Chapter 92

As Feng Liwu searched, he unexpectedly fell into inner turmoil. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would have been like if Jiang Xiurun had truly been harmed by evildoers—adrift and helpless in the water… The thought left him even more dejected.

Then today, suddenly, a guard monitoring the outer river reported back that Dou Siwu was holding a man resembling Qian’er, crying out in anguish.

Feng Liwu hurried over to see for himself.

What he first heard, however, were the indecent sounds coming from inside the carriage.

He had already found it strange why Dou Siwu was so adamant about searching.

But if Dou Siwu was unaware of Jiang Xiurun’s identity, then it was likely he was simply looking for his fellow schoolmate, Xu Ying.

Yet now, seeing the situation, could it be that he had harbored lustful intentions toward his Xiurun?

With this thought, Feng Liwu immediately leaped onto the carriage.

But when he lifted the curtain, what he saw was completely beyond his expectations.

Although Dou Siwu’s taste was rather shocking, Feng Liwu had no time to concern himself with that.

His focus was solely on pulling the person he had yearned for day and night into his embrace.

Had it not been for the fact that she looked like she had suffered greatly these past days, Feng Liwu would have wanted to kiss her from head to toe right then and there in the forest, to ease the torment of his longing.

Jiang Xiurun’s body felt weak at this moment. She couldn’t even make sense of her own emotions—was it frustration over yet another failed escape attempt? Or the shock of seeing him return from the dead?

Everything mixed together into a feeling she couldn’t quite name, a hidden joy she dared not examine too closely.

She wanted to push away the tall young man who was kissing her so tightly.

After all, she wasn’t exactly clean.

The stubble on his face had grown rough, scratching her skin. And she still hadn’t explained her disappearance—why wasn’t the ever-suspicious Feng Liwu interrogating her? Why was he just kissing her endlessly?

Was he not afraid that she might be an imposter, a shadow woman in disguise?

But as the two of them held each other tighter and tighter, all these thoughts became insignificant.

Jiang Xiurun couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, surrendering to the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart.

His musky scent filled her nose…

If she really thought about it, she had lived two lifetimes but never truly known what it meant to love.

Her previous life had been too bitter, and Qin Zhao’s brutality had crushed any budding dreams a young girl might have had about romance.

In this life, all her energy had been spent trying to find a way for her and her brother to escape the tragic fate of their past.

Feng Liwu was nothing more than a temporary refuge, a mountain she could lean on—there was no need to invest true feelings.

Jiang Xiurun refused to dwell too deeply on the matter.

What was happening now was probably just the thrill of having escaped danger.

After all, food and desire were both basic human needs. If one went hungry for too long, it was only natural to crave a taste when something was within reach.

With this reasoning, the small attachment she felt toward him suddenly became something she could rationalize.

A long while passed before the two of them reluctantly parted.

Feng Liwu carried her onto his horse and returned to his encampment.

Once inside his tent, he ordered his guards to heat water for Jiang Xiurun to bathe in a wooden tub.

Since Qian’er was still being harassed by Dou Siwu in his carriage, there were no attendants here to assist.

Feng Liwu simply took matters into his own hands and personally helped scrub Jiang Xiurun’s back.

Jiang Xiurun wanted no part of this.

In two lifetimes, she had never been bathed by a man—how could she possibly accept it now?

But she couldn’t overpower Feng Liwu, and in the end, she was pressed into the water as he scrubbed her back with a loofah.

The warm water soothed her weary body, and soon she found herself slumping against the edge of the wooden tub.

His firm but gentle scrubbing made her lips part slightly, her eyes half-closing in comfort.

However, she couldn’t keep the truth about Feng Wu’s scheming from him.

Taking advantage of the moment, Jiang Xiurun told Feng Liwu everything—about Qin Zhao and Feng Wu’s collusion, about their plot against him.

Feng Liwu’s expression grew colder and colder, his silence turning heavy.

That younger brother of his was their father’s most cherished son. Since childhood, their father had raised him as the heir to the throne.

Had it not been for their maternal grandfather’s intervention, Feng Liwu might not have even been allowed to step foot into the study hall.

Even when he did, he knew he couldn’t outshine Feng Wu lest he incur their father’s displeasure.

Despite having secretly learned to read and write from his mother’s palace maids while in the Cold Palace, he pretended to be utterly ignorant, deliberately making mistakes just to make Feng Wu seem more brilliant.

It was the only way he could secure his own right to education.

Later, with the support of senior ministers, he seized the opportunity when their father was away, triggering a coup.

Though he killed Feng Wu’s mother, he hadn’t eliminated Feng Wu himself.

Not because of brotherly affection—far from it.

Their father had flown into a rage, writing to their grandfather that very night.

And the senior ministers had no desire to bear the stigma of having slain a prince under the guise of ridding the court of traitors.

So they publicly declared that the second prince had succumbed to a sudden illness, erasing him from history.

At first, Feng Liwu had his men keep an eye on Feng Wu in secret.

But as someone who had grown up in the Cold Palace, he had never known the warmth of familial love. He only understood the necessity of eliminating threats at the root.

Yet Feng Wu seemed to have gained the protection of a powerful figure.

Several assassination attempts failed, and in the end, he disappeared completely.

Who would have thought that this so-called dead second prince would suddenly resurface to stir up trouble?

And with such sinister intentions—going so far as to swap Jiang Xiurun for an assassin meant to kill him!

Feng Liwu felt that Feng Wu was asking for death.

He would not be blamed for showing no brotherly mercy.

Meanwhile, Jiang Xiurun had spoken with great caution.

After all, Feng Wu’s malicious schemes were a grave threat to Feng Liwu’s position.

As innocent as she was, she had been dragged into this fratricidal turmoil.

