Should she actually… undo Jiuqing’s clothes and look?

Feng Jiu’er felt a jolt shoot through her. In her wildest dreams, she never imagined she would ever do something like that behind someone’s back.

Especially with chaos and bloodshed raging outside, where everyone was working desperately to hold back the ambushing bandits.

And Jiuqing — sword in hand, striking down one projectile after another.

At such a critical moment, her mind had gone to undressing someone and examining his body for disguise marks?

The thought was simply too shameless!

Yet once the idea had taken root in her mind, it grew swiftly and flourished, and in the end it grew into a towering tree that filled the sky.

Her hand drifted unconsciously to the man’s clothing, her fingers prodding and picking at the fabric, wanting to pull his lapel open — yet not quite daring.

What if he was not Ninth Imperial Uncle? Then wouldn’t she have become someone who casually… took liberties with a man?

A jolt of alarm — and the fingers that had only just managed to nudge his lapel open the tiniest fraction hurriedly retracted.

How utterly shameless! What was she to do?

And yet, the more she considered it, the more she felt he truly resembled Ninth Imperial Uncle…

Those hesitant fingers crept back to Jiuqing’s lapel. Outside, no real fighting had broken out — the ambushing figures were only throwing projectiles.

It seemed they merely wanted to probe the group’s strength, with no real intention of emerging.

Today’s battle was unlikely to amount to much — and if she was going to examine Jiuqing’s body, now was the opportunity, because in a little while there would likely be no chance left.

She drew a deep breath in, then exhaled hard.

At last, her fingers seized Jiuqing’s lapel and pulled, carefully and tentatively.

Pectoral muscles!

Good heavens — what extraordinarily well-developed pectoral muscles!

But they didn’t look like Ninth Imperial Uncle’s body.

Ninth Imperial Uncle’s body was covered in wounds, large and small — scars old and new that could not be counted.

For a martial arts expert, Jiuqing’s chest had comparatively few scars — practically none at all.

The wound she had seen before was lower down, and from the chest alone, she could detect nothing out of the ordinary.

If it were an exceptionally well-crafted skin-mask — like the one she herself had once worn — the joining seam would be on the lower abdomen.

Having barely reined in her thoughts, Feng Jiu’er lowered her gaze to the abdominal muscles faintly visible below the chest.

Her fingertip tightened. She pulled his clothing further down.

Her fingers were nearly at his lower abdomen.

Just as her fingertip hooked the fabric and was about to pull the clothing over his lower abdomen fully open — suddenly a large palm came down, and without warning, it closed firmly around her small hand.

“Ah…” Feng Jiu’er was given such a fright that she nearly tumbled straight off the horse.

Had it not been for Jiuqing catching her, she would have taken a face-first fall into the dirt.

Outside, the sounds of projectiles being deflected had died away at some unknown point — she had been so absorbed in undressing a certain man, and so wrought with nerves, that she had completely failed to notice the change in the surroundings.

Those who had been lying in ambush must have already withdrawn.

Yet his hand was still clasped tightly around hers. She was buried under Jiuqing’s robe, and face to face with this powerful frame before her, her cheeks had turned as red as a red dragon fruit. She couldn’t even muster the courage to step out into the open.

Let his robe cover her completely, she thought, and she would never come out to face anyone again.

But he still would not let go. Her hand was still held fast before his lower abdomen, and his clothing had been pulled and tugged into disarray by her.

“Seen enough?” From above her head, the man’s low, hoarse voice reached her.

“No — I wasn’t — I did… yes, I’ve seen enough.” Feng Jiu’er felt a powerful urge to simply cease existing, if only it meant she didn’t have to face this situation.

She struggled again — and still could not pull free of his large palm.

But her head, with a sudden lurch, managed to escape out from under his outer robe.

The outer robe fell open on both sides — and everything that had been happening beneath it would be in full view!

Most critically, Jiuqing’s clothing was now hanging open. If the outer robe fell aside, he would be exposed for all to see!

Though for a man to have his chest seen was not much of a thing — still, Feng Jiu’er did not like it one bit!

She yanked hard, and this time, she somehow miraculously pried his large palm apart.

Feng Jiu’er, in a flustered rush, hurried to pull his clothes back into place — but she only managed to get his lapel back together. Before she could finish straightening everything, the outer robe had already fallen open on either side.

Outside, all was calm.

But a series of questioning, bewildered gazes fell on the two of them.

These two… a man with his clothing in disarray — what exactly was going on?

“Jiu’er, you…” Qiao Mu rode over on her horse. She had only meant to check whether Jiu’er had been hurt, but she had not anticipated that she would find her… undressing Jiuqing.

What was going through this girl’s head?

Qiao Mu’s expression fell instantly. “You… you… you’ve already got…”

Good heavens! She already had the Ninth Prince and Mu Mu — what more could she want?

If the Ninth Prince ever learned of this, he would have her claws cut off on the spot!

Feng Jiu’er, frightened, hastily released Jiuqing’s clothes and scrambled to climb down off the horse.

Moving too quickly, her foot missed the stirrup, and before she even had time to cry out, she rolled off toward the ground.

Jiuqing gave only a casual reach, and snatched her back.

He looked down at the state of his own clothing. Though his lapel had been pulled back into place, it was quite obvious it had been pulled open beforehand.

Now it hung loose and unsettled, not yet properly arranged.

He narrowed his eyes, fixing them on Feng Jiu’er’s flushed, burning face. “Such a desire to see my body?”

“No — that’s not — I wasn’t…” This misunderstanding was colossal.

How was she to explain? Was she to tell everyone that she suspected Jiuqing was Ninth Imperial Uncle in disguise?

Never mind whether Jiuqing actually was Ninth Imperial Uncle — just the fact of this rumor getting out, even if Jiuqing was not, it would spread as though it were the truth.

And once it did, whether in the imperial capital or Fenghuang City, it would inevitably set off a storm of blood and carnage.

With war, the people were the ones who suffered.

This was something she absolutely could not say out loud.

“Hmm?” Jiuqing suddenly leaned forward.

Feng Jiu’er felt as though her body would crash into his — in that instant her soul nearly left her body. She scrambled to dodge backward.

But she was on a horse’s back. Where was there to go?

“Master Jiuqing, stop teasing her.” Yanu felt a pang of sympathy — Jiu’er’s face was about to catch fire at this rate.

Only then did Feng Jiu’er carefully, gingerly climb back down off the horse.

When she mounted Zhuiyue again, her hands and feet were still a little weak. What had just happened was genuinely too mortifying — and too terrifying.

Even if she had suspected Jiuqing, how on earth had she managed to be so brazen as to undress him?

Simply shameless.

If Jiuqing hadn’t stopped her, would she have gone ahead and pulled off his trousers too?

Heavens — what was she even thinking?

“The people who were lying in ambush… have they all withdrawn?” She cleared her throat softly, feigning composure as she asked Qiao Mu, who was riding alongside her.

“It was just a probe. Before long, there will most likely be a second round.”

Feng Jiu’er nodded, saying nothing more.

She did not dare look back — because she knew Jiuqing was walking not far behind her.

Was he or wasn’t he — Ninth Imperial Uncle?