Chapter Eight: A Subtle Night's Duel

“If I told you that Huangfu Chen sent me to assassinate you, would you believe it?” Wei Spoon’s voice was calm, though she knew Feng Jin Ye would never trust her words, yet she replied nonetheless. He was the only one she bothered to explain herself to.

“Stop making up stories.” Feng Jin Ye’s voice was sharp, unwavering. It was impossible for Huangfu Chen to want him dead.

“You see? You ask me, I answer, and yet you refuse to believe me. What is the point?” Wei Spoon smiled faintly. Though her smile was hidden beneath her veil, it lingered in her eyes, and Feng Jin Ye caught a hint of it.

She simply loved to tease him.

“You said you hated me, that you tried to kill me because of your father’s death, blaming me for bringing ruin upon your family,” Feng Jin Ye recalled the words she had spoken during her attempt.

The memory of her saying, “Feng Jin Ye, I hate you,” still pained him, and he resisted asking her why she had uttered, “Whether he lives or dies, it’s no concern of mine.”

“Yes, you know there’s something suspicious about my father’s death, and you suspect I have ties to Xiyan Kingdom, suspect that I failed to kill you only because I returned for vengeance, isn’t that right?” Wei Spoon spoke with an easy air, as if the matter weighed nothing.

She understood every one of Feng Jin Ye’s doubts. Looking up, she asked softly, “So what good does it do for me to explain?”

“Give me your account—whether it’s believable, I will judge for myself.” Feng Jin Ye’s fingers tapped lightly, a habit of his, while the assassin clasped her teacup. He was wary of Wei Spoon, but he wanted to hear her explanation.

“Yes, Huangfu Chen sent me to kill you.” Wei Spoon replied calmly, giving Feng Jin Ye her answer, though inwardly she mused: He must suspect I’m here to sow discord between him and Huangfu Chen.

Feng Jin Ye was momentarily speechless, tightening his grip on the teacup. After a long pause, he finally asked, “You and Huangfu Chen… have known each other for a while?”

“Yes.” Wei Spoon and Huangfu Chen had indeed met five years ago.

“Was it five years ago?” Feng Jin Ye probed, reluctant to hear her answer. He had been comatose five years prior.

He almost didn’t want to hear her reply, but Wei Spoon had already answered, “Yes.”

Why was he so unwilling? Feng Jin Ye couldn’t understand himself; his emotions spiraled out of control, and he shouted, “So if Huangfu Chen asked you to assassinate me, you just did it?”

She had known Huangfu Chen for five years, just as Chu Jiu had said. Feng Jin Ye felt ill at ease, his left hand clenched into a fist, his right carefully keeping the teacup from breaking; he was agitated.

Wei Spoon was startled by his reaction and felt a pang of guilt for Huangfu Chen. “Do you actually believe Huangfu Chen sent me to kill you?”

Feng Jin Ye was only angry in the moment. He and Huangfu Chen had shared life-and-death trials; he would never easily believe a stranger and suspect his old friend.

He remembered how, at thirteen, he and Huangfu Chen accompanied the late emperor on the campaign against Xiyan Kingdom, where assassinations were routine. During the campaign, the crown prince left to govern Yuedu and was killed.

Feng Jin Ye and Huangfu Chen, obeying the emperor’s command, escorted the second prince back to the capital. On the journey, they faced several assassin attacks. Outside Yuedu, Feng Jin Ye nearly lost his life, but Huangfu Chen took a blade and an arrow for him. Afterwards, they were rescued by a father and daughter heading for the capital.

Feng Jin Ye suddenly looked up at Wei Spoon. She had tended his wounds back then. Her eyes were so familiar.

Huangfu Chen was gravely injured, and the middle-aged man treated his wounds, calling out, “Spoon, come bandage this brother’s wound.”

Wei Spoon was the quiet girl from that time!

Feng Jin Ye remembered it vividly. The young girl lifted the curtain and gently blew on his wounded arm—an act of tenderness he had never experienced before.

“Spoon”—that was the name. How could he forget, when it had echoed in his dreams for years?

Suddenly, Feng Jin Ye realized why the words “Feng Jin Ye, I hate you” haunted his sleep, and why “Whether he lives or dies, it’s no concern of mine” made his chest ache. It was because of her!

His injuries hadn’t been severe, and after escorting the prince to the capital, he returned to the border. Huangfu Chen stayed in Yuedu to recover, and when he was well, he went to thank their benefactors. Huangfu Chen later said the girl who rescued them was surnamed Lu.

Feng Jin Ye had searched for her for seven years! He had almost visited every household surnamed Lu in Yuedu.

“When did you meet Huangfu Chen?” Feng Jin Ye didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t help himself, repeating the question.

“Five years ago.” Wei Spoon found his behavior odd—hadn’t she just told him?

“You…” Do you remember me? Feng Jin Ye left the question unspoken.

His tone softened suddenly. “I’ve locked your cousin in Qinglan Courtyard.”

“I won’t take concubines, nor will I appoint a secondary consort.” For the first time, Feng Jin Ye harbored the reckless desire to keep her by his side.

“If I send her away, will you return with me?” His confidence faltered, and his words carried a note of entreaty.

Wei Spoon didn’t understand why Feng Jin Ye suddenly showed weakness. But she hadn’t forgotten how, twenty days ago, he had used concubines to humiliate her. She retorted angrily, “Isn’t the War Prince marrying the legitimate daughter of the Lu family? Isn’t it Lu Yanran? Why should Spoon return with you to the War Prince’s manor?”

