Feng Jiu’er was caught off guard for a moment. If not “Prince,” then what should she call him?

It seemed she used to call him “Ninth Imperial Uncle” — but wasn’t that overstepping some line?

Was her relationship with the Ninth Prince really intimate enough for that?

Back then, she had been nothing more than a medicinal catalyst, often having her blood drawn by the Prince.

Though the process had always carried a certain ambiguous tension, looking back on it now, it really had only ever been about saving him.

Could it be that, because their interactions back then had been somewhat charged, the Ninth Prince had misunderstood and thought she had feelings for him?

Did she have feelings for the Ninth Prince? She didn’t know.

But then again — no feelings at all? The Ninth Prince was the most handsome man under heaven; who could possibly resist his charm?

Truly no feelings whatsoever?

Feng Jiu’er’s expression suddenly shifted slightly, her brow furrowing tightly.

She raised a hand and gave her own head a light tap.

Mo Bai frowned. “What’s wrong? Does your head hurt?”

“Not… not exactly hurting. Just, I keep feeling like there’s something I can’t quite understand, some… strange feeling.”

“What kind of feeling? A feeling about the Prince?” The moment he’d returned, he’d heard the Prince say something was off about her — and indeed, this girl’s feelings toward the Ninth Prince did seem rather strange.

Watching her face slowly grow pale again, Mo Bai hesitated, then finally asked, “Miss Jiu’er, would you let me examine your head?”

…

In the main hall of the martial training hall, more than twenty students stood gathered at its center.

On the jade chair at the head of the hall, Zhan Qingcheng surveyed the crowd with a cold gaze.

Huo Yan stepped forward. “Your Highness, all of these twenty-some have wounds on their backs. I’ve had them brought here for your personal inspection.”

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing. Huo Yan looked at the men before him and said in a deep voice, “Come forward one by one, take off your robes, and let His Highness see your backs.”

These were all the students whose backs had shown clear wounds when checked at Juefeng Garden the night before. Huo Yan himself hadn’t been present at the time and didn’t know exactly how severe the “back wounds” the Prince had mentioned actually were.

So he had summoned every student whose back bore any obvious wound.

The only trouble was that Mu Mu was among them, which left Huo Yan somewhat uneasy.

Mu Mu’s skill was genuinely formidable — he was talent Huo Yan himself had personally selected as a core member. If the assassin really turned out to be him…

Mu Mu seemed to notice Huo Yan’s gaze settling on him. His face remained expressionless as he stepped forward and, with one broad sweep of his hand, tore off his own robe.

He turned, and his broad back came into Zhan Qingcheng’s view.

Not only Zhan Qingcheng — even Fang Zheng, seated not far from him, and Huo Yan, standing to the side, saw it clearly.

There were indeed wounds on Mu Mu’s back, though they had been there for some time — by the look of them, roughly ten days old.

The wounds had already scarred over, slowly healing.

But that wasn’t the point. The real issue was that Mu Mu’s entire back was crisscrossed, covered top to bottom with scars!

Huo Yan had already seen these scars the night before, but looking at them again now, he still felt a chill creep over his scalp.

Though each individual scar was only a surface wound, not enough to be fatal, the overall sight was still genuinely jarring.

This — these looked like marks left from punishment, from being struck with a whip or a switch. The boy looked so clean-cut; why would he have endured so much punishment?

“Your Highness, he—”

Zhan Qingcheng waved a hand. Huo Yan immediately said, “Mu Mu, put your clothes back on.”

Mu Mu said nothing, turned and gave Zhan Qingcheng a nod, then pulled his robe back on and returned to his place.

“Next. Come up and remove your robe,” Huo Yan ordered at once.

The male student standing below Mu Mu stepped forward and, just as Mu Mu had, took off his robe.

One by one, the suspect students removed their robes. Zhan Qingcheng merely glanced at each casually before waving them off.

In the blink of an eye, ten students had already been checked, leaving only a dozen or so remaining.

Suddenly, a guard burst in from outside and dropped to one knee before Zhan Qingcheng. “Your Highness, the brothers of the Twelve are back.”

Fang Zheng rose to his feet, and Huo Yan went out personally to greet them.

Sure enough, it was the brothers of the Feilong Shi’er Qi, every one of them dusty and disheveled — clearly they had ridden back without a single stop along the way.

The Feilong Shi’er Qi had only come to see with their own eyes whether the Ninth Prince was safe. Seeing that he was well, and after paying their respects, they all withdrew.

It was clear every one of them was utterly exhausted — like Yu Jingfeng, no doubt planning to go back, wash up, eat something, and get some proper sleep.

After the Feilong Shi’er Qi brothers left, the tense atmosphere in the hall returned.

Everyone knew there had been an assassin at the training hall the night before — what they hadn’t expected was that the target had been the Ninth Prince, who had secretly returned ahead of schedule.

When they’d first arrived, no one had been especially nervous. But now, the tension was real.

If the assassin couldn’t be found, would everyone end up a suspect? After all, attempting to assassinate the Prince was an unforgivable crime!

If the assassin really couldn’t be found, wouldn’t everyone be implicated?

The most popular saying in the imperial family was: better to wrongly kill a hundred than let one go free. What if they all ended up paying the price together?

Huo Yan’s gaze landed on Xing Zizhou. “Come up, take off your robe.”

Xing Zizhou stepped forward. As it turned out, this entire dormitory’s luck was particularly bad — three of them had wounds on their backs.

But then, considering they’d followed Feng Jiu’er out on missions before, facing one hardship after another, wasn’t it only natural they’d get hurt?

Just as Xing Zizhou was about to remove his robe, another guard burst in from outside and dropped to his knees before Zhan Qingcheng. “Your Highness, an imperial edict has arrived!”

Outside, the eunuch was already waiting.

Fang Zheng rose at once and bowed toward Zhan Qingcheng. “Your Highness, perhaps we should let the palace messenger in first.”

When others received an imperial edict, they would go out to greet it. Only for the Ninth Prince did the eunuch always wait to be summoned in.

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing, but didn’t object either. Huo Yan immediately said, “All of you have wounds on your backs — for the next two days, you’re to remain confined here in the training hall.”

If the Ninth Prince had to receive an imperial edict, it likely meant something urgent in the palace, and there might not be time today to investigate these students further.

And since all of them were under suspicion, they would have to be confined here for now. As for what exactly counted as a “back wound,” that would have to wait until the Prince had time to personally interrogate them.

Not one of those below dared to voice any objection.

Huo Yan had them escorted to separate rooms, posted guards to watch over them, and only then was the hall finally cleared.

The eunuch entered at once, walked up to Zhan Qingcheng, bowed, and said, “Greetings, Your Highness.”

Seeing no response from the Prince, the eunuch took out the edict and began to read it aloud: “By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees…”

“Get to the point.” Zhan Qingcheng was growing impatient — he had no patience for such elaborate formalities. The eunuch, already used to the Ninth Prince’s temperament, said at once, “Your Highness, His Majesty requests that you come to the palace to discuss matters of state.”