Chapter Fifty-Six: The Xuanyuan Family

Chapter Fifty-Six

Feng Jinye was stunned; even the apricot tree knew about Weishao Qianyu’s secrets… Yet Weishao Qianyu herself felt uncertain, only able to do her utmost. After explaining the environmental therapy, she saw Feng Jinye and Yun Ming fall into silence. At once, she realized her guess was right—their reactions revealed that Feng Qingxuan’s first shock likely left her with childhood trauma.

Yun Ming glanced at Feng Jinye, recalling that night fourteen years ago—when King Yuan and Queen Yuan were assassinated. Feng Jinye, covered in blood, appeared at the Marquis of Xibo’s residence, carrying young Feng Qingxuan on his back.

Weishao Qianyu sensed that this too was a shadow in Feng Jinye’s heart.

Generation after generation, the Feng family produced the war gods of Liyue Kingdom. Feng Jinye and his father, King Yuan, were both prime targets for assassins from Xiyan Kingdom.

Fourteen years ago, Feng Jinye was eleven, Feng Qingxuan eight.

On a summer night filled with cicada song, a torrential rain suddenly swept the western outskirts. Apart from the steady patter of rain, Qinfeng Courtyard was unusually quiet.

Feng Jinye sensed something amiss and was about to investigate when Queen Yuan entered, carrying Feng Qingxuan. She thrust the child into Feng Jinye’s arms: “Go to the Marquis of Xibo, bring reinforcements!”

Young Feng Jinye didn’t see it as fetching help, and indeed, two squads of shadow guards appeared at once. His father and mother were determined to protect their children’s escape, even at the cost of their lives.

Feng Jinye shook his head, pushing Feng Qingxuan into the hands of the shadow guards, insisting, “Mother, take Qingxuan and go!”

“Jinye!” Queen Yuan shouted, drawing the hidden Yuan sword and pointing it at Feng Qingxuan’s throat. “If you refuse to take your sister, we’re all doomed. If you won’t, I’ll kill her myself right now!”

Feng Jinye was horrified—the sword’s tip grazed little Feng Qingxuan’s neck, nearly piercing her throat.

Under his mother’s forceful command, Feng Jinye carried Feng Qingxuan out through the rear mountain.

The summer rain showed no sign of stopping.

Feng Jinye soon realized the rear mountain was surrounded by countless black-clad assassins.

He hid in the darkness, but the rain awakened little Feng Qingxuan in his arms. Dazed, she mumbled, “Brother…”

A squad of shadow guards quickly encircled them for protection.

“Qingxuan, be good—climb up the tree!” Feng Jinye ordered sternly.

Little Feng Qingxuan sensed the approaching danger. Feng Jinye lifted his sister onto his shoulders, letting her step up and climb.

But the rain kept falling. Frightened and panicked, she slipped down again and again.

The forest was filled with the metallic scent of blood. Her face was streaked with tears or rain—she could not tell which blurred her vision.

“Little Princess, step on me…” An injured shadow guard struggled to his feet, holding onto the tree trunk so Feng Qingxuan could climb up.

Feng Qingxuan finally managed to reach the branches. When she looked down, the shadow guard was lifeless, collapsed in a pool of blood.

Her hands and feet were covered in the blood of the shadow guards.

At eight years old, it was her first time witnessing such carnage, seeing herself soaked in blood.

Below, Feng Jinye fought his way through enemies, his eyes red with rage.

The rain lasted all night, only stopping when dawn broke, revealing to Feng Qingxuan the river of blood beneath the tree.

A sudden hiss—a sharp arrow flew by. Little Feng Qingxuan cried out and fell from the tree.

Feng Jinye turned, enduring a slash to his back, and caught Feng Qingxuan securely.

The last two shadow guards from Qinfeng Courtyard rushed over. “Young lord, take the princess and go…”

“The king and queen have fallen in battle, young lord, think of the princess, go…”

One guard pulled Feng Jinye and Feng Qingxuan away, while the other shielded them from arrows.

Feng Jinye held Feng Qingxuan, running toward the Marquis of Xibo’s residence.

“If you don’t protect yourself and the princess, how will you face the king and queen who died for you!” The last shadow guard pushed Feng Jinye forward, parrying the incoming arrows with his sword.

Feng Jinye glanced back toward Qinfeng Courtyard, then turned and ran toward the Marquis.

The road from the western outskirts to the Marquis’s residence was one he had traveled countless times. Normally, with light footwork, crossing the rear mountain never took more than two incense sticks. But this time, it took all night and he still hadn’t arrived.

The assassins pursued relentlessly, attacking from afar with arrows. Feng Jinye held Feng Qingxuan tightly—if he hid, he would surely die, and if he died, his sister would not survive.

“Qingxuan, just ahead is an abandoned temple. Go hide there, I’ll come for you soon!” Feng Jinye coaxed her as he set her down.

Feng Qingxuan nodded numbly, her mind echoing only the shadow guard’s words: “The king and queen have fallen.”

Her father and mother were dead, as lifeless as those blood-soaked bodies beneath the tree.

“Qingxuan, run!” Feng Jinye shouted. Little Feng Qingxuan fled desperately.

Feng Jinye gripped his hidden Yuan sword, watched his sister hide in the temple, and turned to face the pursuers.

