Long Yan was shaken. He knew full well how formidable Feng Jiu was.

And yet, even now, he still dared not rashly let her in.

“If you go in, you are admitting that you… recognized him.” His voice was low, and within him, a fierce struggle raged. “As such, you yourself may… not survive with your life intact.”

“But if I don’t go in, his hand is certainly finished!”

Feng Jiu stepped forward. Long Yan, afraid she would collide into him, immediately stepped back.

Whatever the case, Feng Jiu was not some mister — she was a young woman. Between men and women, propriety demanded they not touch. How could their bodies collide?

Yet Feng Jiu kept advancing, as though she was deliberately barreling straight into him.

“Sir, if you… if you keep this up, don’t blame me for being impolite!” Long Yan said the words, but was forced steadily backward by her advance.

Feng Jiu suddenly accelerated, crashing straight at his chest — she was about to walk right into his arms.

Long Yan was utterly defeated by her. He had never seen such a stubborn little girl.

He stepped aside at last, finally yielding the path before him to her.

Feng Jiu didn’t give it a second thought and charged straight through the gate.

Two manor guards moved to intercept, but Long Yan waved them off and hurried in after her himself.

“Sir, you truly ought to think this through. If… if you’re recognized, even I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Why are you so good to me?” Feng Jiu didn’t even turn her head. She knew where Lanranyue resided — so the moment she was through the gate, she tapped her feet lightly against the ground and flew toward Lanranyue’s quarters at her fastest speed.

“He is your master. If my life is what it takes to save his hand, what is there for you to hesitate over?”

Long Yan was genuinely stumped by the question.

A stranger she had met only a handful of times on one side — the master he had followed for many years on the other. Which weighed heavier, which lighter? What was there still to agonize over?

It was just… he couldn’t bear to see her lose her life here. She was still so young — no more than sixteen or seventeen years old.

In an instant, Feng Jiu had already burst into Lanranyue’s quarters and shoved open his chamber door.

Inside the room, besides Lanranyue, there was also one of the manor’s physicians.

Lanranyue hadn’t even had time to change out of his night-infiltration garb. Blood still seeped from his wrist — beyond applying bandaging, the physician was entirely helpless.

“You—” Feng Jiu’s intrusion made Lanranyue’s expression darken at once, and a killing intent surfaced in his eyes.

His night-infiltration attire. His wounded wrist. The eyes that had met hers earlier that night. This girl really had seen through him.

Attempting to assassinate the Emperor was a crime that wiped out nine generations. Now that she had seen, she could not be allowed to live.

The palm of Lanranyue’s hand instantly coalesced a surge of formidable inner energy.

Feng Jiu, however, seemed utterly oblivious to it — she walked over briskly and shoved the physician aside.

“He’s suffered a tendon injury. What good is bandaging him like this? Even if the surface wound heals, the tendons and veins will be completely destroyed!”

The inner energy in Lanranyue’s palm surged ever more powerfully — powerful enough already to kill Feng Jiu with a single strike.

“Manor Master!” Long Yan, who had rushed in after her, was sweating with urgency. The Manor Master had truly formed the intention to kill Feng Jiu. He himself was frantic right now — should he save her or not?

“You, get out.” Long Yan waved a hand. The physician hesitated for a moment, then retreated immediately from the room.

Feng Jiu set down the medicine case she carried with her at all times. Fully aware that Lanranyue’s palm brimmed with condensed true energy, she offered not the slightest defense — she pulled up a chair and sat at the bedside.

Every opening was exposed. Not a shred of protection. With Lanranyue’s level of power, he could absolutely end her small life with a single palm strike.

“I’m here to treat your injury.” She reached to take hold of Lanranyue’s wounded hand.

Lanranyue’s other large palm had already lifted into the air. The cold within his eyes was enough to frighten anyone to death.

Feng Jiu simply raised her head and stared at his upraised hand. Then, softly, she called out: “Uncle.”

Uncle. She called him Uncle.

So soft, so gentle, so… full of tender longing.

Lanranyue didn’t know when he had become so easily moved. But after that pang in his heart, that palm — no matter how he willed it — would not come down.

Feng Jiu seized the moment and grasped his injured right hand, pressing urgently: “Uncle, the tendons in your hand are damaged. Surgery to reconnect them must begin at once. The longer we wait, the less I can do.”

Lanranyue said nothing, and tried to withdraw his injured hand. Long Yan grew anxious as well, murmuring, “Manor Master, let her try. Otherwise, your hand may truly be ruined beyond recovery.”

Lanranyue still said nothing. Yet the hand he had raised — the true energy in it dissipated.

He lowered his gaze and watched Feng Jiu as she worked busily at his side. Her eyes held a focused, earnest light — earnest and, beneath it, guilty.

But that guilt vanished entirely before long.

When treating a patient, her mind admitted nothing but seriousness and rigor. There was no room for anything else.

“Uncle, lie down and don’t move. I’m about to begin. It will be painful. Using anesthetic would waste too much time.”

Lanranyue was naturally not going to be so obliging as to simply lie down. So Feng Jiu found a moment to say, “Long Yan, help him lie down.”

“Yes!” Long Yan at this moment had no other thoughts — his only wish was for the Manor Master’s hand to recover.

He stepped forward, both hands intending to press down on Lanranyue’s shoulders — then was frightened back by a look from Lanranyue so cold it had reached its absolute limit.

“Manor Master…”

Fortunately, Lanranyue lay down on his own. He simply did not wish to be touched by Long Yan.

Feng Jiu asked Long Yan to bring a basin of warm water, and then set to work in earnest on the reconnection procedure.

It was indeed rather painful. And her requirement was that he must remain completely motionless — otherwise she would seal his acupuncture points.

Lanranyue naturally would not allow anyone to touch him, let alone endure something as humiliating as having his acupuncture points sealed.

So however much it hurt, he bore it. Not once did he even crease his brow, much less move.

Time passed moment by moment. Feng Jiu’s full attention was fixed on Lanranyue’s wrist, yet the sweat at her temples grew denser and denser.

When it was nearly obscuring her vision, Feng Jiu said quietly, “Long Yan. Wipe the sweat.”

“Wipe… the sweat?” Long Yan was momentarily at a loss. He had never done such a thing for a young woman. Wiping her sweat for her — wasn’t that a bit inappropriate?

Nevertheless, sweat droplets had truly gathered on her eyelashes, and her two hands held instruments working on Lanranyue’s bloodied wound — she seemed genuinely unable to spare even a moment to wipe them herself.

Most critically, that bead of sweat was pooling on her eyelashes and obstructing her vision.

Long Yan didn’t know what to use to wipe a young woman’s sweat. He had nothing like a handkerchief on him. Thinking it over, he could only lift his own sleeve and gently dab it for her.

“Dirty. Use a towel. My entire forehead is covered. Quickly.”

Another drop was about to fall.

Long Yan, disdained for his dirty sleeve, was a touch embarrassed — but quickly found a towel and carefully wiped the sweat clean from her temples.

Lanranyue lay in bed, his gaze gradually drifting to Feng Jiu’s face.

She was genuinely putting her whole heart into healing him. And yet, just moments ago, she had clearly known he intended to kill her.

What on earth was this girl thinking? Did she imagine that because she had saved him, he would not silence her?

What if he truly still intended to kill her?