They spent an entire night in the dense forest.

Throughout the whole night, nothing actually happened — Feng Jiu’er sat to one side while Zhan Qingcheng watched her in silence.

Occasionally, Jiu’er would share some amusing story with him, such as tales about Feng Yinan, the capable assistant she had recently taken back into her service.

When she reached the cheerful parts of a story, she would sometimes glance back at him involuntarily, yet each time it was no more than a fleeting look before she immediately averted her gaze.

Until the Gu Poison of Heartlessness was broken, she still could not allow herself to be too reckless — otherwise, the one who would suffer would be herself.

As for Zhan Qingcheng, he kept his gaze fixed on her face the entire time, his eyes never straying for even a moment.

As though he could never look his fill, as though he would never tire of looking.

Jiu’er knew he was watching her, but she dared not dwell on it, dared not let herself think too deeply — so she would quickly change the subject.

To things like her medical chain plan, or the kindness Nanmen Rong had shown her, or the matter of Mu Mu losing his memory.

But as for why she had suddenly left in the first place, she never said a single word about it, and he never asked.

A wordless understanding — it was not merely a saying. Sometimes, it truly existed.

And so, gradually, the sky began to lighten. The moment of parting was drawing near.

Feng Jiu’er stood up, raised her head to read the sky, and said softly: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, go back. Go back to your army. Leave matters here to me — I can definitely handle it.”

He could not remain in Meherke for too long. His identity carried far too much weight. No one knew whether agents of the Nanmen Clan and Emperor Qiwen were still lurking within Meherke’s borders.

Every one of those people would love nothing more than to see the Ninth Prince dead somewhere far from home.

To say nothing of the Meherke people themselves.

If word got out that the Ninth Prince was currently within Meherke’s territory, countless enemies would come for him — assassination by blade, by ambush, by poison — any method was possible.

The Ninth Prince had separated from his army. This was a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity to kill him. Every second he spent here was another second of danger.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, listen to me — go back. Won’t you?”

He said nothing. He simply kept his gaze fixed on her profile, wanting to reach out and touch her face, yet afraid that doing so would cause her suffering.

Never in his life had he treated anyone with such careful, painstaking tenderness — protecting her with his whole heart, unable to afford even the slightest carelessness, unable to use force, unable to act as he pleased.

If it were not for her, he suspected he would never again be this gentle and restrained with another person for as long as he lived.

The shadow cast by his fingertips in the moonlight overlapped with her face — as though his fingertips were truly grazing her cheek. Even the warmth at his fingertips seemed, in that moment when shadow met face, to grow ever so slightly warmer.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” He did not speak, and Feng Jiu’er had no idea what he was doing.

Ninth Imperial Uncle was always so proud. She had no way of knowing whether he was willing to listen to her.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

“This Prince will listen to you.”

He finally turned, putting his back to her: “I’m leaving.”

He said he would leave, and he truly left — by the time Feng Jiu’er spun around in alarm, his figure had already vanished without a trace.

He left so quickly, without allowing her even one last look. It was infuriating enough to make her stamp her feet on the spot.

“Wicked Ninth Imperial Uncle!” Could he not at least have let her look one more time? Even knowing her head would ache for it, she still wanted to look at him.

But this man had simply walked away — disappeared completely, without a shadow!

How terrible of him!

All at once, she felt a terrible urge to cry.

Why would he not let her have one last look? She truly wanted to see him once more.

Even if her head would ache, even if her whole body would feel wretched, even if… she wanted to see him, wanted to look at him one more time.

When alone, Jiu’er could be vulnerable too. She found herself walking over to the very spot where Ninth Imperial Uncle had just been standing, breathing in the trace of his presence, enduring the throbbing in her head as tears slid silently down her face.

Being alone was truly so lonely. So painful. She missed him so terribly.

She had only just parted from him and already felt this way — how was she to get through the days ahead?

She did not want to leave him for even a moment. Not even a single moment.

Feng Jiu’er did not know how long she stood there in the spot where Zhan Qingcheng had just been. Only when the eastern sky blazed brighter and brighter with the colors of dawn did she finally raise her hand and brush the corners of her eyes.

Certain there were no more tear tracks on her face, she reached up and patted her own cheeks briskly, replaced them with a smile, and set off walking.

Vulnerability could only be kept for oneself alone. Once back out in the world, she would once again be the composed, steady, cool-headed Master Jiu.

So many things were waiting for her to deal with — one night of vulnerability was more than enough.

After she left, a dark shadow dropped down, returning to the place where they had stood.

He had seen, quite clearly, that girl’s crystalline tears falling to the ground before being swallowed by the dry fallen leaves, lost without a trace.

Only once Jiu’er had gone far enough did Zhan Qingcheng finally step forward, following in her wake, departing from this place.

He would listen to her — but today, he needed to personally see her safely home.

The time it cost him, he could make back riding hard.

Time spent on her had never once felt wasted. If anything, it felt all the more precious.

What Feng Jiu’er did not know was that, after all her resentment and all her grievances, the one responsible for them had never left at all, but had been following right behind her the entire time.

She did not know either that when she had been venting about Ninth Imperial Uncle in the forest, Ninth Imperial Uncle had been standing in the shadows, listening quietly, his heart aching for every single tear she had shed.

She knew none of it. But by the time she arrived back at the courtyard, she was bright-eyed and full of energy again, with no trace at all of how forlorn she had been just moments before.

Only after she went inside did Zhan Qingcheng turn and leave.

This time, he truly departed.

Two days later, Xing Zizhou brought back an important piece of news: several of their men had seen the First Prince slip out of camp under cover of night and was making his way back toward the imperial capital.

The First Prince had finally been unable to hold out any longer and was heading back!

This news was almost impossibly heartening.

With the First Prince returning, everything would become manageable — many matters could be brought out into the open.

As long as the First Prince returned, Phoenix City would first lift its danger alert. What remained would be Meherke’s internal affairs.

Meherke’s problems, at least, would not threaten the safety of Phoenix City’s people. That way, Ninth Imperial Uncle could also focus his full attention on the matters at the imperial capital.

The Nanmen Clan, Emperor Qiwen, and the rest — once Ninth Imperial Uncle had the energy to spare, how could he not settle those accounts with them properly?

That same afternoon, Xing Zizhou came rushing back, and the look on his face was one of unmistakable excitement.

Jiu’er, who had been studying a newly acquired floor plan of the palace, frowned slightly. “What has you so excited?”

“I’ve obtained a piece of news that works very much in our favor.” Xing Zizhou’s eyes glittered, his whole person practically vibrating with agitation.

Without waiting for Jiu’er to ask, he immediately said: “The First Prince has apparently been secretly manufacturing weapons — and this matter, the Meherke King himself may not even know about it.”

“He’s been secretly manufacturing weapons?” Even Jiu’er’s eyes lit up at this, a note of disbelief in her voice. “This man — he truly did have ulterior motives all along!”

She had assumed the First Prince, though he moved against the Second Prince, would at least refrain from acting against the Meherke King for the time being.

She had not expected that he truly harbored ambitions of seizing the throne for himself.