Chapter Thirteen
Two maidservants each fastened a golden bracelet onto Fu Yixiao's wrists, the heavy weight pressing painfully against her skin.
Yixiao raised her hand, fingertips tracing the surface of the mirror. The woman reflected in the bronze mirror exuded a peculiar allure. The lavish makeup concealed her pallor but couldn't hide the gloom between her brows.
After her failed escape attempt that night, the guards in the attic had been reinforced. Early the next morning, shortly after finishing her meal, Yixiao discovered she had returned to her previous state of weakness in her limbs. Today, the Brocade Dynasty's wedding procession would enter the gates of Vermilion Sand Country. Feng Suige had actually forced her to accompany him to the city tower to welcome them. "Either the city tower or tonight's welcoming banquet—choose one yourself," he said with a malicious smile, signaling the maidservants he brought to dress her up.
"Miss Fu looks truly beautiful when adorned," one of the maidservants praised. "No wonder the Imperial Son dotes on you so."
Since that false alarm, news of the Vermilion Sand Imperial Son falling for a Brocade captive had spread throughout the entire estate, with versions of the story changing repeatedly. The part about Yixiao being injured was completely excised, eventually evolving into the touching tale of Feng Suige venturing deep into Brocade to reclaim his beloved. Gradually, the servants in the garden changed their address for Yixiao from Captain Fu to Miss Fu.
"His doting is certainly special!" Yixiao gritted her teeth, enunciating each word clearly.
As she spoke, the maid dressing her hair secured the final hairpin, carefully inspected everything, and finally nodded in satisfaction before stepping back. Another maid holding garments hurried forward to assist.
Yixiao's gaze fell on the coral-red brocade robe on the tray, her brow furrowing. "I don't want this one."
"Don't want it?" Feng Suige asked as he stepped into the room. "I recall you always wore coral-red battle robes—you must adore this color. I specifically had this prepared for you, and now you refuse it?"
Yixiao lowered her lashes. "This isn't a day when I should be wearing red."
"Red suits you well," he said, approaching her side and turning her body to examine her from all angles. "Why do you always keep your face so plain? Isn't this much better?"
Yixiao turned her head away from his gaze. "I haven't worn such colors since the war ended."
"Why is that?" Feng Suige pressed curiously. "Such bright colors would have made you very... noticeable on the battlefield..." His voice gradually turned cold, the previously gentle expression in his eyes frosting over. "For that person, you actually used yourself as bait? Did you think your life was too long?"
Yixiao simply gave him a faint smile in return. "I'm still alive."
Feng Suige raised an eyebrow and suddenly chuckled. "If you're trying to provoke me, you're wasting your effort—not liking this robe, tsk, what a predicament. At this hour, where am I supposed to find suitable formal attire?" He gave her a once-over with ill intent.
Suddenly, Feng Suige reached out and untied his own belt. Yixiao tensed, watching him warily.
He leisurely removed his two-toned gold embroidered brocade robe and draped it over Yixiao, laughing, "This one should fit."
Yixiao frowned. Before she could push away the outer robe still warm with his body heat, Feng Suige had already wrapped his arms around her to restrain her. Unable to break free, Yixiao snapped, "Let go! I'll wear the red one.""No," Feng Suige murmured with a faint smile by her ear, "I think this one suits you better." Seeing her still struggling, he simply kicked up the sash that had been thrown on the ground earlier, caught it midair, and used it to bind both the robe and Yixiao's hands tightly together. Amid the maids' startled gasps, he scooped Yixiao up in his arms and strode out.
The neglected maids fell silent for only a moment before bursting into excited chatter. But before they could say much, the hairdressing maid suddenly jumped up in alarm and rushed after them, calling out, "Imperial Son, you haven’t put on your outer robe!"
Even as Feng Suige hoisted her onto the horse, Yixiao was still weakly cursing, "...You battle-addled lunatic..." Her words were abruptly cut off by Feng Suige’s iron grip. "You can make as much noise as you like in the Water-Painting Garden, but once we’re outside, you’d better watch that tongue of yours. Otherwise..." He chuckled lowly when she glared at him. "If you promise to behave, I’ll let you fix your robes. You can refuse, of course—I don’t mind the King Who Pacifies the South seeing you disheveled in my arms."
