Noticing the shift returning to her Ninth Imperial Uncle’s gaze, Feng Jiu’er hurriedly finished putting on the disguise, fastening it shut at the back of her neck herself.

“Your craftsmanship really is impressive,” Zhan Qingcheng said, lifting her arm and studying the seam at her elbow closely.

“How is it?” Jiu’er pulled her arm back with a touch of pride. “The first time you saw it, you were fooled too, weren’t you?”

“I just hadn’t worked out the mechanism.” As for being fooled—that had never truly happened. If he had been fooled, he wouldn’t have kept coming to find her so often.

Did she really think he believed he had a taste for men?

Feng Jiu’er frowned slightly. She knew very well how cunning her Ninth Imperial Uncle was—fooling him was no easy task.

He had simply chosen never to expose the truth aloud. Still, it had been quite the effort for him to go along with her charade.

Then again, thinking it over, he’d never really gone along with anything properly. Back at the Long family, he’d even called out the name “Jiu’er” itself—everyone had simply misread his meaning.

Feng Jiu’er let out a faint sigh and was about to climb off the bed when, all of a sudden, he pressed her back down again.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle!” Feng Jiu’er startled, still a little uneasy. The sky was nearly bright—could they please stop with this game that nearly drove her out of control?

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, since you’ve decided not to, then don’t—”

“When did I ever say I didn’t want to?” Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze darkened slightly before softening—just a touch, no more.

He raised a hand, his long fingers brushing across her cheek. “I promised that I would have you on our wedding night.”

So he had been carrying that promise with him all this time.

Feng Jiu’er let out a soft breath. To think that the careless words her Ninth Imperial Uncle had once spoken had actually become a vow he kept.

But marriage… a shadow crept over her heart. Was there really any chance she and her Ninth Imperial Uncle could marry?

The road ahead was treacherous, and no one wished to see them wed. Besides, they both had their own burdens to carry, so very many things to attend to.

Marriage… it was only a wish, distant and unreachable. Just a wish, nothing more.

“You object?” The man’s brow lowered, then his eyes brightened again all of a sudden. “Of course, if you wish it, I’m willing to listen to you.”

“Ninth Imperial Uncle!” Feng Jiu’er glared at him, her face flushing slightly. Who wished for anything? Stop talking nonsense.

Even though, lost in the moment, she had nearly lost control and wanted to push him down herself, so long as she was in her right mind, she would never actually do something so shameless.

“Between you and me, is there anything that cannot be said?” Zhan Qingcheng, however, didn’t seem the least embarrassed by this—if anything, his words were utterly serious. “Whatever you want, at any time, I will rise to the occasion.”

At first Feng Jiu’er had only flushed, but a moment later, once she registered the double meaning behind his words, she was utterly stunned.

Her Ninth Imperial Uncle’s wicked gaze made his meaning unmistakably clear—this was no innocent promise at all. When had this man become so shameless, even learning to use words this bold?

Who had taught him this? Who had corrupted her once pure and innocent Ninth Imperial Uncle so quickly?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing… what would I be thinking about?” Feng Jiu’er felt her whole body grow hot, all because of that one remark of his, which had left her thoroughly flustered.

She actually wanted to push him down… ugh! After half a year of cultivation, she had thought herself free of worldly desire, never realizing all that detachment had simply been because she hadn’t seen her Ninth Imperial Uncle.

“I’m tired.”

“There’s one more thing that needs to be made clear.”

“What is it?”

Jiu’er yawned. The seriousness and stubbornness in his expression made her wary of taking this lightly.

“From now on, you are not to undress in front of anyone but me.”

“I didn’t—” Ah, now she finally understood why he’d been so furious tonight, nearly losing control entirely.

Was it because he knew she had loosened her robes in the great hall, letting so many people see her “body”?

“But Ninth Imperial Uncle, that wasn’t my real body—it was just a layer of false skin, no different from wearing clothes.”

“That still won’t do!” Even a false disguise was still skin. The mere thought of all those eyes fixed on her “chest” made him furious enough to want to gouge them all out, one by one.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, you should be able to imagine just how dangerous tonight was, even without being there yourself.”

Feng Jiu’er looked at him, a trace of resentment in her eyes. “You sent Yu Jingfeng with troops to Nanmeng Manor. Were you trying to help me, or trying to ruin everything? How could Emperor Qiwen not grow suspicious?”

“Knowing it was dangerous, you still shouldn’t have gotten involved? Do you really think that old man would actually hand the Nanmeng clan’s military authority over to Nanmeng Xu?”

“Of course I know he won’t—but right now, the military tally really is in Nanmeng Xu’s hands. Once it’s there, I’ll make sure Emperor Qiwen has no way to take it back.”

It was easy to invite a god in, but hard to send one away—did Emperor Qiwen truly believe he could control Nanmeng Xu?

Even if Nanmeng Rong had truly schemed against the consorts and princes of the inner palace, using the same charge to seize power might work once—twice would be far too transparent.

What’s more, far from being as incompetent as he appeared on the surface, Nanmeng Xu had, over these past months of dealing with him, proven himself to Feng Jiu’er to be an exceptionally capable administrator.

With the Nanmeng clan’s military authority now in his hands, would it really be so easy for Emperor Qiwen to wrest it back?

“All you know how to do is run around with other men!” Zhan Qingcheng said, a touch of anger in his voice. No matter what happened, the person she thought to turn to—even relied on—was always someone else.

While he, somehow, was always the one excluded from the list of people she could lean on.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, it’s not that I don’t want to turn to you, it’s just…” Feng Jiu’er considered it for a moment, then shook her head after all.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, this matter of mine—I truly don’t want you getting involved. I know you helped me tonight, but I still don’t want you stepping in.”

“Why?” Did she really trust him so little?

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, can we please not quarrel? I’m really tired.” She yawned and flopped back down lazily, pulling the blanket around herself.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, whatever it is, let’s talk about it after I’ve rested, all right?”

He could see her exhaustion plainly—the heaviness that had never quite left the space between her brows. These past days, she had schemed and planned harder than anyone, worn herself out more than anyone.

It pained him to see it, but since she wouldn’t ask for his help, what could he do?

“Ninth Imperial Uncle,” the girl hidden beneath the blanket blinked at him, a note of pleading in her voice. “Don’t let my identity get out. I’m… afraid.”

He had meant to say something, but in the end, faced with her pitiful gaze, his handsome lips simply pressed together, and he said nothing at all.

He lay down beside her too, and just before she could think to refuse, he murmured quietly, “Don’t move around too much. I’m… not wearing any trousers.”