Looking at the four figures walking toward them, Feng Jiu’s face was completely without ripple — yet deep within, she had already readied herself for battle.

Though she was twelve parts certain that the Ninth Imperial Uncle would stand by her side, every last one of these people was his kin.

The Third Prince from years past was nowhere to be found, perhaps no longer of this world. The Di family members had almost all perished on the battlefield.

Now, aside from Mu Mu, the two people before her — Emperor Ji and Night Rakshasa — were the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s closest family, and elders at that.

The Ninth Imperial Uncle could protect her, yet — could she truly ask him to raise his hand against his own nearest kin?

Feng Jiu had no wish to place the Ninth Imperial Uncle in an impossible position. And so protecting herself was the only path.

But what she had not expected was that the gazes of these several people, after sweeping briefly over her own figure, came to rest entirely upon Zhan Qingcheng.

“My lord, the night chill is heavy with dew — please return with us.” Elder Stone spoke, his manner absolutely deferential.

Yet Zhan Qingcheng was not willing to spare him so much as half a glance.

Of all the people here, the one with the least connection to the Ninth Imperial Uncle was precisely this Elder Stone.

What was more, it had been Elder Stone who had placed a Gu Poison on her in the first place, so Feng Jiu was well aware that deep down, the Ninth Imperial Uncle harbored a strong dislike for Elder Stone.

Night Rakshasa also gave Feng Jiu no more than a single glance before stepping forward two paces and looking at Zhan Qingcheng. “We have returned to the imperial capital this time with uncertain prospects ahead. A’Jiu, let us go back first.”

So they had only come to persuade the Ninth Imperial Uncle to return to the manor. Feng Jiu truly had been presumptuous just now — she had genuinely thought they had recognized her.

She turned to look sideways at the Ninth Imperial Uncle. If it were possible, she also hoped he would go back with them first.

Although the four people before her were all her enemies, Yinan’s leg had not yet healed, and both she and Yan still had Gu Poison yet to be expelled. Simply put — at this moment, with a house full of the wounded, she was not yet in a position to openly settle scores with these people.

But the day of reckoning would not be far off. Once the Gu Poison was entirely cleansed, once Feng Yinan could stand on his own feet — when that day came, Tianji Hall would most certainly make them answer for what they had done.

“Ninth Lord, since your people have come, I shall take my leave.” Feng Jiu gave a slight bow and, without waiting for Zhan Qingcheng’s response, turned and walked away.

Though this road was the most direct shortcut back to Tianji Hall, if she employed her lightness skills, even taking a longer route would cost little time.

She had no desire to look upon these four people. The loathing she bore them was more than sufficient to smother any fear she felt toward the Ninth Imperial Uncle.

No one had anticipated that Zhan Qingcheng would also turn and follow after her — evidently intending to leave with her.

Feng Jiu was momentarily taken aback, and had just been about to say something to the Ninth Imperial Uncle when, from behind, Cold Moon stared at her retreating silhouette with wide eyes, her expression one of utter disbelief.

“Feng Jiu’er… it’s Feng Jiu’er! She is Feng Jiu’er!”

At these words, Emperor Ji, Night Rakshasa, and Elder Stone all felt a jolt in their hearts, and looked at Feng Jiu one by one with astonishment.

At this moment, Feng Jiu had her back to them — and save for the matter of height, that silhouette… was truly indistinguishable from that of Feng Jiu’er!

Feng Jiu remained unmoved, merely glancing calmly at Zhan Qingcheng. Zhan Qingcheng’s expression likewise showed no change whatsoever.

Cold Moon, however, was so agitated that her entire body was nearly convulsing. She held herself back once, and then again, and at last could hold back no longer — with a swoosh she drew her long sword and thrust it straight at Feng Jiu’s back.

This girl’s volatile temperament had been reined in considerably of late — especially over the past half year, ever since Feng Jiu’er vanished and word spread that she had died in battle, Cold Moon had reverted to her former self.

