The man in black said nothing — exactly as Feng Jiu’er had expected.

That said, one of Jiu’er’s greatest flaws — which was also her greatest strength — was that she could be extraordinarily persistent when she set her mind to it, persistent enough to outlast anyone’s resistance.

In the end, the man in black could no longer endure her clinging. He dropped two words, stood up, and walked away: “Jiu Qing.”

Jiu Qing… the name carried a certain warmth to it, though Jiu’er couldn’t quite put her finger on where exactly that warmth came from.

“Hey! Jiu Qing, there’s still roasted chicken — have a little more!”

But he had already walked too far away.

Jiu’er could only shrug, took the remaining roasted chicken back to the group, sat down, and ate at a leisurely pace.

“Shot down, weren’t you?” Qiao Mu teased. “Even Jiu’er’s beauty scheme wasn’t charming enough. Looks like we’d better behave ourselves and stop provoking that fellow.”

From a distance alone, one could already see how coldly he had treated Jiu’er — who would want to go over and get snubbed themselves?

And it wasn’t a soft snub, either. It was hard as iron, the kind that drew blood.

Jiu’er didn’t seem to mind at all. She smiled and said, “At least I found out his name.”

“What name?” With Xiao Yingtao away, Qiao Mu was the only one left who would chat with Jiu’er.

Xue Gu and Tuoba Keyan were not talkers at all. Yanu’s throat hadn’t fully healed, and he had long since grown accustomed to silence. As for Mu Mu — he spoke when he felt like it, and on days when he didn’t, he could go an entire day without uttering a single word.

“Jiu Qing. Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Qiao Mu meant that sincerely. Jiu Qing — it really was a fine name.

Even if the man’s looks were rather unremarkable, the name alone somehow elevated his entire image.

“Jiu Qing?” Mu Mu looked toward the distant silhouette standing beside a tall and powerful steed. The wide, loose robes completely concealed whatever figure lay beneath them.

Jiu Qing…

He lowered his gaze, looking at the water pouch in his hands. His long lashes cast fan-shaped shadows beneath his eyelids — indescribably handsome. Yet whatever lay in the depths of those eyes, no one could see through it.

Jiu Qing. Not a bad name, to be sure. But for that fellow to have given himself such a name, the intention behind it was likely more than meets the eye.

With a temperament like his, he wouldn’t care one bit whether a name sounded pleasing or not.

“Alright, everyone full? Then let’s set off.” Xue Gu screwed the cap back on her water pouch and stood.

Tuoba Keyan immediately rose as well, cast a glance at Feng Jiu’er, then followed Xue Gu toward the horses.

Mu Mu also stood and looked at Jiu’er. “Riding or taking the carriage?”

“I’ll ride for a while.” Sitting in the carriage the whole time was uncomfortable.

“Alright.” Mu Mu waved a hand, and a subordinate immediately led a horse over.

Mu Mu looked at Jiu’er. “This horse was prepared for you. See if you can handle it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m an excellent rider.” She may have had her martial arts stripped from her, but riding and archery were things that couldn’t trip her up.

“This is a fine steed, but you haven’t ridden it before — best to get acquainted with it first.” Mu Mu was a little uneasy.

The horse had been chosen with great care by a certain someone — a true wind-chasing divine steed among the finest of its kind. But divine steeds had their pride, and not just anyone could ride one.

“What’s its name?” Jiu’er walked up to the horse and was immediately captivated by the magnificent snow-white stallion before her.

“A Heavenly Horse!” She opened her eyes wide, staring at the red droplets sliding down through the horse’s coat.

“Good heavens! I’ve finally seen a real Heavenly Horse with my own eyes!”

Those weren’t drops of blood — they were the horse’s sweat. According to legend, a true Heavenly Horse sweated like it was bleeding, its perspiration a deep crimson, red as rubies.

Such a divine creature existed only in the stories and novels she had read. Even on television, the depictions always looked fake, with red dye substituted for the horse’s legendary sweat.

And now, a living, breathing Heavenly Horse stood right before her. How could she not be astonished?

“It doesn’t have a name.” Mu Mu led his own horse over. “Give it one.”

“Then let’s call it… Zhuiyue.” Feng Jiu’er said.

Mu Mu paused, something flickering briefly in his eyes. “Zhuiyue — that’s the name you came up with?”

“Yes, what of it?” Wasn’t Zhuiyue — Moon Chaser — a wonderful name? “Do many people use it?”

He said nothing. Someone from behind was calling for him. Just as Mu Mu was about to head over, Jiu’er frowned. “What is it? You can’t just leave a sentence half-finished — you reel someone in and then walk away without an answer. Insufferable!”

“Not many. Just one.” So what more was there to say.

“Should I come back and let you test the horse?” Mu Mu followed that subordinate toward the rear of the convoy. Whatever he was needed for remained unclear.

Xue Gu and Tuoba Keyan had already swung up onto their horses. Even Qiao Mu had mounted up and was speaking with the people from the Tianji Hall.

Feng Jiu’er gently stroked the white horse’s mane, her touch feather-light — afraid to provoke it.

“So, I hear someone’s already called Zhuifeng — Wind Chaser. What a shame, can’t use that fine name on you. How about we go with Zhuiyue instead — Moon Chaser?”

The horse, naturally, gave no reply. It didn’t seem to have any particular opinion about the name Zhuiyue either.

Then again, there was another possibility entirely — the horse simply couldn’t understand her. Oh well!

“No matter. From today onward, your name is Zhuiyue.” Better than Zhuixing — Star Chaser, right? Ha! “Zhuiyue, let’s set off too.”

Jiu’er took Zhuiyue’s reins, originally intending to wait for Mu Mu to return before testing this horse that was still entirely unfamiliar to her.

But Mu Mu remained in the rear, consulting with his subordinate about something or other, and showed no sign of coming back.

Feng Jiu’er grew impatient. With riding skills like hers, what horse hadn’t she handled?

She grasped the reins, flipped herself up with a clean, effortless motion.

But she truly had never ridden a Heavenly Horse before, and had no idea just how unpredictable that pride could be.

When Feng Jiu’er mounted, Zhuiyue had seemed fairly agreeable — the agility of that vault onto its back was undeniably impressive, the movement exceptionally graceful.

But the moment she settled onto its back, Zhuiyue suddenly lost its temper. Whether it had sensed that Feng Jiu’er was completely devoid of inner energy — a “good-for-nothing” — was hard to say.

How could such a noble creature allow a good-for-nothing to sit upon its back?

Zhuiyue was displeased. With a sharp whinny, it bolted.

“Jiu’er!” No one had expected the Zhuiyue that had looked so docile moments ago to erupt so suddenly.

Xue Gu, Qiao Mu, and Tuoba Keyan at the front had no time to react. Mu Mu at the rear turned around just in time to see Zhuiyue shoot like an arrow through the crowd and plunge headlong into the wild forest nearby.

This girl — she hadn’t listened to him. She tried the horse without waiting for him to come back?

This was a Heavenly Horse. Its temperament was nothing that an ordinary person could fathom.

He yanked the reins and was about to give chase — but someone was faster.

In the blink of an eye, one person atop one horse flashed past like lightning, disappearing into the forest after them.