Jiuqing’s fingertips tensed, and he abruptly stood up.
But Feng Jiu’er kept staring at the distant sky, murmuring, “Ninth Imperial Uncle… why do you really not care about me?”
Jiuqing’s feelings grew complicated. Looking again at her face, he saw the girl’s cheeks were flushed red, her eyes hazy.
So she really had gotten quite drunk.
Somewhat helpless, he finally sat down beside her, trying to take the flask from her hand, but Feng Jiu’er clutched it tightly and refused to let go.
“Why doesn’t the Ninth Imperial Uncle care about me?” She looked up at Jiuqing.
Just from lifting her head, her body began to sway slightly.
She really was drunk.
This wine was smooth and fragrant going down, but its aftereffect truly was strong. Jiuqing had only taken a light sip, while she had gulped down most of the flask in one go — how could she not get drunk?
Seeing the person beside her say nothing, Feng Jiu’er suddenly grabbed his wrist — she’d gotten angry!
“Tell me, why doesn’t the Ninth Imperial Uncle care about me? Why can he really bear to ignore me so completely?”
“Could it be that you wish for him to follow you and leave the kingdom of Bei Mu?” Jiuqing asked, his voice hoarse.
“I…” Jiu’er’s head felt heavy; the moment her head moved, her body began to sway again.
Jiuqing steadied her, and she leaned against his arm, closing her eyes.
Her body felt so tired, so dizzy, as if she might collapse at any moment.
Did she really want the Ninth Imperial Uncle to follow her and leave Bei Mu?
“No…” Jiu’er shook her head, and the moment her head moved, even Jiuqing’s arm couldn’t keep her steady — she fell straight backward.
Jiuqing pulled her back. No matter how he positioned her, the girl couldn’t sit steady, so he simply let her rest across his lap.
The flask in Jiu’er’s hand had already been taken from her. She slumped down limply, pillowing her head on his thigh, still gazing at the distant horizon.
“The Ninth Imperial Uncle can’t follow me and leave…” The girl’s voice carried a forlorn air, somewhat hoarse, somewhat downcast.
“If he left, the half of the realm already within his grasp… would be in jeopardy.”
Perhaps she had no idea who she was even speaking to — her head remained heavy and dizzy throughout.
But it seemed there really were so many words inside her heart, so many things she wanted to say.
“But the Ninth Imperial Uncle doesn’t care about me, and I… it hurts, it really hurts.”
These were words Feng Jiu’er had never spoken to anyone since leaving the imperial capital.
Perhaps young women were simply this sensitive and fragile — knowing full well she shouldn’t, yet still unable to stop herself from harboring such wishful thoughts.
But if such a thing were truly to happen, she would also be afraid.
Afraid she would bring harm to the Ninth Imperial Uncle, afraid that because of her, he would end up with nothing.
“I miss him, I really miss him so much… ow!” Jiu’er suddenly clutched her head, crying out softly, “My head hurts so much!”
“Stop thinking about it!” Jiuqing took hold of her hand, channeling a steady stream of deep, mellow inner energy into her body.
At a time like this, it wasn’t to give her true energy — only to help her calm down.
“Since that man doesn’t care whether you live or die, why bother thinking of him any further?”
“No! The Ninth Imperial Uncle doesn’t disregard whether I live or die — he simply can’t help himself!”
No one was allowed to speak ill of the Ninth Imperial Uncle, no one at all!
Feng Jiu’er suddenly broke free of Jiuqing’s large hand, climbing up off his lap, even trying to stand up on the rooftop.
But the roof tiles were uneven and bumpy to begin with, and combined with the wine she’d drunk, her whole body now felt limp.
The moment she stood, she immediately began to tip forward, about to plunge headfirst off the edge.
Jiuqing reached out and caught her, pulling her back. He’d meant to say something, but happened to notice traces of tears in the corners of the girl’s eyes.
Had she been crying?
This girl, who wouldn’t shed a tear even while bleeding, had actually cried.
He knew that during this period, she had endured far too much unfair treatment in her heart.
Her martial arts had been stripped from her for no reason at all; she’d been forced to leave Bei Mu inexplicably, heading toward the distant, unknown Feng clan.
And now, even Feng Junzhuo had spoken harsh words, declaring he no longer wanted her as a daughter.
And then there was her Ninth Imperial Uncle, who, ever since she’d left the capital, had paid her no attention at all…
Each of these was a tremendous blow to her, yet during the day she still had to force a smile in front of everyone.
“Girl…” Jiuqing’s long fingers reached out, wanting to wipe away the tears in her eyes.
But just at this moment, it seemed someone was approaching from below.
“Long Shiyi said she’s on the roof,” came Qiao Mu’s voice.
“Mm.” Xue Gu nodded, sighing softly. “Given how harshly Feng Junzhuo spoke today, that girl must be feeling terribly hurt inside — she just doesn’t like to talk about it.”
She looked at Qiao Mu: “Go keep her company, talk with her a while.”
“Alright.” Qiao Mu tapped the ground lightly and leapt up onto the roof.
Seeing Jiuqing sitting nearby drinking didn’t strike her as strange at all — after all, it was Mu Mu who had arranged for him to guard Jiu’er.
But seeing Jiu’er lying asleep on the roof, looking utterly out of it, she grew alarmed.
She hurried over and immediately caught the rich smell of wine on Jiu’er.
She glanced at the flask in Jiuqing’s hand, somewhat displeased: “You let her drink wine?”
They had to set out early the next morning — getting drunk at a time like this really wasn’t a good idea.
What’s more, there was no telling how many enemies were watching them right now — it was best to avoid alcohol entirely on this journey.
Jiuqing paid her no mind, not even sparing her a glance.
Qiao Mu, however, calmed herself down and helped lift Jiu’er up, saying, “I’ll take her back to rest. You should go rest too.”
With a temperament like Jiu’er’s, if she didn’t want to drink, no one could force her to.
But if she truly wanted to drink, then no one could stop her either.
With a stubborn Jiu’er paired with an aloof, ice-cold Jiuqing who acted as if it had nothing to do with him — if she wanted to drink, was he really going to stop her?
Jiuqing wouldn’t try to control her either — he only concerned himself with her safety.
So really, her earlier reproach toward Jiuqing had been uncalled for.
“Sorry about that.” Qiao Mu helped Jiu’er up, said this single word, and leapt away.
Jiuqing still paid no attention, but as they left, his gaze settled on Feng Jiu’er’s slender retreating figure.
The night wind blew past, carrying her figure away.
His gaze didn’t linger long either; like her before, he looked toward the distant horizon, his tightly pressed lips seeming even colder.
Lingering in his mind were nothing but the girl’s red-eyed accusations.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, why do you really not care about me?”
“Why doesn’t the Ninth Imperial Uncle care about me — tell me, why doesn’t he care about me?”
“I miss the Ninth Imperial Uncle, I really miss him so much…”
“No! The Ninth Imperial Uncle doesn’t disregard whether I live or die — he simply can’t help himself!”
A sudden, sharp ache gripped his heart; he raised his hand, his large palm resting over his own chest.
Here, inexplicably, something had been wrenched with pain.
If she’d already decided he didn’t care about her, why keep thinking of him? If she kept thinking of him, wouldn’t the Gu Poison start acting up again?
That girl was so foolish — how could he ever feel at ease entrusting her to someone else?
The wind drifted by softly, stirring the wisps of hair at his temple.
A night like this, a man like this — there was something indescribably peerless about him…