Feng Jin Ye’s mind was in turmoil, unable to decipher the hidden meaning in her words. Dispirited, he asked, “You truly don’t wish to return?”

“If you don’t want to be my princess, I won’t force you.” Without waiting for Wei Spoon’s reply, Feng Jin Ye left.

He was clearly at a loss. Wei Spoon suspected the man before her was not the Feng Jin Ye she knew.

Downstairs, Chu Jiu immediately sensed something was amiss with their prince. Feng Jin Ye mounted his horse without a word and galloped away.

Chu Jiu was left behind, bewildered.

Upstairs, Winter Warm slipped into Wei Spoon’s room. “Mistress, the War Prince seems off!”

“He is behaving strangely, I can’t make sense of him,” Wei Spoon murmured, pacing.

“Mistress, it looked like the prince headed for the western outskirts,” Winter Warm observed Wei Spoon’s concern and offered the information.

Wei Spoon didn’t react, so Winter Warm pressed further. “Mistress, with the prince gone, how will you return to the manor? If he doesn’t escort you, you’d have to shamelessly walk back—how embarrassing!”

But Wei Spoon wasn’t listening. She was wondering: What had happened to Feng Jin Ye?

A possibility struck her, and she grabbed Winter Warm’s arm. “Do you think Feng Jin Ye remembered something?”

Winter Warm was puzzled. “Mistress, if you can’t figure him out, how could I? Shall we go ask?”

Wei Spoon nodded, her usual composure gone. She couldn’t fathom what Feng Jin Ye might have recalled.

Winter Warm asked, “Do you know where he went?”

“Yes. When I irritate him, he usually goes to the barracks to spar, or to Maple Grove to practice his sword,” Wei Spoon replied.

Winter Warm muttered inwardly: So you know you vex him?

According to Winter Warm, Feng Jin Ye hadn’t been to the barracks for half a year. Wei Spoon guessed he’d be at Maple Grove.

Sure enough, before Wei Spoon even approached, she could hear the sound of a sword slicing through the air.

“Winter Warm, do you think I can beat him this time?” Wei Spoon knew in her heart she only managed to learn a tenth of Feng Jin Ye’s swordsmanship. In past bouts, she always won by cheating.

Feng Jin Ye sensed someone approaching and turned to see Wei Spoon and Winter Warm. His expression darkened.

Wei Spoon gave a false smile. As Feng Jin Ye turned to leave, she called out, “Weren’t you curious about my sword skills? Come, let’s spar!”

No sooner had she spoken than with a clang, Winter Warm’s sword left its sheath and landed in Wei Spoon’s hand. She thrust at Feng Jin Ye, and though he could have easily disarmed her, his body moved instinctively, causing him to retreat.

Wei Spoon pressed him under a maple tree. Feng Jin Ye sidestepped her first attack, the sunlight flashing off the blade, dazzling her. She felt a moment of panic, as if she was back in the days when he taught her swordplay.

“Is that all you can do?” Feng Jin Ye watched the spirited woman and laughed, wild and carefree.

Wei Spoon was not embarrassed. She laughed back, “And you have the nerve to mock me?”

If Wei Spoon knew only one move, it reflected poorly on Feng Jin Ye—after all, she nearly killed him with it.

Feng Jin Ye was flustered. Wei Spoon seized the opportunity and launched a three-move assault, swift and relentless. He realized he had underestimated her.

Her final strike came from behind. Feng Jin Ye anticipated her move and prepared to block—

But Wei Spoon tossed away her sword and charged. Feng Jin Ye’s body moved faster than his mind; he released his grip and the sword fell to the ground.

Wei Spoon leapt onto his back, her head resting on his left shoulder, a dagger pressed to his throat. Before he could move his right shoulder, she whispered plaintively in his ear, “Are you going to throw me off?”

Feng Jin Ye froze. Wei Spoon clung to him, bold and unrestrained, continuing, “If you dare…”

Before she finished, Feng Jin Ye grabbed her wrist—the one holding the dagger—and pulled her into his arms.

Wei Spoon anticipated this and produced another dagger with her right hand, smiling as she patted his face.

Looking at her, Feng Jin Ye’s heart raced uncontrollably. The person he had searched for so many years was finally in his arms, and a wild thought took root in his mind.

In the past, Wei Spoon would always say, “You’re not allowed to be angry.”

But now, her mind was blank.

The scuffle had loosened her veil. A cold wind lifted it, and she hurriedly covered her face, pushing Feng Jin Ye aside as she made her way toward Maple Retreat.

Feng Jin Ye stood stunned. He had glimpsed the scar on her cheek—who had wounded her?

Wei Spoon was flustered. She summoned Winter Warm, rearranged her hair, and secured her veil before stepping outside. Feng Jin Ye was still rooted in place.

Wei Spoon approached. Feng Jin Ye finally came to his senses and asked, “Did you come looking for me?”

She turned her head, unwilling to admit it—how embarrassing.

Feng Jin Ye, seeing her silent, asked again, “Are you willing to return to the manor with me?”

Winter Warm was anxious for her mistress. “My lady has neither name nor status. Why go to the War Prince’s manor?”

Feng Jin Ye suddenly understood. “It was you who married me by ceremony. Naturally, you are the Princess of War!”