Yixiao reluctantly nodded. Feng Suige immediately wrapped her in his cloak, untied the sash binding the outer robe, and loosened his hold just enough to give her space to adjust her clothing.
Once she had straightened herself, Feng Suige gave a satisfied smirk. "If I were you, I’d hold onto the man beside me for dear life." Before she could react, he dug his heels into the horse’s flank. The impatient steed let out a long whinny and shot forward like an arrow.
Yixiao nearly tumbled off. Though years of military life had accustomed her to galloping on horseback, and sharing a mount wasn’t new to her, being carried sideways like this was a first. The violent jostling forced her to cling tightly to Feng Suige’s chest—none of the deaths she had imagined for herself included being thrown from a horse. So she mustered all her strength to lock her arms around his waist, lest the speeding steed fling her off. He, on the other hand, looked utterly pleased, wearing that infuriating grin, his eyes gleaming as he spiritedly guided the horse toward the city gate tower.
She had never been so humiliated in her life.
Had she known this day would come, she should have shot him a few more times back then, Yixiao thought bitterly.
When they reached the base of the gate tower, Feng Suige still showed no intention of letting her down. Ignoring her struggles, he lifted her again and steadily ascended the steps.
"Elder Brother..." Feng Xiyang’s voice trailed off the moment she spotted Fu Yixiao. Her gaze swept over the male attire Yixiao wore before she flashed a knowing smile. "Elder Brother, was there really no time to let her change?"
Yixiao opened her mouth to retort, but a warning glance from Feng Suige made her swallow her words. Fuming, she pinched his waist with all her might.
Feng Suige’s expression didn’t waver as he set her down. "Go with Xiyang and wait over there. I’ll come for you after paying respects to Father."
A fast rider galloped down the main road, stopping below the tower to announce loudly, "Reporting to the Lord of the Nation, the Brocade Dynasty’s King Who Pacifies the South and his bridal procession have arrived within a li of the city!"
The master of ceremonies immediately glanced at Feng Qishan, the Lord of Vermilion Sand Country, and upon receiving his nod, proclaimed in a clear voice, "The King Who Pacifies the South of the Brocade Dynasty approaches!"The dragon-like roar of the horn instantly pierced the heavens, shaking Yixiao to her core. She abruptly stood up, ignoring the strange looks from the noblewomen around her, and dashed toward the wall.
He was here!
Feng Suige had somehow already returned, catching up to her and forcefully wrapping an arm around her waist. Feigning intimacy, he whispered in her ear, "So excited, hmm?"
Yixiao didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the royal banner fluttering at the head of the winding procession on the official road.
It was the flag she knew best—jet-black with a golden "Xia" embroidered boldly across it.
He was here.
Feng Suige gritted his teeth. "Staring won’t change anything. He’s not here for you. He’s here for Xiyang."
Yixiao turned to him with a dazzling smile, her eyes shimmering with a mix of clarity and allure. "Can you deceive your own heart?"
Feng Suige pressed his lips together, the veins on his forehead throbbing visibly.
Xia Jingshi, the King Who Pacifies the South, rode slowly toward the city walls of Vermilion Sand Country. He tilted his head slightly, meeting the gaze of Feng Qishan, the Lord of the Nation, who sat high and imposing like a tiger. Xia Jingshi inclined his head in a respectful nod.
Feng Qishan smiled at Xia Jingshi and beckoned Feng Xiyang forward. She skipped over to his side, flashing Xia Jingshi a radiant smile. Yet, his gaze remained unchanged—merely acknowledging her with a nod.
"Yixiao!" A shout drew everyone’s attention. Ling Xueying broke free from Ning Fei and rushed forward, pointing at the city wall. "Yixiao is up there!"
Xia Jingshi instinctively followed her gesture, his expression shifting when he spotted the two figures entangled in the recess of the wall.
Seeing Xia Jingshi look their way, Yixiao—whether because Feng Suige loosened his grip or because desperation lent her strength—wrenched herself free from his embrace and threw herself against the parapet. "Your Highness! Xueying! I’m here!"
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