Gao Fei was surprised—and a little unhappy—when he heard that the Eldest Princess was going to leave the group to search for Lang Huan. She might not care about the treasure they were looking for, but from her reaction, he could tell that the real reason she joined the expedition was because of the Little Duke.
He bowed respectfully to the Eldest Princess. "Your Highness, I'm worried about your safety," he said. "How about taking the Eldest Prince's shadow guards with you? They can protect you."
Feng Yao frowned for a moment, then seemed to understand something.
"My safety is nothing compared to His Majesty's," she said softly. "But thank you for your concern."
She added, "Besides, I'm leaving for personal reasons. That has nothing to do with the mission to find the treasure."
Gao Fei slowly lifted his head and looked at her.
The same woman who had coldly killed her own brother … now showed such gentle eyes when speaking about Lang Huan.
---
The little brat that the Eldest princess worried about day and night was now sleeping peacefully in a field of flowers.
Feng Xiyan slowly woke up and realized she was lying on top of Lang Huan, hugging her tightly.
She suddenly panicked and quickly moved her face closer, pressing her cheek near Lang Huan's nose to check if she was still breathing. When she felt the warm breath against her skin, she finally relaxed. Slowly, her finger traced over the woman's eyebrows, down her nose, and across her lips—then she smiled.
But the weight on her chest made Lang Huan dream that a big elephant was stepping on her. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Suddenly, her eyes flew open.
Seeing a face so close to hers, she screamed, "AAAHHHH!" and instinctively pushed Feng Xiyan off her.
"What are you doing?!" Lang Huan quickly hugged her body like a shy girl who had just been harassed by a pervert.
Feng Xiyan chuckled. "Are you afraid of me?"
She still remembered how bold Lang Huan to do such things with the Eldest Princess out in the wild.
No matter how daring she seemed, Lang Huan was still a woman… and she still cared about her innocence.
Lang Huan tried to sit up. Her body ached, and every small movement hurt. Nothing seemed broken—just a few scratches and bruises.
She looked around in confusion. Then it all came back to her—she had fallen off a cliff.
The place they had landed in was contrast from the top of the cliff. Up there, it was always cold, dark, and covered in thick mist. Down here… they were surrounded by a vast field of blooming flowers, colorful and peaceful.
People always said, "You won't fall into the same hole twice," but this was the second time she had fallen off a cliff.
They were lucky.
They landed on a thick patch of flowering bushes. If they had fallen just a little to the side, their bones might have broken.
Right then, Feng Xiyan stared at her blankly and asked, "What do we do now?"
"Hm? If you don't know, how could I?" Lang Huan replied with a shrug. "It would be much better if the Eldest Princess were here. She always knows how to solve everything."
Lang Huan suddenly realized how much she had come to depend on the Eldest Princess.
Ever since their relationship had grown deeper, Feng Yao hadn't just taken care of big problems—she even looked after the little things in Lang Huan's life.
She prepared her clothes, reminded her to eat, and even comforted her with silent hugs when she was feeling down. She was the perfect lover… and truly wife material.
Feng Xiyan's expression changed. Her smile faded, and she looked slightly offended.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice turning sharp. "Are you saying I'm not reliable?"
Lang Huan confused by her sudden change in mood. "I don't know why you're upset," she said calmly. "But we should find shelter soon. Night is coming."
As they got up, Feng Xiyan suddenly cried out, "Ouch!"
"I think I twisted my ankle," she said pitifully, giving Lang Huan a helpless look.
Lang Huan glanced at her face—there was a slight resemblance to Feng Yao. She let out a quiet sigh. What else could she do? She bent down and picked Feng Xiyan up in her arms. Hesitantly, the Eighth Princess's hand wrapped around Lang Huan's neck.
Feng Xiyan didn't regret falling with Lang Huan.Maybe this strange moment would finally give her the answer she had been searching for—the knot in her heart she had never been able to untie.
Her shoulder wasn't broad like a man's, but it was warm… soft… and surprisingly comfortable. Her scent was clean and calming, like wind after rain.
Feng Xiyan closed her eyes for a moment and let herself feel it. It was different from Wei Yanzhou's embrace—stiff and rough.
For the first time, Feng Xiyan realized: safety wasn't always about strength.
Lang Huan knew this woman—the one who used to call her "sissy" with a mocking tone—never liked her. This sudden friendliness made her feel puzzled.
She chuckled, trying not to overthink. Even though the Eldest Princess wasn't by her side, her fierce gaze—every time she got too close to another woman—flashed through her mind.