If Feng Liwu ever suspected her of colluding with Feng Wu, then both she and her brother would be in grave danger.

With that thought, Jiang Xiurun felt a tightness in her chest, her body unconsciously tensing up.

Feng Liwu noticed the sudden tension beneath his palm and lowered his head to ask, “What are you so nervous about?”

Jiang Xiurun was reflecting on her own actions. To mislead Feng Wu, she had acted recklessly in his presence. But after meeting Feng Liwu again, she had failed to adopt the cautious and deferential attitude she should have.

That was a mistake.

She quickly lifted her gaze and carefully flattered him, “I was just thinking how dirty I am, surely making Your Highness’ hands sore from the effort. I regret it now… I’m already clean, Your Highness should go and rest as well. I was foolish and failed to realize a villain was lurking at my side, troubling Your Highness unnecessarily. Fortunately, Your Highness is the fated heir of the Great Qi, blessed with auspicious clouds and the golden dragon’s protection—no petty scoundrel could ever harm you…”

Feng Liwu watched as Jiang Xiurun put back on her usual mask of flattery and sycophancy.

His thick brows arched slightly, and instead of addressing that, he asked something more pressing:

“You said Feng Wu kidnapped you to study your demeanor and conduct. Then why did that shadow woman act so differently? In the room, she even dared to smack me on the rear.”

Jiang Xiurun seized the opportunity to prove her loyalty.

She immediately responded, “I feared Your Highness might fall for the villains’ scheme, so I deliberately acted the opposite way—adopting an arrogant, spoiled attitude to deceive Feng Wu.”

Feng Liwu glanced at the fox-fur cloak placed nearby.

The luxurious fur and design suggested it belonged to Feng Wu rather than Jiang Xiurun, as it was far too large for her.

Listening to her words, he asked casually, “Did Feng Wu suspect anything?”

Jiang Xiurun saw another chance to claim credit.

She sank a little lower into the water, letting it cover her neck, and spoke with a hint of smugness, “I handled it carefully, so he did not suspect a thing. I knew that with Your Highness’ keen insight, you would surely see through the female assassin’s flaws.”

Feng Liwu did not press the matter further.

From what he knew of his younger brother, it was unusual for Feng Wu to keep Jiang Xiurun alive after capturing her.

Jiang Xiurun had been in his hands for days.

She was an enchanting, alluring woman—how could a lecher like Feng Wu possibly resist her?

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

After all, he had just regained her after so much effort—there was no time for resentment, only for cherishing her.

From now on, he would never let her leave his side.

As for Feng Wu… an uncontainable killing intent surged within Feng Liwu.

That brother of his could not be left alive.

That very night, after pulling Jiang Xiurun onto his bed, Feng Liwu did not let her leave again, fully demonstrating the strength of a wolf that had gone hungry for far too long.

Between moments of passion, Jiang Xiurun still managed to ask about Qian’er.

But Feng Liwu, nestled against her neck, only mumbled indistinctly, “What are you worried about? If she doesn’t want it, no man can force her.”

Jiang Xiurun found herself at a loss for words.

Before she could say more, he silenced her again.

While things on their side were affectionate and indulgent, over at the residence of the Second Prince of Great Qi, storm clouds gathered, and thunder raged.

Feng Wu awoke with a splitting headache.

Looking around, he found his guards and servants sprawled across the floor—unconscious.

He instantly realized that he had fallen into Jiang Xiurun’s trap.

His heart burned with fury.

Throughout his life, he had toyed with countless women.

With his handsome features and extraordinary bearing, they had always obeyed him willingly.

He had even treated Jiang Xiurun with exceptional gentleness and care these past days—far better than that dull and rigid Feng Liwu.

Yet despite knowing that she was destined to become the Crown Princess of Great Qi, she still chose to escape.

She was utterly ungrateful!

Humiliated and furious at being outwitted, Feng Wu felt that Jiang Xiurun had trampled on his genuine affection.

He wanted nothing more than to drag her back and make her regret ever defying him.

Gritting his teeth, he spat, “Princess Jiang, let’s see if you can still act so arrogantly once I capture you again!”

He ordered his barely conscious guards to rouse the rest, then quickly reorganized his forces. He sent a team of men to track Jiang Xiurun and her maid’s whereabouts while he himself led the rest back to the capital.

But the pursuers soon returned with bad news—Jiang Xiurun and her maid had disguised themselves, making it impossible to trace them.

Feng Wu wasted no time.

He immediately offered a hefty reward, plastering notices everywhere to hunt them down.

After all, in this world, the most precious thing was always what one could not obtain.

Feng Wu had initially only intended to toy with Jiang Xiurun for a while. But after she abandoned him without a trace, vanishing completely, he found himself obsessively replaying her languid, wanton demeanor in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more restless he became, both yearning for her and fuming at her lack of awareness.

If he couldn’t find her, it didn’t matter—her greatest weakness was her brother.

As long as he returned to the capital quickly and captured Jiang Zhi, he was certain Jiang Xiurun would have no choice but to walk straight into his trap.

The thought of her being forced to seek him out, kneeling at his feet and pleading for his forgiveness, sent a wave of pleasure through him.

Without further delay, he hastened his journey back to the capital.

However, along the way, Feng Wu noticed that the main roads were heavily guarded, with checkpoints meticulously inspecting the identities of travelers. The closer he got to the capital, the tighter the scrutiny became.

After pondering for a while, he felt that something was amiss. So much time had passed—why had his spies in the capital failed to send back any information?

Even if the Crown Prince’s subordinates were bold, they had families to protect. How could they possibly keep silent and allow the Crown Prince’s corpse to rot in some foreign land?

Unless… Feng Liwu wasn’t dead?