He told her not to cry — but he didn’t know that those three words, girl, it’s me, were precisely what undid her.

The tears fell in a rush. Feng Jiu’er cried with abandon, cried like the sky itself had opened.

Let her cry — just let her cry. She had missed him so deeply, and had been so terrified she would never see him again.

From the day her martial arts had been destroyed to this very moment, the truth was that she had been living under suffocating pressure the entire time.

She had become so fragile — needing others to protect her wherever she went. She was not accustomed to this life, and yet she had no choice but to accept it.

Because she had no other option. Her martial arts were not something she had let go of willingly — they had been taken from her. What could she do?

Everyone kept her in the palm of their hand, carefully sheltered — yet only she knew what she truly wanted. She wanted to stand at the front, ahead of all of them, and guard them herself.

This kind of protection — she did not want it. She did not want any of it.

She refused to be weak. She refused.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

Zhan Qingcheng’s broad hand came to rest atop her head, and he pressed it gently against his chest.

“I’m sorry…”

Keeping this from her had never been his intention. He had only wanted to spare her more worry than she already carried.

He had not foreseen that it would cause her even more pain.

Jiu’er shook her head. He had absolutely nothing to apologize to her for. If anything, it was she who should be saying it to him.

“I was the one who dragged you into this.” Half a kingdom — won at such tremendous cost, placed into his hands.

And yet, for her sake, he had abandoned all of it and followed her to this strange and uncertain place, where there was no telling whether either of them would walk out alive.

In truth, she had long suspected Jiu Qing’s identity — because he truly resembled her Ninth Imperial Uncle. The resemblance was striking, undeniable.

And yet she had been unwilling to let herself suspect it. Because this particular suspicion filled her with dread.

She missed him — and yet she didn’t want to truly find him here. She hoped he was who she thought, and feared it in equal measure.

She had wanted to test him more than once. But each time, she had been too afraid.

When he truly turned out to be him — she was moved, overwhelmed — and yet she was genuinely frightened.

She didn’t know how long she cried before finally lifting her face from his chest, eyes swimming, looking up at him. “But, Ninth Imperial Uncle — what do we do?”

“Don’t worry. I have Phoenix City arranged. And at the imperial capital, there is someone watching over the prince’s manor.”

“You mean Emperor Ji?” Jiu’er bit her lip. But Emperor Ji’s martial arts — she feared they weren’t enough.

“You’re worried about the one in the palace?” If the masked woman in white from the palace came looking herself, then yes — with Emperor Ji’s level of skill, he truly couldn’t hold her off.

“It’s fine. There are others.” He said it simply.

Jiu’er raised her gaze to his face. This face — flawlessly constructed, without a single crack in it.

Yet from the very first day, she had felt that his presence and her Ninth Imperial Uncle’s were so alike, so uncannily alike.

She refused to believe she was the kind of person whose heart could stray so easily — how could she have felt so drawn to any man other than her Ninth Imperial Uncle?

He had to be him. He simply had to be.

Zhan Qingcheng raised a long finger and gently brushed away the wetness at the corner of her eye.

He hadn’t expected her to have this many tears in her. Seeing how much she had wept just now was enough to ache the heart.

But even as he was wiping her tears, Jiu’er suddenly rose onto her toes, hooked her arms around his neck, and pulled him toward her.

The moment their lips brushed, the touch deepened at once into a full kiss.

She had missed him — but how much less had he missed the scent of her?

This girl simply did not know just how deeply he was bound to her.

Zhan Qingcheng’s arm settled at the curve of her back, holding her locked against him.

A soft form, a sweet warmth — here, real and solid, in his arms at last.

In this moment, it felt almost dreamlike.

His palm, damp with sweat, couldn’t help but slip beneath the hem of her garment…

“Mm — Ninth Imperial Uncle, Ninth Imperial Uncle!” Jiu’er nearly drowned in his presence.

A cool gust of wind drifted in from somewhere, and the little bit of clarity it brought her was barely enough to surface.

Zhan Qingcheng withdrew his hand from beneath her hem and drew her into his embrace, breathing unsteadily.

The sound of her Ninth Imperial Uncle catching his breath was truly something else. Jiu’er simply listened to it, and was already intoxicated — every bit of strength left her body, and she sank softly against him.

She was catching her breath too, her chest rising and falling without rest.

Being pressed this close to her Ninth Imperial Uncle — and this time, not even the faintest impulse to resist arose in her. If anything, she was a little lost in it…

“It’s not yet the right time. Clear your head.”

The man took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to it.

Feng Jiu’er looked up at him. His voice was truly lovely — so lovely it could send a woman’s very ears into a flutter.

But those words… something about them seemed a little off.

Feng Jiu’er turned it over in her mind, and suddenly her eyes flew wide open. She stared at Zhan Qingcheng, her small face going completely red.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle!”

What did he mean, it’s not yet the right time — clear your head?

What was that supposed to mean? Was he blaming her for being too forward just now, leaving them both in such an impossible state at such an inopportune moment?

Zhan Qingcheng bowed his head and pressed a light kiss to her cheek, his voice even lower than usual — dangerously, devastatingly so.

“I can barely stand the wait myself. Once we return to the imperial capital, I’ll bring my mother back to Phoenix City — and have her preside over our wedding.”

Just thinking about how soft she had felt beneath his hand a moment ago was enough to send his blood rushing with heat.

His own breathing was unsteady, and he had almost lost himself entirely.

“Once we return to Phoenix City, we’ll be wed. I want you.”

Feng Jiu’er’s heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle, lurched back into a frantic rhythm.

Her Ninth Imperial Uncle was always like this. When he wanted something, he meant it with every part of himself — he never concealed it, and he had no need to.

Her Ninth Imperial Uncle, always so unguarded, always so direct — and always so irresistibly, dangerously intoxicating.

“Well?” The man’s breath fell warm across her face. He held her gaze, those eyes waiting for her answer as though he had all the patience in the world.

He had actually learned to ask first.

Jiu’er bit her lip. She was just about to nod.

Before she could, he had already grown impatient and announced on her behalf, “I have decided.”

“…” Speechless.

She hadn’t even said no. Would it kill him to give her just a little more time to answer?

Her Ninth Imperial Uncle — his face had changed on this journey, but his nature was exactly as it had always been. Still this domineering. Still this incapable of patience.

And yet it was precisely this version of him that made her helpless against her own feelings.

She wished, right now, she could marry him this very instant — swallow him whole and be done with it.

No — that thought was truly shameless. She absolutely could not let him find out about it.

“You… can decide. Is that good enough?” It sounded like exasperation — but if you listened carefully, there was a faint, unmistakable thread of happiness running through it.

Whatever differences in standing, whatever gulf between their two worlds — let all of it go to ruin.

After everything they had survived together, aside from death itself, nothing else was a problem anymore.

Since she loved him — then she would love him completely, without reservation.

Once they returned to Phoenix City, she was going to marry her Ninth Imperial Uncle — and she was going to swallow him whole.

From this day forward, this man was hers — in this lifetime, and every lifetime to come. He could belong to no one else.

He was hers, and hers alone.