Jueyan, Beimu’s number one assassin, had once been a man of unpredictable movements, making his home wherever he went.

But ever since half a year ago, when Jueyan had failed an attempt to accept the Kill Order to assassinate the Crown Prince, he had remained hidden in the imperial city without ever leaving.

If he were staying to continue his attempt on the Crown Prince’s life for the sake of the Kill Order’s reward, that would at least make sense.

Heroes of the martial world killed either to eliminate evil or for money.

These days, even great heroes had to earn a living, so a killer murdering for money was nothing to fault.

But during these six months Jueyan had stayed in the imperial city, he clearly hadn’t made another attempt on Zhan Yuheng’s life. Since he wasn’t staying for the Kill Order, it meant there was another purpose behind it.

Whoever could make Jueyan stay was either someone exceptionally formidable, or a woman.

Di Wu Ya’s coldly merciless sword tip aimed straight at Jueyan’s face. “Beimu’s number one assassin—I still haven’t seen your true face to this day. That human-skin mask of yours, it’s about time you took it off.”

“Isn’t it about time you took off the mask on your own face as well?” Jueyan sneered coldly.

But the moment he stirred his inner energy, a surge of blood welled up in his chest. His brows sank slightly, and he nearly spat out a mouthful of fresh blood.

Before tonight, he had already suffered internal injuries. The exchange of blows with Di Wu Ya just now had caused his blood and energy to churn violently. Now, with injury added to injury, he simply couldn’t use his inner energy.

“You’re injured?” Di Wu Ya narrowed his eyes. He had originally intended to test the man’s swordsmanship, not expecting he had already sustained such severe injuries.

Those capable of wounding Jueyan were likely few indeed.

Di Wu Ya snorted coldly. “I won’t take advantage of you in this state. Another day, I’ll come learn your number-one sword technique.”

Ahead, his shadow moved with the wind; the dappled tree shadows didn’t sway in the slightest from his departure, only swaying gently with the evening breeze.

Di Wu Ya’s inner energy was so profound that Jian Yi knew clearly in his heart—even if he himself were uninjured, he could never win in a pure contest of inner energy.

But if he hadn’t been injured, countering Di Wu Ya’s inner energy with sword techniques alone, he wasn’t necessarily certain to lose.

He simply couldn’t understand—the person he was tailing was Feng Jiu, so why would Di Wu Ya intervene?

Could it be that Feng Jiu was also a member of the Tianzun Sect?

The blood and energy in his chest still churned. Jian Yi wiped away the trace of blood that had unintentionally seeped from the corner of his mouth, glancing once more in the direction Di Wu Ya had left.

In that empty night sky, not a trace of Di Wu Ya’s presence remained—the man had arrived as if floating and left without a sound.

No wonder he could lead the entire Tianzun Sect—such a formidable figure was rare to find in the martial world.

He wiped away the blood once more, lightly tapped his foot, and instantly vanished beneath the night.

The wind stirred, as if the evening breeze sweeping in would even lift the strands of her hair.

Someone was gently caressing her face. The sensation of being touched was faint, almost imperceptible, but the reassuring presence enveloped her continuously.

She could clearly sense someone standing beside her the whole time; those eyes, accustomed to coldness, now carried traces of warmth, gazing at her just like this.

Yet Feng Jiu, the one being gazed at so intently, simply couldn’t open her eyes—and seemed unwilling to, as well.

His presence was so intense, so familiar, that even knowing clearly someone was right beside her, she didn’t want to wake up.

As if she feared that once she woke, the presence enveloping her would vanish as well.

The dream was so sweet—but unfortunately, morning always comes.

When Feng Jiu opened her eyes, there was no one else in the room besides herself. Last night’s attentive gaze had indeed been false.

She sat up and rubbed her brow. Although she hadn’t slept long, she had slept deeply enough that, waking today, she actually felt doubly refreshed.

A young body truly was a wonderful thing—a body of sixteen or seventeen years recovered remarkably fast. Having slept less than two hours, she woke feeling completely refreshed.

Getting out of bed, she was about to go wash up when, unexpectedly, a leaf on the floor caught her eye.

Feng Jiu narrowed her eyes, walked over, and bent down to pick up the leaf.

Looking again at the window, this spot was so far from it—moreover, the window was closed. How could this leaf possibly have been blown in by the evening wind?

Last night’s dream—could it be…

Footsteps sounded from outside. Feng Jiu put the leaf away, and without waiting for Xiao Yingtao to knock, she opened the door herself.

“Young Master, you’re awake?” Xiao Yingtao’s expression looked rather plain, as if her mood wasn’t great. “Emperor Ji and Lengyue are here again.”

“Last time I treated Emperor Ji—if he felt it was working, it was only natural he’d come back.” So there was nothing surprising about it.

Xiao Yingtao pouted, however. “It’s that Lengyue—she’s truly so annoying.”

“Just have them go take a number.” Feng Jiu tossed out these words and stepped toward the old well in the back courtyard.

No matter how annoying someone was, as long as they behaved properly, they were still patients all the same.

In her eyes, there was no distinction among patients.

Xiao Yingtao knew she was letting her emotions get the better of her, but that Lengyue was truly so annoying that she didn’t even want to glance at her twice, let alone hear her voice.

But to the Young Master, she really was just an ordinary patient.

Feng Jiu naturally didn’t concern herself with such things. Today she had half a day set aside at the clinic; the sign was hung outside, so it was only reasonable that Emperor Ji had come upon hearing the news.

However, today was a scheduled clinic day, not an impromptu extra session, so there were quite a few patients who had come specifically to see her.

Although Feng Jiu’s consultation tickets were priced steeply, this imperial city was never lacking in wealthy people.

When Feng Jiu came out, there was quite a commotion in the main hall. Lengyue’s sharp voice faintly reached her ears: “Do you know who we are? We come from the Ninth Prince’s Manor—is this how you treat an honored guest of the Ninth Prince’s Manor?”

Xiao Yingtao wasn’t buying any of it, her face utterly indifferent. “No matter where you’re from, here you’re just an ordinary patient. First come, first served. If you want my master to treat you, please go get a number.”

“You dare make my adoptive father waste his time again?” Lengyue was furious and wanted to strike.

Emperor Ji said coldly, “Just go get a number.”

Last time he’d come, Feng Jiu’s treatment had genuinely been effective, and he still held hope for his legs.

Now that the medicine Feng Jiu had prescribed him had run out, he naturally needed to come for a checkup, since Feng Jiu had said an examination was necessary to determine whether the medicine should be changed.

But seeing so many people already lined up with numbers upon arrival left him rather displeased inside, even though he said nothing aloud.

Lengyue, however, wasn’t nearly as quiet. Seeing more than a dozen people already ahead, she immediately grew displeased.

“Adoptive Father, once we take a number, half a day will likely pass. The manor has so many important matters waiting for you to handle—how can we waste time here?”

She deliberately emphasized the words “the manor,” wanting everyone to know that all those currently holding numbers were obstructing important matters of the Ninth Prince’s Manor!