This area with orange trees is the backyard of the Xiuluo Guard.
Generally, the Xiu Luo Envoys don’t come here.
Perhaps because of this, someone quietly sneaks in from the back door.
Feng Fuce glanced at Bai Zhi’er.
His cold eyes were immersed in thought.
Just for a moment, Feng Fuce picked up Bai Zhi’er and quickly walked out.
The little one abruptly stopped humming her song, her tiny voice exclaimed, "Brother Juzi, where are we going!"
As soon as Bai Zhi’er finished speaking, a warm sweet potato was stuffed into her hand.
And in her palm, the other person quickly and urgently left three words—
At this moment, even Feng Fuce himself didn’t notice.
The handkerchief covering Bai Zhi’er’s eyes loosened due to not being tied tightly enough, sliding slowly down a bit.
The little one could vaguely see the color of the clothes of the person holding her.
Like ink on a snowy day.
Bai Zhi’er clutched the sweet potato, her round little face deep in thought.
The eunuchs in the palace wore dark blue clothes.
Why was this Brother Juzi wearing black?
Feng Fuce placed Bai Zhi’er in the stone forest, turned around, and vanished in the blink of an eye into the winding gaps.
So quickly that the little one hurriedly pulled off the handkerchief.
The surroundings were already empty.
"So fast..." The little one puffed her cheeks, puzzled and confused.
But the sweet potato in her hand was too enticing, so Bai Zhi’er temporarily put all her doubts aside.
As she walked towards the Ruizhu Palace, she cheerfully peeled and savored the sweet potato.
Meanwhile, Feng Fuce returned to the rear courtyard of the Xiuluo Guard.
The long sword in his hand gleamed coldly.
The young man walked through the orange grove step by step, leisurely and casually, as if strolling.
But his gaze was extremely sharp.
Feng Fuce inspected every orange tree, using his senses to search for the intruder’s hiding spot.
He had the chance to act earlier, but with Bai Zhi’er present, it was inconvenient.
Deep down, Feng Fuce was somewhat unwilling to reveal his identity in front of her.
However, his cold eyes scanned around again, failing to find the person.
Perhaps they had escaped.
Feng Fuce returned to the prison within the Xiuluo Guard.
Today’s guard happened to be Chu Ping.
"Anyone suspicious come by?" Feng Fuce asked coolly.
Chu Ping was a bit puzzled and shook his head, "No one has visited."
Feng Fuce brushed past him and walked towards the mortuary where Lixiang’s body was stored.
The corpse still lay there as before.
There was no unfamiliar aura in the cell either.
It seems the intruder indeed escaped.
Thinking of this, Feng Fuce let out a cold laugh.
Chu Ping couldn’t fathom what his lord was thinking.
He only saw him holding a bright orange persimmon.
Chu Ping said ecstatically, "My lord, that persimmon looks sweet. If you don’t want it, can I have it? I’ve just finished my shift and I’m still hungry."
Feng Fuce turned his eyes sideways, giving him a cold look.
"Who said I’m not eating it?" He took a bite of the persimmon in front of Chu Ping and then turned away.
Leaving Chu Ping astounded behind him.
"The marquis actually eats?"
He had been by Feng Fuce’s side for almost two years and had never seen him eat a normal meal.
A long time ago, when the Xiuluo Guard dined at an inn, everyone was eating heartily, drinking frequently.
Only Feng Fuce sat in his place, leaning against the chair with his eyes closed.
When invited to eat, he said he wasn’t hungry; when asked to drink, he said he didn’t partake.
It made the atmosphere very tense.
After that, there was a rumor circulating privately among the Xiuluo Guard—
The Marquis Wan lives by drinking water, not eating food.
This made those who were already in awe of Feng Fuce even more reverent and fearful.