Feng Qingxuan entered the abandoned temple, gasping for breath, seeking a corner to hide, unable to suppress her sobs.

Though only eleven, Feng Jinye fought alone against countless foes. Unable to defeat him at close range, the assassins switched to shooting arrows from afar.

With grim determination, Feng Jinye knocked down arrow after arrow, killing enemies within a hundred paces.

After a night of fierce battle, the young Feng Jinye was nearly exhausted.

When he finally dispatched the last assassin, a scream from Feng Qingxuan echoed behind him.

Inside the Hall of Words, silence settled for a long, long while.

Feng Jinye said nothing. Yun Ming rose wordlessly and left, leaving Weishao Qianyu and Feng Jinye alone in the room.

“If you truly can’t speak, then don’t,” Weishao Qianyu suddenly said, breaking the silence.

Feng Jinye lifted his eyes to her. She continued, “If so, then everything remains as it is. The triggers cannot be avoided, and only when discovered can they be managed. The one to suffer is still Qingxuan.”

Weishao Qianyu recalled her first meeting with Feng Qingxuan—Feng Jinye had bluntly called Qingxuan ugly. Suddenly she thought of another possibility.

“Did Qingxuan ever seem to become a different person, as if sick?” she asked urgently.

“Yes,” Feng Jinye nodded, his voice tinged with weariness. He added, “Fourteen years ago, our family was hunted, and Qingxuan watched from the tree as I killed almost everyone…”

Weishao Qianyu had guessed something similar, but never imagined Qingxuan witnessed Feng Jinye personally take lives.

“Was it the day your father and mother were assassinated?” she probed.

Feng Jinye nodded again, and Weishao Qianyu understood—this was likely why Feng Qingxuan was triggered when surrounded by shadow guards.

She remembered what Duke Lu had said: the Feng family was once a branch of the royal family, which explained their perpetual rank—and perhaps why they were targets for assassins.

She had heard that King Yuan and Queen Yuan fell to assassins from Xiyan, which led Feng Jinye to raze Xiyan.

Weishao Qianyu always felt the circumstances of their deaths too absurd, and believed Feng Jinye must have noticed as well.

It seemed like a conspiracy—someone killed King Yuan and Queen Yuan, blamed Xiyan, and used Feng Jinye to destroy Xiyan.

“What you suspect, I have considered,” Feng Jinye said. “I once vowed to conquer Xiyan, precisely to lure out the mastermind behind it all.”

“Now, all clues regarding the black-clad men point to the Twilight Pavilion,” Feng Jinye gritted his teeth.

His next target would be the Twilight Pavilion.

Weishao Qianyu suddenly paused. “Feng Jinye, have you considered that maybe someone is using you to eliminate the Twilight Pavilion?”

It seemed so much like a scheme for unifying the world—Feng Jinye was like a weapon wielded by others.

“Feng Jinye, I…” Weishao Qianyu couldn’t help grabbing his sleeve.

“Don’t be afraid…” Feng Jinye sat at her bedside, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Silence returned for a long moment, before Feng Jinye’s low, hoarse voice broke it again: “There’s something I think you should know…”

He spoke of the prophecy: “A celestial maiden will emerge once in a hundred years from Weishao.”

In Liyue Kingdom, there was a prophecy that a celestial maiden would be born every century from the great families. The term “great family” was actually a surname; it should be “Weishao produces a celestial maiden every hundred years.” The tragedy that befell Weishao Qianyu’s parents and clan was linked to this prophecy.

The only others who knew of this were another ancient clan, the Xuanyuan family, whose compound surname was as old as Weishao’s.

Feng Jinye’s mother, Queen Yuan, was surnamed Xuan, given name Yuan, a descendant of the Xuanyuan clan. Lady Xuan Yuan had told Feng Jinye all this.

He didn’t realize at first that “Weishao” was another ancient family, until Weishao Qianyu recalled something from when she was six and mentioned Xingyuan. It dawned on Feng Jinye that she was the celestial maiden of the prophecy.

There was another line to the prophecy. Feng Jinye only knew it was related to the Xuanyuan clan, though he didn’t know the exact wording. Yet the term “celestial maiden” surely concerned the fate of the realm.

Feng Jinye even suspected that when Weishao Qianyu escaped harm at six, it wasn’t the disguise that fooled the assassins, but that the assassins intentionally spared her.

“When I returned to the Weishao ancestral home, I had Qingxia take Rui’er to the lake. It was clear—no way they could have missed me,” Weishao Qianyu said dully.

“We’re both caught in someone else’s schemes,” Feng Jinye replied.

Two lines of prophecy: one about the celestial maiden, the other surely about the realm. Was Feng Jinye not fighting to conquer the world for someone else?

“If so, doesn’t the greatest suspect become the Empress Dowager?” Weishao Qianyu said.

Feng Jinye shook his head. “I’ve considered it, but before my mother was assassinated, she told me to take Qingxuan to the Marquis of Xibo. At the time, she believed the Marquis was trustworthy.”

A sudden realization dawned on Weishao Qianyu—could this explain why the Empress Dowager understood Feng Jinye so thoroughly?

“What about Xingyuan?” Weishao Qianyu immediately thought of another clue.

“The master of Xingyuan is likely my aunt by blood,” Feng Jinye paused, lowering his gaze to Weishao Qianyu.