On the bed, the man whose complexion still carried a trace of pallor stirred his eyelids slightly.

He watched the girl slumbering on the chaise longue for a moment. His handsome brows drew together faintly, then he closed his eyes once more.

The night deepened, and it seemed as though everything, following the two occupants of the room into sleep, had grown still.

Feng Jiu’er shifted, settling into a more comfortable position, and drifted back into slumber.

A sense of warmth and safety permeated the air around her. The sleeping girl’s lips curved now and then into a soft, sweet smile.

At some unknown hour, the girl lying on the chaise longue tensed between her brows and instantly gathered all her scattered awareness.

As Feng Jiu’er startled awake, she found that the man who had been in the bed had at some point sat up. He turned to one side and placed himself between her and whatever lay beyond.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.”

Feng Jiu’er jumped down from the chaise longue, stepped around Zhan Qingcheng — who stood with his back straight and upright — and positioned herself before him, as though standing guard.

She had clearly sensed an unusual presence on the rooftop just moments ago, and that was what had jerked her awake so abruptly. Yet in that same instant, another distinct presence had appeared.

Two people had come — their breathing barely perceptible, yet their cultivation unmistakably formidable.

Feng Jiu’er could sense them — not because the people on the roof lacked depth of inner power, and certainly not because her own reserves of inner energy were exceptionally vast. It was something else entirely. It was a strange, instinctive awareness — a sense of overwhelming, immense presence that transcended breath and energy altogether.

Neither of the two seemed to be making any effort to conceal their presence. Even Feng Jiu’er could feel them.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, do not be afraid! I am here.”

She had not forgotten — Ninth Imperial Uncle was gravely injured, and he must not engage in combat right now. He must not circulate his inner energy.

Zhan Qingcheng looked at the small, slender figure standing before him, and the cold air around him dissipated considerably.

“It is all right. They have gone.” He took a long stride back and settled on the edge of the bed.

Feng Jiu’er glanced over at the man in the bed, her brows knitting slightly. Sure enough — she could no longer sense the slightest trace of any presence on the roof.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, do you know who it was?” She was still uneasy, and she had a nagging feeling that whoever had come was somehow connected to Ninth Imperial Uncle.

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing. He merely raised an eyebrow and let his gaze sweep toward the outer room.

Feng Jiu’er, too, seemed to sense something, and turned to look at the door of the wing room.

At that very moment, the door was pushed open from outside, and two tall figures appeared before Feng Jiu’er’s eyes.

They had already stopped walking, but the force of their presence still surged forward.

The wind stirred by their inner energy swept through and lifted Feng Jiu’er’s long hair — clearly they had been moving at considerable speed.

But for those of Mu Mu and Jian Yi’s cultivation level, that kind of pace was effortlessly within their control.

Both of their faces held a trace of concern, yet there was no panic in their bearing whatsoever.

“Just now — did someone enter?” Mu Mu looked at the two by the bed and asked quietly.

At the sudden appearance of Mu Mu and Jian Yi, Feng Jiu’er had not yet gathered her wits, and in an instant her line of sight was blocked.

By the time she had sorted out what was happening, she found her hands clutching a quilt that had fallen over her, with only her head sticking out from above it.

Feng Jiu’er looked down at herself. She understood at once why the quilt had come — Ninth Imperial Uncle did not want other men catching sight of her figure, did he?

But she was quite properly dressed in her inner garments, neat and covered. Was this man perhaps being just a little petty?

“No one entered, but I clearly sensed two entirely different and intensely powerful presences on the rooftop, and then they vanished without a trace.”

Someone had actually infiltrated the Princess’ Hall — Feng Jiu’er could not afford to be careless about this.

And so, Ninth Imperial Uncle’s pettiness would simply have to be set aside for now.

Hearing Feng Jiu’er’s words, Mu Mu and Jian Yi exchanged a glance, then turned and disappeared from the bedchamber in an instant.

In moments, they were on the rooftop.

The clear, bright moonlight spilled down. A white-haired man with flowing locks stood motionless atop the roof, his expression blank, sensing the movements all around him.

Jian Yi, equally tall and commanding, paused at one spot on the rooftop and came to a stop.

He stared at the glazed tiles for a moment, then looked back at the person behind him.

“Two people did come. From the look of it, both had traveled a long way in great haste.”

Jian Yi could not know who had come, nor why they had turned and left, and could only tell Mu Mu what he had observed.

“There is foreign dust on the glazed tiles. This visit was clearly made in great urgency — yet just as Jiu’er said, both of them left again very quickly.”

Mu Mu looked over at Jian Yi and nodded, his expression grave.

“What else did you find?”

Jian Yi studied the scene for another moment, then stood, and turned to meet his gaze.

“The cultivation of both of them is no lower than mine.” This was something he had been certain of from the moment they arrived.

Mu Mu said nothing. His expression darkened further.

He gazed out into the distance for a moment, then turned and leapt away.

Since the people were already gone, it was impossible to give chase. Jian Yi did not linger either, and turned to follow.

Without disturbing any of the eunuchs or palace maids, the two of them made their way back into the bedchamber.

Feng Jiu’er, who had been firmly told to go and put on proper clothes, had barely finished pulling her outer robe on before the two who had gone out returned.

“Well?” She gave the sash of her robe a casual tug and looked up at the two who had entered.

“They are gone. They came and left in a hurry.” Jian Yi replied.

Mu Mu’s gaze shifted to the man still seated on the edge of the bed, his expression growing several shades darker.

“Whatever happens — you must not circulate your energy again!” That face — it looked even more pallid than before.

Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze swept briefly across Mu Mu, and in that single glance, signaled that he had taken his words to heart.

Between two brothers, communication was often nothing more than one look, and nothing more.

Mu Mu had no desire to say more. There were things he needed to go and attend to, and no one could stop him.

Feng Jiu’er glanced back at Zhan Qingcheng, her own heart weighted with a quiet unease.

The room fell silent for a moment, then Mu Mu’s voice rose once more.

“As for the matter of the sacred martial arts manual — every person we could send out to search has been dispatched, and yet to this day, not a single piece of news has come back.”

“I am beginning to suspect whether the Feng Clan truly possesses such a manual at all — or indeed, whether such a manual exists in this world at all.”

“Our people from Tianji Hall have also found nothing.” Jian Yi looked at the person behind Feng Jiu’er, lowering his voice as well. “I am inclined to agree with Mu Mu — if such a manual truly existed, how could we not have found even a whisper of it?”

Mu Mu’s and Jian Yi’s words left everyone in silence once again.

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing. No one could tell what he was thinking.

Feng Jiu’er looked at the two before her, wanting to ask, yet not knowing how to begin.

This matter had been brought up by Jian Yi once before, but she did not know the details.

“How can there exist such a mysterious manual anywhere in this world? Could it not simply be a rumor?”

She truly could not bring herself to believe that such an all-powerful martial arts manual was real.

“Is that something that ought to be said by someone whose martial arts have been completely destroyed?”

If her cultivation had been demolished, and yet she was brought here to search for the manual — what on earth did that person intend?

She had, in truth, already begun to believe that she had genuinely come from a place called Bei Mu, along with the people before her.

Yet she still had so many unanswered questions that she had not yet worked through.

Why was it, too, that she believed herself to be a princess of the Feng Clan?

The two things were plainly contradictory on their face, and yet she believed them both — believed in these people, and believed she was a princess.

Her feelings on the matter were so tangled and complicated that they were very nearly driving her to the edge of madness.