The long sword was sharp, its blade-edge bitterly cold, glinting a pale green in the glow of the night-luminous pearl.

The blade’s edge was laced with potent poison — clearly meant to kill on contact with blood.

Just as the tip of the sword was about to touch the artery at Zhan Qingcheng’s throat, the man who had been resting lightly against the headboard with his eyes closed suddenly snapped his star-bright eyes open.

He casually raised a hand; with a clear ring, his slender finger struck the blade of the sword, and the long sword was instantly knocked aside.

But the black-clad intruder was clearly no ordinary opponent either — the moment the sword tip was deflected, the wrist turned at once, redirecting the blade’s edge toward Zhan Qingcheng’s chest.

Zhan Qingcheng gave a light flick of his long sleeve. The motion seemed to carry no particular force, yet in an instant, a powerful, icy surge of true energy shot forward.

The black-clad figure twisted in midair, barely managing to dodge the strike.

The moment their feet touched the ground again, Zhan Qingcheng’s pale figure had already appeared right before them.

He thrust his five fingers like claws toward the black cloth covering the intruder’s face. The black-clad figure, startled by the wind-like speed of his movement, gasped and immediately stumbled backward.

But Zhan Qingcheng’s slender finger had already hooked onto the black cloth.

The cloth slipped silently into Zhan Qingcheng’s hand, and the black-clad figure immediately turned to leap toward the window.

Zhan Qingcheng didn’t bother to chase. He simply picked up a cup from somewhere and tossed it casually.

With a crisp sound, it struck the black-clad figure squarely on the back.

The figure, who had just leapt out the window, let out a muffled grunt and plummeted straight down from the second floor, landing on the ground with a thud.

The guards of the Dragon Martial Academy had already been alerted; seeing the black-clad figure fall, several guards rushed over at once, swords drawn.

By the time Feng Jiu’er rushed back at the sound of the commotion, she found Zhan Qingcheng’s pale, white-robed figure standing by the window, watching everything unfold in the courtyard below.

Seeing that he was unharmed, Jiu’er finally let out a deep breath of relief and hurried over to stand beside him, watching the scene in the courtyard below together with him.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, what happened? Was there an assassin?”

“Mm.” Zhan Qingcheng nodded, turning his head to look at her.

Feng Jiu’er, however, kept her eyes fixed below. She hadn’t expected the assassin’s skill to be this formidable — after driving back one of the guards, the figure leapt up from the ground and dashed swiftly toward another direction.

Feng Jiu’er tightened her grip and was about to leap out the window to help with the pursuit.

A sudden weight settled on her shoulder — his hand had come down, abruptly halting her movement.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, he’s getting away!” Jiu’er was anxious; how could they just let the black-clad figure escape like this?

“His sword carries poison. Someone below has already been struck.” The assassin’s skill was no small matter, and with a blade coated in deadly poison, it would be far too dangerous for Feng Jiu’er to chase after.

Hearing this, Jiu’er immediately looked down and indeed saw one of their men collapsed on his knees on the ground, his arm wounded by the blade, completely unable to get back up.

“Damn it!” Jiu’er bit her lip and slapped a palm against the windowsill, her slender frame leaping out through the window, landing lightly on the ground below.

It had been barely half a month, yet this girl’s lightness skill had already grown this formidable.

Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze stayed locked on her. The assassin would naturally be pursued by others; what interested him far more right now was this entirely new version of the girl before him.

Feng Jiu’er landed beside the wounded man, and seeing her, the others immediately nodded in acknowledgment: “General Feng.”

Jiu’er had neither the time nor the inclination to dwell on the matter of that title. She crouched down beside the wounded man at once, silver needles pinched between her fingers, swiftly working around his wound…

…

Few people knew that the Ninth Prince had returned, so the news that the Prince had been attacked did not spread either.

The information had been sealed off in the front courtyard by Huo Yan. Though Huo Yan was merely one of a dozen-odd commandants, having previously accompanied Feng Jiu’er on campaign had clearly elevated his standing among the academy’s commandants compared to the others.

Late into the night, Feng Jiu’er finally returned to the room where Zhan Qingcheng was staying.

He sat by the table, eating. His movements weren’t particularly unrefined, but once Jiu’er stepped inside, she found that an entire table’s worth of food had nearly been cleared away.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, how long has it been… since you last ate?”

“Three days.” Ever since leaving Phoenix City, in order to rush back as quickly as possible, he hadn’t stopped once along the way.

If his warhorse hadn’t been remarkably sturdy, even the horse might not have been able to endure these three days and nights.

After returning, he had originally meant to seek her out himself, but this girl didn’t seem to like him getting close to her in public, so he had held back and had Huo Yan bring her to him instead.

Then came the matter of the assassin. He had watched as she tended to the wounded guard and brought the poison under control before finally returning to this room.

A pang tightened in Feng Jiu’er’s chest: “Why haven’t you eaten in three days? Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

He said nothing, but the travel-worn, weary look about him remained plain to see even now.

She understood then — he must have been rushing back in such haste that he hadn’t even brought his army along.

She also began to understand, a little, that the reason he had rushed back so urgently was… perhaps to see her.

Tonight was his first night back, and he hadn’t gone to discuss any grand matters with important officials, nor taken on any so-called special mission — the moment he returned, he had Huo Yan bring her to him.

This depth of devotion left her feeling something she couldn’t quite name.

Feng Jiu’er took a deep breath, and once she saw he had nearly finished eating, she changed the subject: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, does anyone else know you’ve returned?”

To be attacked the very moment he came back — why did the assassin know his whereabouts so precisely?

His return was something even the Dragon Martial Academy itself barely knew about — so how had the assassin found out?

“Before this, only Huo Yan.”

“Commandant Huo… impossible. The assassin had only just left when Commandant Huo rushed over right after. It absolutely couldn’t have been him.”

No lightness skill, no matter how exceptional, could allow someone to leave in one direction and then return from another within moments, let alone in a completely different set of clothes.

Not to mention that the assassin still had men from the Dragon Martial Academy chasing close behind — where would he have found the time to hide away and change clothes before coming back?

The assassin definitely couldn’t be Huo Yan. But then, who else knew the Ninth Prince had returned?

This person had to be deeply embedded within the Dragon Martial Academy — otherwise, there was no way everything could have been prepared so perfectly right at the moment of the Ninth Prince’s return!

Huo Yan and the Academician Fang Zheng arrived and reported to Zhan Qingcheng: “Your Highness, the assassin slipped into Juefeng Courtyard and then vanished without a trace.”

Juefeng Courtyard! Wasn’t that where the newest class of male students resided? Could tonight’s assassin be one of the new students?

Feng Jiu’er suddenly thought of something, her palm clenching tight in an instant, even her expression shifting slightly. “Your… Ninth Imperial Uncle, I still have an urgent matter to attend to. I… I’ll take my leave first!”