Jiu’er truly ached all over—there wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t hurt!

But she was about to kiss the Ninth Imperial Uncle, and in this moment, she had absolutely no way of suppressing her longing for him.

She wanted so badly to kiss him…

Suddenly, the man before her shoved her away with force.

Caught off guard, Feng Jiu’er fell to the floor with a thud, clutching her head and crying out softly. “It hurts! Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

The Ninth Imperial Uncle had pushed her away. The Ninth Imperial Uncle didn’t want her anymore!

Why? Why would the Ninth Imperial Uncle do this to her?

Yanu dropped the shards of the cup he’d shattered and rushed forward at once, lifting her up from the floor.

Just moments earlier, he had nearly lost himself completely—and it was at the very last instant, on the verge of giving in, that he’d suddenly smashed a cup from the side table with force, gripping the broken pieces tightly in his hand.

The sharp shards cut into his palm, and the searing pain jolted him back to awareness, just in time to shove her away before their lips could meet.

He could not defile her. She had only mistaken him for another man—she had no genuine wish to be close to him.

If their lips had truly met, even Yanu himself had no idea what beastly thing he might have ended up doing.

After so many years of suppressing his desires, once that impulse broke free, even he himself had been startled by how completely he’d lost control.

Fortunately, at that critical moment, the sharp pain had finally brought him back to his senses.

Yanu helped Feng Jiu’er up and guided her to the edge of the bed.

Feng Jiu’er seemed to have regained a measure of clarity. She stared at his face, her voice hoarse. “Yanu, you… why are you here?”

The Ninth Imperial Uncle—where was he? Just a moment ago, she’d clearly seen the Ninth Imperial Uncle. Could it be she’d mistaken Yanu for him?

It was obvious there was no third person in this room besides herself and Yanu.

But she had no spare thought left to dwell on such things now. A burst of agonizing pain surged through her chest, and her small face changed color at once. “It hurts…”

The medicine was simply too potent—as it clashed against the poison, her body had become a battlefield, and now every cell in her seemed to be screaming with pain. It really, truly hurt!

If she could, she’d have liked nothing more than to pass out the way Tuoba Keyan had.

But with her true qi currently in reversal, if she lost consciousness from an outside blow, she risked ending up just like Tuoba Keyan—stripped of all her martial arts.

She couldn’t give up like this. She had to endure it, had to fight through it herself!

“Ah—” Feng Jiu’er let out an agonized cry and slammed a palm down on the bed.

One end of the bed frame caved in entirely under the blow, leaving a gaping hole—but she was still in pain. She needed release; she could no longer hold it back.

In the haze of her mind, something seemed to brush against her lips, and without thinking, Feng Jiu’er bit down on it…

…

Zhan Qingcheng had clearly heard Jiu’er’s cries, but before he could even reach the rear courtyard of Tianji Hall, a figure stepped in to block his path.

“Your Highness, please stop.” Qiao Mu had received Aunt Xue’s instructions—tonight, the Ninth Prince absolutely could not be allowed to see Feng Jiu’er.

“Your Highness, Jiu’er has matters to attend to tonight. It isn’t convenient for her to see you.”

But Zhan Qingcheng paid her no mind at all. With a shift of his steps—seemingly slow, yet utterly impossible for Qiao Mu to intercept—he had already slipped past her side in the blink of an eye and entered the rear courtyard.

Qiao Mu was startled, never having imagined the Ninth Prince’s lightness skill to be even more formidable than she’d thought. She tried to chase after him, but the Ninth Prince was already heading toward the east wing where Feng Jiu’er stayed.

Hearing Feng Jiu’er’s voice so clearly, sounding so pained, Zhan Qingcheng quickened his pace, ready to burst straight through the window.

Behind him, Qiao Mu called out, “Your Highness, her heartless gu is flaring—if you see her now, it could kill her!”

Zhan Qingcheng’s steps faltered. He stopped just a dozen or so paces from that window.

Qiao Mu caught up quickly, once again blocking his path. Panting, she said, “Your Highness, the heartless gu in Jiu’er’s body still hasn’t fully healed. It usually doesn’t flare, but on every full moon night, the poison erupts and causes her unbearable suffering.”

“If you don’t see her tonight, Jiu’er will recover once the night passes. But if you go in now, seeing you might only make the poison flare even more violently!”

Zhan Qingcheng’s face had turned ashen. Before, when he’d been with Feng Jiu’er and nearly… nearly had her, she’d shown no ill effects at all, leading him to believe the heartless gu had long since been cleared from her system.

She was a miracle healer, after all—he had let himself hope she’d dispelled the poison herself.

But it turned out the gu poison hadn’t vanished at all—it had simply concentrated its effects to erupt only on full moon nights.

“This one has not touched her.” His voice was cold. Those cries of pain from Feng Jiu’er just now had wrenched his heart entirely!

Wasn’t the heartless gu only triggered by his attempts to grow close to her? Why, when he hadn’t touched her tonight—hadn’t even seen her yet—was she already suffering so badly?

That girl Jiu’er could endure more than a grown man twice her size, as Zhan Qingcheng well knew. If she hadn’t reached the absolute limit of what she could bear, she would never have cried out so wretchedly!

Qiao Mu glanced back toward the window. In truth, with Jiu’er’s poison flaring, there wasn’t a single person here whose heart wasn’t anxious.

She said urgently, “Your Highness, before, Aunt Xue—an elder of ours—once helped draw the gu poison out of Jiu’er, but only managed to remove part of it. The rest remained in her body.”

“That gu worm itself no longer exists, but the poison it left behind still causes Jiu’er’s affliction to flare every full moon.”

Zhan Qingcheng wanted to push forward, yet feared that if he saw her, it would only worsen her suffering.

Inside, Jiu’er seemed to be biting down on something, clearly still holding back—those muffled groans struck at his heart like a blade, over and over.

Zhan Qingcheng’s large hand clenched so tightly his knuckles cracked. Suddenly, he turned as if to leave.

“Your Highness, even if you brought Elder Shi here, it would be of no use. That gu worm no longer exists—I doubt even Elder Shi could clear the toxin from Jiu’er’s body now.”

Qiao Mu guessed his intention at once and hurried after him.

“What’s more, Your Highness, Jiu’er has been hiding her true identity precisely because she doesn’t want the people around you to know of her existence. You don’t know—your own people…”

She stopped herself. There was much Qiao Mu couldn’t say outright; she had no habit of speaking ill of others behind their backs.

“In any case, Your Highness, the people around you will never tolerate Jiu’er’s presence. If you truly care for her, then please—don’t add to her enemies at a time like this.”

Zhan Qingcheng’s grip tightened further. His girl was inside, locked in battle with the poison in her own body, and all he could do was stand here, listening helplessly to her suffering.

He had promised to protect her—but in all these past months, when had he ever truly managed to?

Qiao Mu knew His Highness’s heart must be in turmoil, but there was nothing more to be done now.

“Your Highness, Jiu’er refined a new medicine and took it tonight—that’s why the pain is so severe. It must mean the medicine is genuinely working.”