Page 58 of Dynasty of the Wicked

“I am,” she croaked, straightening. She peered over at the man, and quickly averted her gaze when he turned to her.

“We should all chat once you’re both recovered,” the man said, still smiling. “It’s good to have you back, Feng Mian.”

Feng Mian only nodded back.

A woman with bone-straight, shoulder-length hair came to stand beside the man, a grin twisting her thin lips. “Yes, Feng Mian, good to see you.”

Feng Mian scowled. “Just lead the way, Lanying.”

The woman, Lanying, flashed her snaggletoothed smile at Zhi Ruo and waved them both forward. Feng Mian remained rooted in place and Zhi Ruo had to tug him in her direction. There were probably too many people for him to know who was who, and what meant what. They followed the woman through the crowds; people stared at them as they went, and a few greeted Feng Mian, who grunted a response back.

“You’ve lost so much weight,” Lanying said, glancing over her shoulder at them. She had a sword strapped to her waist and metal armor that shone like it was brand-new. “And who are you, by the way?”

Zhi Ruo opened her mouth to say something, but Feng Mian was quicker. “My wife.”

Lanying gasped, spinning around to face them, eyes wide. “Wife?”

“Yes,” he gritted out, a scowl forming on his face. “No need to sound so shocked.”

“Well, Iamshocked.” The woman placed a hand on her chest. “Who, in their right mind, would want to marryyou?”

“Fuck you, Lanying,” he snapped.

Lanying giggled and parted the flap of one of the tents open, ushering them inside. Lines of unused beds filled the tent. An old man with a hunched back sat at the end of the tent on a stool, his leathered fingers unfurling a yellowed scroll. Upon their entrance, he glanced over at them, his bushy brows pushing further up his crinkled forehead.

“Ah, Lady Lanying,” he said, squinting at the both of them with a gasp. “Lord Zheng! Oh my, I heard you were captured?” He jumped to his feet and waved to the beds. “Please, have a seat. Both of you.” Then to Lanying. “Allof you.”

Lanying plopped down one of the thin mattresses while Feng Mian helped Zhi Ruo onto the one closest to them. He motioned to Zhi Ruo, his mouth pursed into a straight line. “She’s nauseous.”

“Oh?” The older man shifted his brown eyes to her. “Pregnancy, perhaps?”

Zhi Ruo’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and even Feng Mian stiffened. “Not possible,” she said with a short laugh, while Lanying watched them both carefully, no longer grinning.

“Not possible?” the old man asked.

“Yes.” Her cheeks grew hot as everyone stared at her. She didn’t know much about pregnancy, but seeing as how she had lost her virginity just last night, she doubted she could be pregnant this soon. It just wasn’t possible.

“It’s because I warped her here.” Feng Mian shifted on his feet, a sudden tiredness on his face. He slowly lowered himself on the empty bed beside her. “We were fighting Wyer’s forces and I had no choice but to summon the ghouls. It … it all happened so fast, and I had to warp us here.”

“Ghouls?” All the color drained from Lanying’s face. “Why did you?—”

“It’s a long, long story.” He sighed, and Zhi Ruo’s discomfort rose.

They were in a war camp, with people who clearly knew him, and she was … an outsider to it all. She had known, of course, that Feng Mian had a life outside of her, and that he belonged to some sort of military unit, but seeing him like this, talking to these people who she didn’t even know, made her feel uneasy. It made her realize that she didn’t really know much about him at all.

Lanying tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and Zhi Ruo noticed the lines of rings pierced along the shell of her ear, all of them glimmering bright silver even in the dim lighting of the tent.

“We can talk about the details later,” Lanying said. “But why didn’t you warp here sooner? We’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Not sick enough,” he said with a scoff.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snapped, his lips curling into a frown. “Where the fuck were you all when I was rotting in that prison cell?”

She reeled back, two splotches of red coloring her cheeks. “Well, we were fighting awar, Feng Mian.”

“You were probably fucking Chanming the whole time, while I was getting tortured by those bastards.”

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