What if Feng Yao suddenly appeared right now? Saw her carrying Feng Xiyan in her arms?
Lang Huan could already imagine her lover's cold, angry face. She might just chop them both into ground meat… and stuff it into steamed buns. That scary thought made her walk faster.
After a while, they finally found a small bamboo house hidden between the trees.
Lang Huan gently set Feng Xiyan down on a bamboo chair outside, then stepped into the house to look around.
Inside, everything was neat. Simple tools hung on the walls, and some folded clothes rested on a wooden shelf. There were even some preserved foods stored carefully. At the back was a small cooking area—a fire pit still warm and a basket full of fresh vegetables sitting on the counter.
Lang Huan narrowed her eyes. Someone definitely lives here…
A sudden voice from outside startled Lang Huan.
"Let me go!" "Let me go!"
She rushed out and saw a man holding Feng Xiyan's arm. Without a second thought, Lang Huan kicked him hard in the chest. The man fell back with a cry, completely shocked.
He had thought he was lucky—finding a beautiful woman in his house. But he didn't expect that the woman wasn't alone… and that her companion was fierce.
The man quickly got up, rubbing his chest, and raised his hands. "Wait! I'm not a bad person. My name is Duo Ji, I'm a hunter. I live here."
Lang Huan didn't believe a word he said. She noticed how his eyes kept drifting to Feng Xiyan—full of interest.
They were injured, tired, and needed a place to stay. She didn't have any other choice for now.
Lang Huan suddenly reached out, pulled Feng Xiyan into her arms, and declared in a firm voice, "This is my wife."
Then she wrapped her arm protectively around Feng Xiyan's shoulder.
Feng Xiyan was quick to catch on. She understood what Lang Huan was doing—and decided to play along. Her eyes softened, and she leaned closer to Lang Huan with a sweet smile, like a loving wife.
"Ah… I see…" Duo Ji scratched his head awkwardly and looked away.
Lang Huan didn't let go. She let Feng Xiyan lean into her.
Duo Ji smiled and politely told them "You may stay in the house. I'll go stay behind the mountain for a few nights."
Lang Huan wasn't convinced. This man could be a mountain bandit. As she glanced around the house again, her suspicions grew. The hunter didn't have a wife—yet there were many women's clothes in the bamboo shelf, all clean and neatly folded.
Was this bamboo house just bait to trap people passing by?
After helping Feng Xiyan into the bedroom, Lang Huan went to the kitchen. She boiled some water and returned with a small basin of hot water and a clean towel.
She knelt down in front of Feng Xiyan. Carefully, she took off her shoes and socks, revealing the swollen ankle. Then, with gentle hands, she dipped the towel into the warm water and slowly pressed it against the injury.
Two soft red clouds bloomed on Feng Xiyan's cheeks.
No one had ever done this for her before—except her personal maid. But even then, it had never felt like this. Lang Huan's hands were warm, gentle, and full of care.
Feng Xiyan lowered her eyes, heart beating just a bit faster.
"Why are you… being so nice to me?" she asked quietly.
"Because you're… her sister."
The words were simple—but they hit Feng Xiyan like a slap.
In a flash, her expression changed. She kicked the basin of hot water. It spilled across the floor, soaking the wooden planks.
Lang Huan stood up at once, staring at her in disbelief. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" she snapped. "Are you on your period or something? Why is your mood changing every five minutes?!"
Feng Xiyan turned her face away, lips pressed into a tight line.
Lang Huan looked down at the spilled water, then back at the silent Feng Xiyan, who sat on the bed like a storm about to break.
Feng Xiyan was neither Feng Yao nor Su Qing—Lang Huan didn't have the patience to deal with her tantrums. Without another word, she turned and walked out, leaving Feng Xiyan alone in the room.
Feng Xiyan's chest rose and fell with growing anger. She left… just like that?
Her hands clenched into fists. The feeling in her chest was messy—was it anger? Hurt? Jealousy? She disliked it every time Lang Huan mentioned her sister. To Feng Xiyan, she was a golden leaf of the imperial tree—how could she be compared to a withered blossom cast aside by the wind?
"I'm not one of your servants!" Lang Huan shouted from outside.
She grabbed the empty basin from the floor and threw it hard.
CLANG!
The basin hit the wall loudly and bounced to the floor.
But Lang Huan didn't come back.
Feng Xiyan bit her lip hard, feeling even more humiliated than before. She pulled her knees to her chest and sat in silence, the soft sound of wind blowing through the bamboo walls the only reply to her anger.