Word had spread that an assassin had come to the Martial Practice Hall that night. Although most people didn’t know who the intended target was, the guards had already surrounded Juefeng Courtyard.
Seeing Feng Jiu’er approach, the lead guard frowned: “General Feng, it’s this late — is something the matter?”
“I’m going in to find someone.” Feng Jiu’er said evenly.
The guard hesitated, but in the end let her through.
Inside, the search was already underway. As Jiu’er passed by, she overheard some of the talk.
The assassin had a wound on the back?
She walked straight to the door of Mu Mu and the others’ room. Before she could even knock, the door suddenly opened from inside.
“Looking for me?” Mu Mu’s eyes were calm and gentle, betraying nothing unusual.
He glanced briefly outside, then said, “Come in. They’re searching for the assassin out there — it’s not really convenient for you to be around right now.”
At a time like this, with everyone trying to distance themselves from suspicion, it wasn’t wise to be seen here.
She had originally been staying in Mingyue Courtyard, with no connection whatsoever to Juefeng Courtyard — if she just kept her distance, nothing would happen to her.
But showing up now, at a time like this, could easily give people grounds for suspicion.
“I won’t come in. I just wanted to ask you something.” Jiu’er looked up at him.
Inside, Xing Zizhou and Dan Yidao stood properly dressed, waiting to be questioned. Seeing Feng Jiu’er standing at the door, the two of them looked a little puzzled but made no other move.
Mu Mu lowered his eyes to look at Feng Jiu’er, his tone still gentle: “What is it?”
Feng Jiu’er looked at him; she wasn’t even sure herself why she’d felt she had to come find him, and now, she suddenly felt there was no need after all.
“Never mind, I just came to see you. I’ll go now.”
Xing Zizhou chuckled from behind them: “Who would have thought our General Feng could be this devoted — can’t even bear to be apart for a single night.”
Jiu’er shot him a sidelong glance: “I heard they’re searching for an assassin — were you wounded on the back?”
That question made Mu Mu’s brow furrow slightly.
Feng Jiu’er watched him as well. Mu Mu lowered his eyes toward her and smiled faintly: “Do you suspect me?”
Was that question meant deliberately, for him to hear?
Mu Mu wasn’t angry — quite the opposite, there was a hint of amusement hidden in his eyes.
“The assassin’s skill was very high.” Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together, looking up at him, clearly wanting to say more but holding back.
He was, after all, some Young Lord of his sect, whose master was the Sect Leader. Although she knew well enough that the martial world had countless sects, open and hidden alike, too many to count, she still couldn’t help but feel that the Sect Leader and Elder Shi seemed mysterious beyond measure.
What’s more, she had clearly overheard them mentioning the Ninth Prince that day, and urging Mu Mu not to miss the opportunity.
What opportunity, exactly?
His master had later said something about Mu Mu needing to earn merit in front of the Prince — words so vague and dismissive that Feng Jiu’er certainly didn’t believe them.
But… could Mu Mu really intend harm against the Ninth Prince?
Yet, having seen him just now, the doubt in her heart faded away again.
Whatever Mu Mu’s reasons for approaching the Ninth Prince might be, at the very least, tonight’s assassin was certainly not him.
Mu Mu would never use poison. Given his character, if he meant to assassinate someone, he would use his own true skill — using poison was something he would absolutely never do.
“Is being skilled in combat the same as being me? Is that meant as praise or mockery?” Mu Mu asked with a smile.
Feng Jiu’er didn’t bother responding. She turned and walked away.
Coming here tonight really had been a bit of an overreaction on her part — she usually wasn’t like this.
Her mood tonight was truly chaotic — the Ninth Prince had returned, the Ninth Prince had been attacked, she had suspected Mu Mu… why had she suspected Mu Mu at all? Mu Mu was so good to her…
…
The next morning, two more people arrived at the Dragon Martial Academy.
