Mu Mu did not know how long he had knelt in the side hall. By the time he returned, Feng Jiu’er had already regained consciousness and was struggling with great effort to push herself up from the bed.

But it was to no avail — this time Elder Shi had sealed her pressure points again, and on top of that, the violent reversal of her true energy had damaged her heart meridian. She was now even more fragile than before.

At the sound of someone pushing open the door, she did not so much as glance over. She continued straining to pull herself upright.

In her determination to rise, she even resorted to channeling her true energy — the only result being a deepening of her injuries, with another thread of blood seeping from the corner of her lip.

Mu Mu closed the door behind him with one hand. His footsteps fell with a steady, unhurried weight — so utterly devoid of any human warmth that Jiu’er had no choice but to raise her head and meet his gaze.

He stood at the edge of the bed now, looking down at her from above. Yet in this moment, every trace of the familiar presence she had come to know in his eyes was gone — completely and without remainder.

Feng Jiu’er only looked back at him with an even, unhurried gaze. She did not speak. There was no resentment in her eyes.

Even if he had deceived her, she herself had deceived him too — in that regard, the matter was even between them.

Only the bond of sentiment and loyalty — from this point forward, that would never exist again.

Mu Mu sat down at the edge of the bed and extended his hand.

“What are you doing?” Feng Jiu’er’s voice was still hoarse. She tried to pull away, but her strength failed her, and she fell back against the bed.

“What am I doing?” A faint cold smile pulled at the corner of Mu Mu’s lips. That smile cut straight into her heart like a blade.

So cold.

She had never seen this side of Mu Mu — this coldness. Now she realized that when he turned cold, there was something genuinely frightening about it.

Mu Mu extended his hand still, his long fingers settling at the corner of her lip, wiping away that thin thread of blood.

But just as Feng Jiu’er let out a quiet breath of relief, his eyes suddenly darkened. His broad palm fell upon the front of her robe, and with one forceful sweep—

A ripping sound rang out. Jiu’er’s garments were torn away in great part, her pale, fair shoulders exposed to the air. A strange, biting chill.

“You…”

“Is this not how I appear in your heart?” Mu Mu suddenly leaned in, pressing her beneath him. “Now I am merely returning to what was always there beneath the surface.”

“You — Mu Mu! Let go! Let go of me!”

He was truly pressing upon her — fully, in every sense — stripping away her garments one by one. In a moment, his broad palm settled at her waist, tearing fiercely at the last remaining sash.

“Let go of me!” Jiu’er had never known a panic like this, because she knew — this time, Mu Mu was in earnest.

“Why… let go, let go… if you dare touch me, I will not let you go. I will absolutely never forgive you!”

“Then use your heart — hate me with everything you have — and even in hatred, at least you will remember me for the rest of your life!”

He bit down hard on her shoulder.

Jiu’er’s tears sprang forth instantly from the pain. Her shoulder burned, raw and stinging — he had broken the skin with his teeth.

He was in earnest — with the most brutish cruelty, he meant to make her entirely his in the most absolute way.

She gave up struggling. There was no stopping this anyway.

This grudge — this hatred — she would keep it locked inside her heart. She would remember it for the rest of her life.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye, tracing the pale curve of her face, and entered his line of sight.

He almost reached out to catch it. His fingers had barely lifted when he forced them back, ruthlessly.

Let it be this way. Hate him — but she need not hate him for too long. Just a little while, and it would fade.

That way she could forget. That way, forever, there would be no guilt and unease — forever, she would no longer think of him again…

He lowered his head, pressing his lips to her neck. From outside, footsteps arrived precisely on cue: “Young Lord, the lord requests your presence.”

Feng Jiu’er stared wide-eyed at the man who had almost destroyed her honor as he rose from above her.

He only looked at her once more, then turned and left.

Until the door was shut, Jiu’er finally raised her hand and pressed it to the corner of her eye.

What she wiped away when she lowered her hand was a back of tears.

It turned out that when she was truly, genuinely afraid, she also cried. She also became weak. She also fell into despair.

Was this heaven’s mercy? In that final moment, he had in the end not succeeded.

Before long, the door was pushed open once more — but this time, the one who entered was the Night Demon.

At the sight of Feng Jiu’er still lying on the bed, her garments disordered and her appearance disheveled, the Night Demon was satisfied.

She casually sealed Jiu’er’s pressure points, then pulled a robe that belonged to Mu Mu from the room divider screen and draped it over her.

“Your Ninth Imperial Uncle has come. Shall I take you to see him now?” She smiled with ease, and with almost no effort at all, lifted Feng Jiu’er effortlessly into her arms.

“What do you intend to do to the Ninth Imperial Uncle?” Feng Jiu’er’s heart went cold. The thing she had feared most had finally arrived.

They had always meant to use her against the Ninth Imperial Uncle — that intention had never changed from the very beginning.

The Night Demon did not answer her question. Once outside, she transferred Feng Jiu’er directly to Elder Shi’s arms.

Feng Jiu’er looked up, and the very first thing her eyes found was the long sword in Mu Mu’s hand.

Fear and dread swept over her like a flood — all at once, she was submerged.

“Mu Mu — the Ninth Imperial Uncle is the hope of the common people of the border city. If you wound the Ninth Imperial Uncle, you wound the lives of countless thousands. Can you truly harden your heart to do this?”

In the wind, Mu Mu stood like a statue — without warmth, without feeling — erect and unmoving beneath the night sky, not a single part of him stirring.

Jiu’er drew in a deep breath. Her strength was nearly gone, but the words of persuasion she still refused to let stop.

“Mu Mu — I know that the common people still exist in your heart. For their sake, I beg you to spare the Ninth Imperial Uncle!”

That long sword — it was the ache at the very tip of her heart. That dream — it felt as vivid as something happening before her very eyes. Every time she recalled it, her heart convulsed with pain.

Mu Mu finally turned his head. His gaze settled on her.

He stepped toward her. Clearly still the same face, the same figure — yet the feeling he gave off was so entirely unlike before.

The Mu Mu of tonight — whether it was the cruelty of what he had nearly done to her just now, or the frigid, merciless gaze of this very moment — felt like a stranger in every way.

“Is it for the common people under heaven, or is it for yourself?”

His large hand tightened. The tip of the long sword, still encased in its scabbard, settled under Feng Jiu’er’s chin, and lifted her face.

“Rest assured — you are a Phoenix Woman. Whatever the future holds, I will absolutely not abandon you.”

“Mu Mu…”

“Do not lecture me about righteousness and principle!” Mu Mu’s expression suddenly hardened, and his voice turned dangerously cold. “When you harbored thoughts of betraying me, you should have foreseen that for the rest of this lifetime, I would not treat you with a sincere heart again!”

She bit her lip. Her face was held up by him — she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

Yet those deep, fathomless eyes of his — in this moment, they held nothing but cold, merciless indifference.

The Mu Mu of the past had completely disappeared. The Mu Mu standing before her now — his entire aura was like that of a demon lord, permeated in every direction with the scent of death.

But why — even though he was now so cold of heart and empty of feeling — when she looked into those eyes devoid of any warmth, did a nameless anguish rise inside her? More than before, and more unbearable?

Why was this aura of death so thick — thick enough to make the heart ache?