“So beautiful!” Without even realizing it, the woman dressed in a flowing white robe had walked into the flowerbed filled with little golden chrysanthemums.

Feng Jiu’er, in her flowing white garments, moved through the sea of flowers like an immortal maiden, beautiful as a painting, poetic beyond words.

“Yes, it’s so beautiful!”

A man’s soft sigh came from behind her, but she paid it no heed.

Standing amid the sea of flowers, everything seemed so wonderful — no worries at all, only an unparalleled sense of ease.

Whether it was the flowers, the leaves, or the branches, Feng Jiu’er loved them all.

And that fresh fragrance, like a scent straight out of heaven, left her enraptured and enchanted.

After wandering through this little heaven for a while, Feng Jiu’er stopped in front of a cluster of flowers growing out sideways.

Her fair little hand reached forward, gently grasping that small cluster of golden chrysanthemums and bringing it to her nose, where she took a deep breath.

“So fragrant!” Carefully letting go of the little branch in her hand, Feng Jiu’er continued strolling forward.

Zhan Qingcheng, following behind her, watched her small figure amid the sea of flowers, unable to hide the joy on his face.

Walking on and on, surrounded entirely by little golden chrysanthemums, Feng Jiu’er’s body and mind both felt thoroughly freed.

The pent-up gloom in her heart finally seemed to truly unwind, and with a delighted expression, she turned back to look at the person behind her.

Under the sunlight, that handsome face grew ever more familiar, making Feng Jiu’er’s heart tremble involuntarily.

In her mind, a certain scene surfaced — him standing amid a vast sea of flowers, the air around brimming with her favorite scent.

It had been a night, and he had stood before her, just as he was now.

Just as domineering on the outside, yet with tenderness in his gaze — a pair of deep eyes more beautiful than the most precious gemstones in the world.

All around, flickering yellow-green lights had let her see that face with perfect clarity.

That’s right! It was him, truly him!

Feng Jiu’er felt as though she had returned to that very night — the entire world felt wonderful.

He had stayed quietly by her side, giving her courage, giving her strength.

Everything had seemed so peaceful, tranquil, and warm — as if with him there, she no longer needed to be afraid of anything at all.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.”

Suddenly, Feng Jiu’er strode forward with her long legs and threw herself at Zhan Qingcheng.

Watching the little girl throw herself at him, Zhan Qingcheng opened his arms of his own accord.

Feng Jiu’er crashed into him forcefully, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and pressing her head against his chest.

“Sorry! I don’t even know why — I just wanted to hold you properly. A little while of holding you will be enough.”

Tossing out those words, Feng Jiu’er tightened her hold even further.

Perhaps their past relationship hadn’t been quite what she had imagined.

But right now, she didn’t want to think about any of it — she just wanted to hold him properly.

Just a hug would do, simply a hug, a little while of it would be enough.

Zhan Qingcheng gently held the girl in his arms, the corners of his mouth lifting into a thoroughly delighted smile.

What he could give her was, of course, far more than just an embrace.

In such a familiar setting, the girl holding onto the man found her mood considerably improved.

But the scent lingering at the tip of her nose grew more and more familiar, and her mind grew ever more muddled.

Had they really not had that kind of relationship before? But then why was it that the closer the two of them got, the more her heart ached?

She had no idea how much time had passed before Feng Jiu’er let go of Zhan Qingcheng, lowering her head, not daring to look at him.

Zhan Qingcheng extended his long finger, pressing it beneath the little girl’s chin, gently tilting her head up.

“Done hugging me, and now planning to burn the bridge behind you?”

Taking a deep breath, Feng Jiu’er looked up to meet Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re my consort-attendant — you even have an objection to a single hug?”

“You can hug me, but no one else!” Zhan Qingcheng’s brow knit together, his eyes full of warning.

Just how possessive this War God Prince of the Bei Mu Kingdom could be — the Feng Jiu’er who hadn’t lost her memory would surely have known. Unfortunately, she truly had lost it.

Among ten consort-attendants, he was merely one of them — for a matter like that to happen to such a proud, domineering man, how could he possibly accept it?

“Remember, you can only belong to this prince!” Seeing that Feng Jiu’er said nothing, Zhan Qingcheng reminded her once more.

Feng Jiu’er shot him a glare, then turned around, her back facing him.

“That’s only what you want — have you ever asked for my opinion?”

Whatever relationship the two of them had had in the past, Feng Jiu’er knew very clearly that she didn’t dislike him at all.

No matter how cold, how domineering, or how self-assured he was, she still couldn’t bring herself to dislike him in the slightest.

Not only did she not dislike him, she rather felt she quite liked him.

She couldn’t remember, and didn’t want to dwell on it either — thinking too much made her head hurt.

Before Feng Jiu’er could keep complaining, the man behind her grabbed her small hand and gave it a gentle tug.

Caught off guard, Feng Jiu’er found herself back in the embrace she had just left.

“Girl.” Zhan Qingcheng furrowed his brows slightly, originally meaning to say that this was something she had already agreed to.

But with a flicker in his eyes, he changed his mind.

“Everything is for this prince to decide! Try disobeying me and see what happens!”

Feng Jiu’er looked up to meet the man’s gaze, her crescent brows tightly knit, her pink lips pouting slightly, not the least bit convinced.

Just as she was about to say something, she suddenly sensed that there seemed to be an extra presence in the air around them.

No, two presences — one of which felt familiar to her and had simply been ignored a moment ago, while now there was an additional, unfamiliar aura as well.

Feng Jiu’er glanced deeper into the flowerbed, then brought her gaze back to Zhan Qingcheng.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” She blinked and called out softly.

Zhan Qingcheng reached out his large hand and rubbed the little head in front of him.

“Go back first.”

His voice, like the palm of his hand, carried a touch of warmth that made her feel at ease.

But leaving him behind while he was still gravely wounded still left her uneasy.

“Nin— Ninth Imperial Uncle.”

Feng Jiu’er had wanted to say more, but upon seeing the resolute certainty in the man’s eyes, she could only nod.

“All right, I understand.” Take care of yourself!

That last sentence, Feng Jiu’er never actually said aloud.

Perhaps it was because she still wasn’t certain of their relationship — saying too much, she didn’t know whether it would be appropriate.

Zhan Qingcheng let go of the person in his arms, his gaze sweeping past the little girl to behind her.

“Take her back.”

Jian Yi appeared from who knew where, raising an eyebrow at the two people before him.

“Let’s go.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced once more at Zhan Qingcheng before turning to head back.

That presence suddenly receded into the distance; by the time Feng Jiu’er turned to look back, Zhan Qingcheng’s figure was already nowhere in sight.

Letting out a light sigh, Feng Jiu’er turned back around and continued following after Jian Yi.

“Who was that who came? Is he… could he be in danger?”

“It looks like you care about him quite a lot.” Jian Yi glanced sideways and said softly.

Feng Jiu’er eyed the person beside her, her lovely crescent brows furrowing slightly. “Shouldn’t I care about him?”

“Shouldn’t that be a question you ask yourself instead?”

Jian Yi tossed out the remark casually, his attention drifting back to the sea of flowers on either side.

A person who had never known how to appreciate flowers suddenly found himself thinking that even these little golden chrysanthemums could be this beautiful.

Whether it was because he’d been infected by the joy he’d seen in the little girl’s eyes moments ago, or something else entirely, Jian Yi himself didn’t know.

He simply thought the little golden chrysanthemums were pretty, and so found himself glancing at them a few more times without realizing it.

Whether it was the flowers that were beautiful, or the person, in truth, he still didn’t understand.