By the time Feng Jiu’er woke, her Ninth Imperial Uncle had already left.

She could barely remember how last night had passed—though faintly, she could still recall that one remark of his that would make anyone blush.

He’d said he wasn’t wearing any trousers.

Because of that single line, her sleep had begun rather restlessly, as if the slightest movement might brush against his… body, the thought of which made her face burn.

But later, once he’d stretched out his long arm and let her rest in the crook of it, breathing in the scent unique to him, she had soon fallen into a deep sleep.

In her dream, it seemed her Ninth Imperial Uncle had kept his eyes open the whole time, watching her, his slender fingers occasionally brushing her cheek, the warmth of his fingertips reaching straight to her heart.

She couldn’t say whether he had truly watched her for that long, or whether it had all simply been a dream.

In any case, by the time she woke, the trouser-less Ninth Imperial Uncle was long gone from the room, though a faint trace of his scent still lingered in the air.

That lovely fragrance left Feng Jiu’er lying there, her whole body weak and pliant, barely able to drag herself up.

How she missed his scent, his lips, the domineering way he kissed her, the strength of his arms around her, the warmth of his palms against her skin…

The more she thought of it, the heavier her breathing seemed to grow, until she felt almost drunk with the feeling.

Suddenly, Feng Jiu’er’s eyes flew wide open, her flushed little face looking as though she’d had too much wine.

She threw off the blanket and sat up, cupping her own cheeks, utterly lost.

Heavens, what was she even thinking about?

A moment ago, she had actually imagined being pinned beneath her Ninth Imperial Uncle, imagined him… taking her wildly…

Goodness! What a shameless thought! And the most shameless part was that after thinking it, her whole body felt completely out of sorts.

Her body burned as if it might combust, some deep longing stirring within her, a longing for… mother above! Feng Jiu’er, you shameless creature!

Just last night she’d sworn up and down she would never think… that way—and yet the moment her Ninth Imperial Uncle left this morning, here she was, letting her mind wander. Was she even still herself?

It was all her Ninth Imperial Uncle’s fault! Why did he have to be so good-looking for no reason?

Why such well-built muscles? Why such a sculpted, alluring stomach? Why such powerful arms? One glance and anyone could tell how formidable he was in every sense! One glance and women would practically drool! One glance and…

She really was far too shameless. She wanted nothing more than to go take a cold bath…

“Jiu’er, are you awake?” Outside the door, Xue Gu’s knock came for the third time already.

No wonder she’d faintly heard footsteps and knocking before—but lost in her own wandering thoughts, Feng Jiu’er had somehow chosen to ignore it entirely.

“I—I’m awake.” Why was her voice so hoarse, carrying an unmistakable note of unfulfilled longing?

Feng Jiu’er drew in a sharp breath, then slowly exhaled, forcing her voice to sound steadier. “Xue Gu, just a moment, I’m getting dressed.”

She threw back the blanket and, sure enough, found that aside from the false disguise, she was wearing absolutely nothing else.

Last night her Ninth Imperial Uncle had said he wasn’t wearing trousers—in truth, she had been even worse off than him; she’d been wearing nothing at all.

Xue Gu had the servants bring breakfast to the pavilion. By the time Feng Jiu’er arrived, the tea had already been changed once—this was the second pot.

“Were you very tired last night?” Xue Gu’s question carried no hidden meaning at all, truly.

But Feng Jiu’er’s face flushed instantly, which only made Xue Gu uneasy. “Last night… did the Ninth Prince spend it in your room?”

“We didn’t do anything, Xue Gu, don’t go imagining things.” But her face was so unnaturally red, almost the color of liver, that there was little hope of convincing anyone otherwise.

With a face like that, how could Xue Gu not wonder?

Still, she trusted Jiu’er—at the very least, the girl ought to know where to draw the line.

She simply had something on her mind she couldn’t quite work out.

Pouring Feng Jiu’er a cup of jasmine tea, Xue Gu watched her face slowly return to its normal color. “Why did you have to get involved? Was it really only to help Nanmeng Xu seize power?”

But was it truly worth it, going about it this way?

“The Emperor will never truly allow Nanmeng Xu to hold real power. Soon enough, he’ll find every excuse to take the military authority back, piece by piece.”

“Then leave that matter for Nanmeng Xu to handle himself. The military tally is in his hands now—if he can’t even withstand a little obstruction from the Emperor, then the Nanmeng clan’s military authority isn’t worth much in his hands to begin with, and there won’t be much he can accomplish either way.”

So Feng Jiu’er wasn’t worried about Nanmeng Xu at all. Those capable would rise to the occasion; if he proved incapable, then the authority simply wasn’t worth keeping.

“You really do take things in stride.” Xue Gu let out a breath, unsure how to weigh the value of Jiu’er’s involvement in all of this.

“But now you’ve completely stepped into the spotlight, where so many are watching. You’ve even offended the Crown Prince. Have you thought about what path lies ahead of you in the capital?”

Xue Gu still felt a measure of unease. Standing at the center of such turmoil, more and more sharp eyes would surely turn her way.

The Crown Prince, the entire Nanmeng clan, even the Emperor himself within the palace, and that veiled consort whose identity remained unknown, along with every faction at court.

And then there were those around the Ninth Prince—every one of them a major player in matters both within and beyond the court, naturally paying close attention to these rising favorites at Emperor Qiwen’s side.

It seemed unlikely now that she could simply remain the quiet proprietress of Tianji Hall.

Xue Gu wasn’t worried that Tianji Hall itself might fall because of Feng Jiu’er’s actions—after all, if Tianji Hall fell, there could always be a Diji Hall, even a Haiji Hall.

They were all people who had already died once; naturally, they weren’t afraid of dying again.

Xue Gu only worried that Jiu’er, having thrown herself into this storm of court politics, would find it difficult to ever extract herself.

“Xue Gu, you know my Long family was wronged by someone.” Feng Jiu’er held her cup, gazing into the distance.

The sky in the distance was clear, with white clouds scattered about, yet for some reason it felt as though there were too many clouds, making the whole sky impossible to see clearly.

Sometimes, it wasn’t only dark clouds that obscured one’s vision—white ones could block the view just as well.

“Back then, the one who harmed my mother, who brought down the Long family, wasn’t Nanmeng Rong alone. That person must have ties to the court, and yet to this day, I still don’t know who it is.”

That person had done so much in the shadows, bringing down the entire Long family, all for the sake of seizing power.

Who else at court held such influence, such motive?

Emperor Qiwen? Impossible!

Back then, the Long family had always supported Emperor Qiwen. It was said that after Long Feiyan died in battle, the Emperor had even gone to Mount Polang himself, searching for her remains.

At the very least, he valued Long Feiyan as a talented general, and so he had absolutely no motive to harm her, let alone the entire Long family.

It was only after Long Feiyan’s death in battle that his attention toward the Long family had truly waned.

Still, for Emperor Qiwen to value Long Feiyan so highly that he, a sovereign ruler, would personally travel to the place of her death just to search for her body…