“Greetings, Your Highness!” Yu Jingfeng and Mo Bai, both travel-worn and weary, looked exhausted — especially Mo Bai, whose skill wasn’t as strong as Yu Jingfeng’s, and who looked as though he might collapse at any moment.
Yet he held on, determined not to let himself relax until he had made it all the way back.
“Your Highness, this subordinate knows his crime. Please, punish this subordinate.”
Mo Bai knelt on the ground, his head bowed low, his breathing ragged and uneven, looking as though he might fall over at any second.
Yu Jingfeng was in slightly better shape, his breathing not quite as disordered, though his complexion looked far from good.
From the looks of it, the two of them had endured the same ordeal as the Ninth Prince on his way back — likely not having eaten so much as a mouthful of rice in three days and four nights.
The Ninth Prince had rushed back in urgency; they, in turn, had rushed to catch up with him, terrified that something might happen to him along the way.
With even Yu Jingfeng having returned, the rest of the Twelve Riders of the Soaring Dragon would likely arrive soon as well.
Zhan Qingcheng looked at Mo Bai kneeling on the ground, his eyes utterly devoid of emotion.
Although the fault in this matter did not lie with him, he, too, could not escape responsibility.
“Your Highness, I beg you to punish me!” Mo Bai pressed both hands against the floor; if not for that support, he likely wouldn’t have been able to hold himself up at all.
He felt guilt in his heart, and bitterness too. It was only by sheer miracle that Feng Jiu’er had survived — otherwise, he would never have been able to face the Prince.
Even now, he felt he had no face to show the Prince, unless the Prince was willing to punish him — even execution, he would accept it willingly.
Otherwise, he could not go on living!
“Your Highness, this subordinate is also at fault! This subordinate should not have kept it hidden from you!” Yu Jingfeng knelt beside Mo Bai.
The two of them had rushed back in such urgency for the sole purpose of confessing their wrongdoing to the Prince and begging for punishment!
Fang Zheng looked at the Prince seated in his chair, clearly wanting to say something but holding back.
The state the two men were in was truly poor, especially the Divine Physician Mo Bai, whose utterly bloodless face looked impossibly fragile.
If he kept kneeling like this much longer, he might collapse at any moment.
Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze settled on the two of them, his expression as unreadable as ever, a face frozen for a thousand years showing not the slightest hint of feeling.
“Fang Zheng.”
“Your Highness, this subordinate is here.”
“Have something prepared.”
“Your Highness?” Fang Zheng didn’t quite catch his meaning at first, but after glancing at Yu Jingfeng and Mo Bai, he suddenly understood. “Yes, this subordinate will go prepare it now.”
Mo Bai and Yu Jingfeng still didn’t understand what the Prince meant. Having committed such a grave offense, surely the Prince couldn’t simply let it go unpunished.
The Prince hadn’t punished them on the spot only because, upon hearing that Feng Jiu’er was heading back to the imperial capital, he himself had rushed off in haste.
At the time, there had been no time, nor any thought to spare for it.
Now that everyone had returned, whatever punishment was due ought to be properly carried out.
The two men knelt on the ground, with no idea at all what the Prince was thinking.
After a long, unknown stretch of silence, Zhan Qingcheng suddenly spoke: “Something’s not right with that girl.”
Not right? Could it be that Miss Jiu’er still hadn’t fully recovered?
“Your Highness…”
“This prince commands you — within one day, give this prince an answer. Why does she know this prince, yet look at him with such unfamiliar eyes?”
This was a question he had spent the better part of the night pondering.
The reason he hadn’t gone to find Feng Jiu’er directly in the latter half of last night was simply because he had clearly seen — the unfamiliarity in her eyes was real.
Having regained what he thought he had lost was already more than enough cause for relief; he didn’t want to frighten that girl any further, not at this moment.
But if Feng Jiu’er had truly lost her memory, then why did she still remember him?
Mo Bai’s heart was still filled with doubt, but he knew this much — if there was anyone the Prince could be so deeply concerned about, there was no one else but her. Could it be that something had truly gone wrong with Miss Jiu’er’s body?