“Uncle, you’ve never actually met Jiu’er, have you?” Feng Jiu’er suddenly asked.

Lan Yue’s tall frame jolted. He snapped his head around and fixed his gaze on her.

She had brought up Feng Jiu’er again and again today — what exactly did she mean? Could she possibly…

“I know she is still alive. And I know where she is.” Feng Jiu’er met Lan Yue’s eyes steadily. Not a single flicker of his expression could escape her gaze.

“What are you trying to do?” Lan Yue’s eyes grew cold. The tenderness he had felt for her was instantly diminished by these three words — Feng Jiu’er.

Yet after a moment of silence, he suddenly fixed her with an entirely different look. Those dark, ink-black eyes narrowed.

“Uncle, there is no need to guess wildly. I will let you find Jiu’er — the condition is that you can wait until she returns.”

Lan Yue said nothing. But he stepped toward her, one step at a time.

Feng Jiu’er felt no flutter of alarm, made no move to retreat or step aside. She stood openly and steadily, meeting his gaze directly.

Lan Yue walked up before her and studied only her eyes. His gaze eventually settled on her face.

He suddenly reached out, gripped her chin between his fingers — but his long fingers found nothing resembling a human-skin mask anywhere they touched.

He was not certain, but in that moment, his heart gave a faint tremor.

“You are really…”

“Uncle, do you wish to see Jiu’er?” Feng Jiu’er took hold of his large hand and gently drew it away from her chin.

“The truth is, Jiu’er has not been doing well at all. She has suffered greatly too. And she misses Uncle very much.”

“If she misses me, why will she not come out and be recognized?” Lan Yue withdrew his hand and closed it into a tight fist.

“For the same reasons as Uncle — many difficulties, many things that cannot be helped. If that weren’t so, Uncle — why, in all these years, have you never once gone to see Jiu’er?”

Lan Yue was left without a word to say.

It was true — it was all his own fault. Why, in more than ten years, had he never gone to see her even once?

He had believed that by staying away from conflict, Jiu’er would be able to live peacefully. But the truth the investigations had revealed was that Jiu’er had long since become an imbecile, frequently mistreated within the household.

Later, word came that Jiu’er had recovered — not only cured of her foolishness, but transformed into someone remarkably capable and bright. Even the current Ninth Prince had come to regard her with extraordinary esteem.

Yet in the end, she had reportedly died on the battlefield.

Could it be that all of it had been rumor — and in truth, his Jiu’er was still alive and well?

He had never laid eyes on Feng Jiu’er, yet he had always felt that Jiu’er should carry his sister’s aura about her — that she should look very much like his sister.

Lan Yue’s gaze locked onto Feng Jiu’er’s face once more. Jiu’er let out a quiet sigh. There was no longer much need to spell everything out explicitly — she could only hope Uncle would heed her words.

“Uncle and Jiu’er share the same goal. But Jiu’er knows: what happened to the Long Family all those years ago was not Emperor Qiwen’s doing alone. There must be another force at work behind it all.”

“Is it that veiled woman in the palace?” Lan Yue’s pupils contracted slightly.

He had gone previously to avenge Feng Jiu — yet unexpectedly, before he could even make a move, he had already withdrawn.

What was strange was that, faced with that white-robed, veiled woman, he had found himself utterly incapable of acting.

“That matter — I don’t yet know for certain. But, Uncle — if you will listen to me, then wait until I return. Wait for Jiu’er to return, and then we can plan together.”

Lan Yue said nothing. She had not made things fully explicit, yet by now Lan Yue already understood perfectly in his heart.

“How did you find out?” He had always believed his identity to be kept very well concealed. Where, exactly, had he revealed himself?

If she were not who she was, she would have died at his hands by now.

Only a dead mouth was the most airtight. Only the dead could ensure not even a breath of information would slip out.

But she was who she was — whether Feng Jiu’er or Feng Jiu, there was no way he could bring himself to act against her now.

“A feeling.” Feng Jiu’er knew those two words sounded terribly vague — but it truly had been nothing more than feeling.

Of course, the matter of having Xing Zizhou confirm that Grandfather was the Long Family’s old general — that was something Feng Jiu’er had no intention of mentioning to Lan Yue.

They bore a blood debt of the deepest kind and were wanted criminals for the attempted assassination of the emperor. Whatever they did required absolute caution — and in order to maintain secrecy, they would kill to silence.

Uncle was willing to trust her, but that did not mean he was willing to trust Xing Zizhou.

Given that, there was no point in bringing unnecessary complications. Whether she said it or not made little difference.

Lan Yue stared at Feng Jiu’er’s face. After a long moment, he slowly closed his eyes, and asked in a cool voice: “Then tell me — are you a daughter of my Long Family, or are you the Ninth Prince’s person?”

“Naturally, I belong to the Long Family!” On this point at least, Jiu’er would never forget.

Lan Yue exhaled quietly. His composed gaze was dark and unfathomable, and for the moment Jiu’er could not read his thoughts.

She didn’t know how much time passed before Lan Yue finally asked: “How long before you return?”

“Perhaps two months. Perhaps three. Or possibly half a year.”

In her heart Jiu’er was anxious too — how could she not understand Uncle’s intentions?

But right now, was there any particularly good way to make Uncle give up on acting alone? She truly did not know.

“Uncle, I know you still have other plans. But I hope you will first see to settling Grandfather somewhere safe.”

“You need not worry.”

“Also, Uncle — I have lost all my martial arts. When I reach the Feng Clan’s territory, I don’t know whether I’ll truly be able to survive.”

This was something Lan Yue had genuinely been worried about all along.

Feng Jiu’er finally detected concern for herself within his eyes.

She let out a breath of relief and tugged at his sleeve. “Uncle, I have heard that the Feng Clan possesses a secret technique called the Phoenix Nirvana. A person who has lost all their inner energy — as long as they have the potential — can cultivate peerless martial arts in a very short time.”

“You little girl — how do you know so much? Who told you all this?”

“Xue Gu.”

Lan Yue had no impression of that name. Jiu’er explained: “The name Xue Gu came about because she spent her middle years living on Xuelian Mountain and simply chose it on a whim. Her real name is Ye Feixue.”

“Sister’s former vanguard general! She is Xue Gu?” She was still alive? Then — what about Sister? If even the vanguard general had survived, was there not a chance that Sister had survived as well? Where was Sister now?

“Uncle, please don’t get agitated. Xue Gu has been living alone these past years — there is no one beside her that you are looking for.”

“What exactly happened?”

This was a long story — in essence, Xue Gu had barely survived by luck, but was never able to find Long Feiyan afterward. She had since grown despondent and withdrawn into seclusion on Xuelian Mountain. It was only later, when Jiu’er encountered her on the mountain, that Xue Gu came down to find her.

“In any case, Uncle — this journey to the Feng Clan’s territory is fraught with danger. I fear it will be perilous in the extreme…”

“Enough!” Who in the world cursed themselves like this?

“I only wanted to say — if there were people, skilled people, stationed at the Feng Clan’s border ready to receive me at any moment, my chances of returning alive would be greatly improved.”

Feng Jiu’er took hold of Lan Yue’s arm and blinked up at him. “Uncle — don’t you agree?”