Feng Jiu’er coughed lightly and reached up to touch her own face. “Is it really that red?”

Composing herself, she finally registered what Xiao Yingtao had said.

Glancing sideways at her, Feng Jiu’er said evenly, “I’m a proud daughter of the Feng family—how could I let myself be bullied?”

“And of course I wouldn’t bully a patient. It was just from exerting my energy a moment ago. Don’t go imagining things!”

“The Ninth Prince is injured?” Xiao Yingtao gripped Feng Jiu’er’s hand tighter, her expression turning anxious.

Who didn’t know that it was the Ninth Prince who had saved everyone yesterday?

In the past, people had only heard he was the War God Prince, but few had actually witnessed it firsthand.

This time, the Ninth Prince had descended like a deity, driving out the entire enemy army within a single day—everyone had seen it with their own eyes.

Even though Xiao Yingtao had been by Feng Jiu’er’s side for a long while, what had happened yesterday had still left her wide-eyed with astonishment—let alone everyone else.

So it was only natural that Xiao Yingtao would be worried to hear the Ninth Prince was injured.

“Just surface wounds, nothing serious,” Feng Jiu’er said softly, raising an eyebrow.

In no time, the two of them had arrived at the place where everyone was eating.

No one in the camp failed to show Zhan Qingcheng respect, and more than that, curiosity.

Zhao Yusheng especially, along with his men.

Zhao Yusheng was willing to follow Feng Jiu’er partly for her own sake, and partly, of course, because of Zhan Qingcheng, the War God Prince he had long admired.

As for his men, most of them didn’t even know Feng Jiu’er—they had simply heard they were going to join the War God Prince, and that alone had made them eager.

Having witnessed Zhan Qingcheng’s prowess the day before, the brothers were still buzzing with excitement even now.

Seeing Feng Jiu’er approach, the brothers gathered around the meal all stood up at once.

“Miss Jiu’er,” they called out in unison.

Feng Jiu’er looked at them all and nodded.

“Sit, no need to stand on ceremony.”

“Yes, Miss Jiu’er.” The brothers nodded and sat back down.

“Jiu’er.” Zhao Yusheng offered Feng Jiu’er a chair.

Seeing her, his face carried a faint smile, but somehow it gave off a gloomy, troubled feeling.

“Zhao Yusheng, what’s wrong? How are the injured brothers doing?” Feng Jiu’er studied him, brows knitting together.

“Jiu’er, sit down first.” Zhao Yusheng waved a hand.

Feng Jiu’er sat, looking up at him. “How are things? Tell me.”

Seeing no response from Zhao Yusheng, Feng Jiu’er turned to look at Xiao Yingtao instead.

“How are the injured brothers? Stop being so cryptic, just tell me.”

“Everyone’s been settled,” Xiao Yingtao said softly. “There’s still enough medicine for now, though I’ve also sent people to buy more in town.”

“Nothing’s wrong for the moment, Jiu’er, don’t worry.”

Xiao Yingtao took the bowl and chopsticks handed to her by one of the brothers and passed them over to Feng Jiu’er.

“Zhao Yusheng’s been in a bad mood because—”

“Ahem—” Zhao Yusheng cleared his throat loudly, sitting down beside Feng Jiu’er. “I’m not in a bad mood. Jiu’er, eat up, you must be hungry too.”

As long as nothing had gone wrong with the brothers, Feng Jiu’er could relax.

Looking at the table full of dishes before her, her stomach growled without her meaning it to.

In camp, having hot dishes to eat wasn’t easy to come by, let alone such a variety—her mouth watered just looking at it all.

More than a few people heard Feng Jiu’er’s stomach rumbling.

The brothers nearly all smiled at once, waving a hand. “Miss Jiu’er, eat.”

One of the brothers spoke up softly. “We didn’t know Miss Jiu’er would be joining us, so we started without waiting—our apologies.”

“It’s fine, everyone keep going,” Feng Jiu’er nodded at the one who had spoken, picking up a bowl of hot rice and taking a bite.

Seeing that Feng Jiu’er wasn’t one to fuss over formalities, the brothers continued enjoying their hard-earned meal.

Even though many of them already knew why Zhao Yusheng wasn’t in the best of moods, no one said anything more about it.

It was understandable that Zhao Yusheng’s mood would be off.

Seeing his own wife come out of another man’s tent—how could he not care? Even if Feng Jiu’er had never once acknowledged their union.

Taking a bite of hot rice, Feng Jiu’er glanced back without thinking.

The tent’s curtain hadn’t been lifted, and she had no idea how things were inside.

Ninth Imperial Uncle must be hungry too—was it because he’d left Phoenix City in such a hurry that so much had been left unattended?

Still, no matter how much there was to deal with, a meal still had to be eaten.

“Jiu’er, eat more.” Zhao Yusheng picked out a piece of meat and set it in front of Feng Jiu’er.

Zhao Yusheng’s voice pulled Feng Jiu’er’s attention back.

She turned to glance at him, picked up the piece of meat he’d given her, and put it in her mouth.

Zhao Yusheng watched her for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

Feng Jiu’er paid him no further mind, picking up dishes, eating, finishing her rice.

Before long, her entire bowl of rice was gone.

Just as Zhao Yusheng was about to say something else, Feng Jiu’er set down her bowl and chopsticks.

“Jiu’er, full already?” Xiao Yingtao asked, frowning slightly.

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er looked at her and nodded. “I’m going to bring some food for Ninth Imperial Uncle.”

Tossing out those words, Feng Jiu’er, who hadn’t even been seated for fifteen minutes, stood and turned to leave.

Zhao Yusheng watched her retreating figure for a long while, unable to recover his composure.

“Zhao Yusheng, still staring?” Xiao Yingtao glanced at him flatly.

Zhao Yusheng turned back, cleared his throat, and said nothing.

“Jiu’er and the Ninth Prince are the real match here. Last time, it was your own clan that forced Jiu’er into that wedding ceremony with you—and you actually took it seriously?”

Xiao Yingtao looked at Zhao Yusheng and sighed softly.

“If you haven’t actually fallen for Jiu’er yet, you’d better drop this notion now, before it turns into real feelings and becomes a real problem.”

“I think the young master really has fallen for the young… fallen for Miss Jiu’er,” one of the brothers said with a smile.

Zhao Yusheng shot the speaker a glance and said evenly, “I have no feelings of any kind.”

“No matter what anyone says, Jiu’er is still the wife I bowed before heaven with. I won’t fail her, not in this lifetime.”

“But Jiu’er doesn’t need you to do that. All she wants is for you to be her brother,” Xiao Yingtao shook her head.

As Qiao Mu had once said, there was nothing really wrong with Zhao Yusheng—he was just too stubborn for his own good.

Trying to explain things to him was like talking to a wall.

“I know exactly what I need to do with my own affairs. No need for any of you to worry,” Zhao Yusheng said flatly.

“That’s not how it works, young master. The Madam, she—”

“Enough chatter!” Before the brother could finish, Zhao Yusheng cut him off. “Hurry up and eat, there’s still plenty to do.”

“Yes,” the brother said, nodding.

Before the silence could settle for even a moment, the same brother looked up at Zhao Yusheng again. “Young master, don’t blame me for speaking out of turn…”

“And this isn’t speaking out of turn?” Zhao Yusheng glanced at him sideways. “I’ll give you one more incense stick’s worth of time—go feed the horses, and don’t you dare slip up!”

The brother pressed his lips together, lowered his gaze, and finally nodded.