Courteous and proper toward everyone, gentle and well-behaved toward her elders — altogether very well-behaved.

Yet it turned out that all this while, she had been living under the shadow of Feng Jiu’er deep within her heart, never having truly emerged from it.

Now, upon seeing a person whose silhouette was nearly identical to Feng Jiu’er, Cold Moon lost all control.

Her sudden loss of control was somewhat beyond the expectations of the other three, yet none of them made any move to stop her.

Feng Jiu’er’s martial arts — every one of them had witnessed it firsthand. As long as the young man before them made a move, they would most likely be able to tell immediately whether he was Feng Jiu’er.

And so although they stepped forward several paces, it was merely to observe with cold eyes.

What was more, Zhan Qingcheng was right at the young man’s side — if this young man were truly Feng Jiu’er, Zhan Qingcheng would never stand by and allow Cold Moon to harm her.

As Cold Moon’s sword was about to pierce Feng Jiu’s back, strangely enough, Zhan Qingcheng showed not the slightest sign of intending to intervene.

Nor did Feng Jiu show the least urgency — she simply turned her head and watched Cold Moon lunging toward her, without any reaction whatsoever.

Was he hiding his abilities, or did he truly not know martial arts?

Given Feng Jiu’er’s skill, Cold Moon’s strike had surely surpassed the range within which she could safely deflect it — could it truly be that he was not Feng Jiu’er? That he genuinely knew no martial arts?

Yet just as the tip of Cold Moon’s sword was on the verge of striking Feng Jiu, without any warning, Feng Jiu casually raised her hand.

There was a sharp ringing sound — Feng Jiu’s fingertip had flicked against the very tip of Cold Moon’s blade. That fierce and savage strike, so swift and precise, was deflected by the white-robed young man as easily as one might brush aside a feather.

Such inner power — truly breathtaking.

Cold Moon could be counted as a formidable practitioner by jianghu standards. Had Feng Jiu not held back, the long sword in Cold Moon’s hand would already have been sent flying.

How could Feng Jiu’er’s martial arts have suddenly improved to such a degree? Impossible!

Cold Moon refused to accept it. With a swish, she flicked her wrist, and the long sword instantly thrust toward Feng Jiu’s waist.

Yet Feng Jiu remained unhurried throughout — meeting each strike as it came, yet showing no intent to attack Cold Moon in return. Nor did she permit Cold Moon to gain the slightest advantage.

From time to time, with a sweep of palm wind, she would remove something from Cold Moon’s person — an earring, a hairpin, the chain at her neck, even her outer robe.

This unhurried, unruffled manner, utterly devoid of turbulence, appearing as though she had no intention of causing harm — was in truth the most cutting humiliation imaginable.

Emperor Ji, watching from the side, was growing visibly annoyed. Cold Moon was, after all, his adopted daughter, raised by his own hand — to have her humiliated in such a manner, could he simply stomach it?

He was about to step in when a cold voice from beside him said: “Cold Moon, stand down. Allow me to see for myself what this young brother here is capable of!”

Not even Elder Stone could hold her back — Night Rakshasa’s figure had already swept out at an angle.

Though Cold Moon was still unwilling to yield, now that Night Rakshasa had also made her move, if she continued fighting, even a victory would be hollow. Besides, she was clearly no match for the young man before her who so resembled Feng Jiu — if she did not step down, Night Rakshasa might well stand back and refuse to help.

He was an elder after all. One could hardly allow the strong to gang up on the weak.

If she kept fighting, Night Rakshasa would have no opening to act.

And so she shot Feng Jiu a vicious glare and stepped aside in disarray.

Looking herself over, she found her outer robe was nowhere to be seen — the more she looked, the more furious she became.

Night Rakshasa’s martial arts were so formidable — she hoped she would peel a layer of skin off this person who so resembled Feng Jiu!