Chapter Twenty-Three
The air was thick with the impending storm. Fury gathered in Feng Qishan’s eyes, his usually gentle face twisted into something almost monstrous under the lamplight.
“What a fine daughter you are,” he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “You trust him, but not your own father?” Feng Xiyang crawled forward on her knees, her face pale as she hurriedly defended herself, “Xiyang didn’t mean it that way. Xiyang just didn’t want Father to be upset over these matters…”
Feng Qishan gasped as if he had just been freed from suffocation. Xia Jingshi felt a pang of pity and let out an almost inaudible sigh before speaking softly, “That phoenix crown… my mother wore it when she married the Late Emperor. So, I beg the Lord of the Nation to believe in my sincerity.”
Feng Xiyang and Feng Qishan’s gazes snapped to his face simultaneously—one brimming with tearful joy, the other with stunned realization.
Suddenly, Feng Qishan laughed—a complex, yet relieved laugh. “It seems I’ve grown old, too fixated on formalities. Xiyang, rise. Go and pack your things. You’ll move to the guest residence tonight.” Feng Xiyang’s damp lashes fluttered as she slowly stood. “Xiyang wishes to stay and speak with Father a while longer,” she murmured.
Feng Qishan’s expression darkened instantly. His eyes flicked sharply to Xia Jingshi, a strange depth swirling within them.
Every person in the hall heard his next words clearly:
“I shall ask the King Who Pacifies the South for one person.”
A sharp glint flashed in Xia Jingshi’s eyes. His fists clenched tightly, trembling slightly, yet a smile still surfaced on his face. “Might I ask whom the Lord of the Nation has taken a liking to?”
Feng Qishan’s expression grew peculiar, his voice slow and calm. “Xiyang will leave Su Sha tomorrow. Without her, the palace will feel unbearably empty.” His gaze drifted meaninglessly downward. “Ling Xueying, who travels with you—she is clever and spirited. I’ve taken a liking to her and wish to keep her by my side.”
He had heard the word “hypocrite” clearly during the wedding ceremony. Though Xiao Weiran had disrupted the moment, Feng Qishan had still gleaned hints from their expressions. Whoever Fu Yixiao had rushed to defend must hold great importance in her heart. A cold smirk curled in his mind—the challenge had been issued. Now, it was their turn to choose.
Dead silence fell. The crackling of the lamp wick was deafening. The flickering candlelight cast ghostly shadows over the pale faces seated on the Brocade mats.
His words struck Ning Fei like a slap, leaving him utterly dazed. Instinctively, he turned to Xueying, who still seemed bewildered. “Is he talking about me?” she asked softly.
Feng Suige stared at his inscrutable father as if thunderstruck. Over the past days, he had considered countless possibilities, even secretly dispatching guards to protect the guest residence and monitoring all personnel movements in the city. Yet he had never imagined his father would openly make such a demand—and that the person he wanted wasn’t her.
As for Yixiao, her mind plunged into darkness. A shrill ringing overwhelmed her senses. Rage—scorching yet icy—surged through her veins, tearing at her heart with bitter resentment.She had long stopped hoping for unexpected happiness to come her way, only wishing to live a plain and ordinary life—free from anxiety, worry, fear, harm, despair, homelessness, dead ends, or surprises. Nothing at all, just peace and quiet would suffice. So why was someone still unwilling to let her be? Why?!
The defiance she was born with surged once more. She did not seek power, but neither did she fear it!
A cold, sweaty hand gently covered Xueying’s, and Yixiao’s voice was soft yet firm, “Don’t worry, we’ll definitely return together.” After glancing at Ning Fei, she suddenly stood up, looking down disdainfully at the expressionless Feng Qishan. “Is this the conduct befitting the Lord of Vermilion Sand Country—forcibly taking another’s wife?” Feng Qishan raised an eyebrow and sneered, “She is clearly dressed as a maiden. How can you accuse me of forcibly taking another’s wife?”
Yixiao laughed, a hollow, insincere laugh. “The Lord of the Nation is being rather unreasonable. Do noblewomen of Vermilion Sand change their attire to that of a married woman immediately after accepting betrothal gifts?” While Xueying was still stunned, Ning Fei, catching Xiao Weiran’s signal, strode forward and declared boldly, “Indeed! It was only because I had to escort His Highness for the wedding procession that I postponed my own marriage. Otherwise, Xueying would already be my wife!”
Seeing Ning Fei step forward in defense, Xia Jingshi’s lips curled slightly as he said gently, “How about this? This prince will surely convey the Lord’s wishes to the Holy Emperor. I’m certain the Holy Emperor will carefully select a suitable candidate, ensuring the Lord is not disappointed.”
The Vermilion Sand nobility below the dais shrank back, not daring to breathe. This was likely the first—and only—wedding they had ever attended that was so bizarre. From Feng Qishan, they could already sense the dangerous aura of bloodshed, the foreboding of a ruler about to unleash slaughter.
“Fine. In that case, I’ll take the one beside her,” Feng Qishan finally spoke, his voice icy and devoid of emotion.
A murderous intent, thick with destruction, surged abruptly in Xia Jingshi’s star-bright eyes. His entire body tensed as his smile vanished. In a low voice, he said, “Duwei Fu holds a military rank and is no ordinary woman. The Lord’s demand is unreasonable!”
Feng Qishan smiled leisurely. “I’ve already considered that. At dawn tomorrow, I will draft a state letter and send it to the embassy, to be delivered by the King Who Pacifies the South to the Brocade Saint Emperor. I will personally explain the reasons in the letter. The Saint Emperor should not refuse.”
Xiao Weiran could no longer contain himself and stood up. Almost simultaneously, Feng Suige shot to his feet and cried out, “If Father feels lonely, this son will visit the palace more often to keep you company—”
“Father,” Feng Xiyang interjected with a smile before Feng Suige could finish, “So you also like Yixiao? It seems my judgment was correct.” Slowly descending the jade steps, she walked to Yixiao’s side and took her hand. “I’ve always thought that if my husband were to take a concubine, Yixiao would be the perfect choice…”
Everyone froze.
Xia Jingshi gazed at Xiyang, his heart surging with emotion. He truly hadn’t expected that the one who would step forward to protect Yixiao for him at this moment would be her.
Feng Qishan’s face darkened as he roared, “You’ve just married and are already arranging a concubine for your husband? Have you lost your mind trying to be the perfect wife?”Yixiao also looked incredulously at Feng Xiyang's smiling profile. Her smile was strained, and her hands were even colder than Xueying's, yet she did not yield. "Xiyang has been doted on since childhood, never having to worry about anything, and never learned the scheming ways of Imperial Concubines vying for favor and power. So, rather than having unfamiliar women by my side, I would much rather share a husband with someone like Yixiao, whose temperament aligns with mine."
As Xiyang's words echoed in his ears, Feng Suige stared fixedly at Yixiao. Would she agree? A sharp, twisting pain suddenly seized his heart, and he finally understood—because his heart had stirred, his emotions had followed.
The warmth of her presence still lingered on his chest, so vivid, as if she still stood outside the Hall of Proclaimed Virtue, still held in his embrace. But it was already destined that he could only watch her from afar—watch her come, and then watch her go.
Enough. He smiled bitterly. In truth, it was nothing. In life, it is rare to meet someone who stirs one's heart. Compared to those who drift through life without ever knowing what they seek, having met her, having his life intersect with hers—even if they could not stay together forever—was enough to leave no regrets.
Because in this mortal world, there is a you. And so, my heart is filled with happiness and contentment, overflowing.
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