi replied, equally puzzled. Qi Haoyang was known for moving faster and farther than most—he never teamed up with anyone and always outraced others in depth and rank. So why was he here?
Like two curious kittens, they craned their necks. Qi Haoyang chuckled. “I was moving forward as usual, but on this level I noticed a few of you skulking about. I suspected mischief and waited. I never expected to catch you red-handed.”
His expression turned cool. He swept his gaze over Lu Chengming and the others, then said, “Eastern Jin and Southern Yan have always been on friendly terms. Are you really willing to turn against us?”
Lu Chengming’s group fell silent.
Ji Yunxi didn’t believe him. Even if he had seen people acting suspiciously, she doubted he would simply loiter here waiting for them. When he took the initiative to confront Lu Chengming’s party, she leaned in and whispered, “Are you sure you’re on our side? These people are vicious—we can’t shake them once we’re entangled.”
Qi Haoyang didn’t flinch. He waved his hand with a casual arrogance. “What’s there to fear? They’re nothing but rats. Besides, we’re all from Southern Yan. We should look out for one another.”
Feng Xingzhi’s face betrayed nothing, but under the surface he was unsettled. Like Ji Yunxi, he didn’t buy Qi’s words. Still, as long as Qi didn’t harm Ji Yunxi, Feng decided he could pretend not to notice whatever motives lay beneath.
Qi Haoyang wasn’t stupid; he knew his reasoning sounded grandiose. He added, “I did hear about Lu Chengming bullying the weak that day. I meant to teach him a lesson, but Miss Ji struck before I could—your courage left me speechless.”
There was a certain gleam in his eyes—a look Feng knew all too well. It was the same light he’d seen in the gazes of the men in the capital who fancied Ji Yunxi.
Alarm bells rang in Feng’s head. He tightened his grip on Ji Yunxi’s sleeve and watched Qi like a hawk. If Qi harbored those kinds of intentions, how could Feng dispose of him without anyone noticing?
Qi’s glance slid over and landed on Feng. He’d always looked down on Feng—what threat could a so-called useless prince pose? Dismissing him, Qi returned his full attention to Ji Yunxi as if no one else existed. “I admire you greatly. Anything concerning you, I’ll help with.”
Li Jiugo froze, then nudged her cousin. “Cousin, the man you’ll be fighting for has arrived.”
Feng’s jaw tightened. “I’m not blind.”
Li Jiugo almost laughed but forced it back. “Don’t get angry yet. I’ll help you with the household later, but for now another ally can’t hurt.”
“I know. I’m at least a little smarter than you,” Feng muttered.
Lu Chengming watched them whisper and took no heed of their threats. Anger flared hotter in him, but he also respected Qi Haoyang’s reputation. He tried to weigh his options—best to avoid a direct clash.
Qi Haoyang, however, would not be deterred. After a few more words to Ji Yunxi, he drew his sword.
Lu Chengming and his men exchanged looks. It was too late to back down; they drew their blades as well.
“If it comes to that, maybe we should run,” Zhao Qingwan suggested lowly. She had no desire to die here, so she tried to urge a withdrawal.
Lu Chengming’s face flushed with rage. “Coward! If you run now, how will you face the world afterward?”
Zhao Qingwan bit her tongue; that wasn’t her fault. She lowered her voice instead. “Then focus on Ji Yunxi. Don’t scatter—think carefully about the others.”
“Kill one, kill two—kill them all if they want to die,” Sang Qingzhou said. “None of them can be spared.”
He had a plan: Ji Yunxi had to die, and Hua Siyun could not be allowed to live either. If word reached the Empress of the Northern Di, other schemes would be ruined.
Zhao saw through Sang’s intention and sneered, “Sang, you really won’t stop until you get what you want. I think it’s not Ji Yunxi you’re after, but the Northern Di princess.”
Exposed, Sang sputtered. “Don’t talk nonsense!”
From a distance Hua Siyun watched, sword clenched tight. Sang was treacherous enough to betray his country—and now he intended to strike at her. He would not be let off.
Swords were already out. Li Jiugo and the others faced off.
Feng Xingzhi stayed by Ji Yunxi’s side, sword in hand. He and Ji moved with a practiced rhythm—her blade Nian Yun singing in perfect tandem with his. Out of sight of the others, he poured a little inner energy to aid her.
Lu Chengming would not engage Ji Yunxi head-on. He tried attrition—wave after wave of men sent in to wear down Ji and Feng.
Feng detected hidden weapons on their attackers and quietly formed an energy shield around himself and Ji Yunxi. The concealed darts and blades could not get close.
Although Lu’s men were formidable, Qi Haoyang’s inner strength was on another level. With him joining the fray and Ji Yunxi’s skill, the attackers were routed before long.
Lu Chengming stared in disbelief. His last trump card—what his father had handed him—had just been defeated. There was no coming back.
Ji Yunxi smiled as she walked toward him. “I thought cutting your tendons before would teach you a lesson—to make you remember—but I see people like you never feel grateful.”
Lu Chengming snarled. “You injured me—why should I thank you?”
“You really believe your physician could fix a severed tendon?” Ji Yunxi asked, cool as winter.
For a moment Lu Chengming seemed to understand, then he froze. “What…what are you saying?”
“I didn’t completely sever them last time,” she said. “I left you a way out. But you kept coming back, over and over. I’m not in the mood to be charitable anymore.”
Ji Yunxi rose and then stepped on his left arm with her boot, crushing the spot where the tendon had been reattached. With a deft motion she broke it cleanly.
“Now you’ll be a useless man for good.”