“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” After who knew how long, Feng Jiu’er’s voice rang out again.

Zhan Qingcheng only rubbed her head once more, still not giving her the answer she wanted.

Time passed quickly, and before long the convoy had drawn close to the city gates.

After trying many times and still getting no response, Feng Jiu’er could only give up.

The crucial thing was that Ninth Imperial Uncle’s lips were sealed tight — even if she didn’t want to give up, she had no choice.

“We’ve finally arrived.” Looking up at the characters above the city gate, Feng Jiu’er glanced back and raised an eyebrow lightly. “Zhuiyue.”

Zhuiyue, who had followed them the whole way, let out a cry and came to their side.

Just as Feng Jiu’er was about to leave the embrace of a certain man, Zhan Qingcheng tightened his hold on her.

Feng Jiu’er glanced over at Zhan Qingcheng, her brows furrowing.

“What, do you want to ride into the city on the same horse as me too?” She absolutely would not allow that! Who knew how many pairs of eyes inside the city would be watching?

Ninth Imperial Uncle’s own people — she didn’t mind them. They were all brothers who had been through life and death together, and none of them would think ill of her.

But back inside the city, weren’t Di Ji and Ye Luosha still there, along with their lackeys?

Having died once already, Feng Jiu’er was hardly one to say she wasn’t afraid.

What was more, she didn’t want to see Ninth Imperial Uncle placed in a difficult position either.

“Why not?” Zhan Qingcheng glanced down at her, showing no intention of letting Feng Jiu’er go.

Feng Jiu’er struggled, but couldn’t break free. She looked up to meet his gaze, blinking.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I… don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you want to?” Zhan Qingcheng asked in a deep voice.

Feng Jiu’er bit her lip, sighed softly, and looked away.

Gazing at the open city gates, she wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it.

She had originally been looking forward to going back to his side, where she would soon get to see Mu Mu, Qiao Mu, and everyone else — that thought made her happy.

But the moment she thought of having to face Di Ji and Ye Luosha again, her mood soured.

A warm large hand closed over her small one, and the man’s gentle voice fell over her head.

“Everyone is waiting for you to come back. Why the sigh?”

At that moment, Zhuifeng had already stepped through the city gate.

Inside the gate, many of the brothers and townsfolk were waiting on either side, smiles on every face.

As Zhan Qingcheng and Feng Jiu’er entered, everyone called out in unison: “Welcome back to the city, Miss Jiu’er! Welcome back to the city, Miss Jiu’er!”

Amid the warmth of the brothers and townsfolk, Feng Jiu’er’s spirits quickly lifted.

She straightened her back, looked at everyone, and waved.

The smiles on everyone’s faces were exactly what Feng Jiu’er wanted to see — she hadn’t expected that, with the war having only just ended, Phoenix City would have recovered so well already.

The joyful voices of the crowd kept rising, wave after wave.

Feng Jiu’er glanced back at Zhan Qingcheng, the corners of her mouth lifting into a pleased smile.

“Did you have to arrange such a big welcome for me? Isn’t this a bit much?”

“This prince only just received word of your return himself,” Zhan Qingcheng replied softly.

In other words, this wasn’t something he had arranged.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together, looked away, and let her gaze fall once more on the townsfolk lining the street.

“It seems that wherever you are, the people aren’t even afraid of war.”

Feng Jiu’er had no intention of flattering anyone — these were simply her true thoughts.

The war had only just ended, yet the people’s faces were filled with happiness and contentment.

Such happiness couldn’t be faked, nor could it be concealed.

Continuing forward, the townsfolk lining both sides of the road cheered every time Zhan Qingcheng and Feng Jiu’er passed.

Seeing everyone busy hanging lanterns and decorations, Feng Jiu’er finally remembered.

“Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, the day of the grand reunion — how did I forget that?”

The words had barely left her mouth when she turned to look at Zhan Qingcheng.

No wonder this fellow kept emphasizing that it would be tomorrow — she had actually forgotten about that. Thinking of how much breath she’d wasted earlier, Feng Jiu’er realized just how foolish she’d been.

In the sunlight, Zhan Qingcheng held the woman in his arms gently, the corners of his mouth lifting into a pleased smile.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at his devastatingly handsome face and turned back around.

“Girl, we’ve traveled for so many days — shall we go back and rest a while first?”

“No!” Feng Jiu’er leaned forward, nearly slipping free of his hold.

Watching the townsfolk busy on both sides of the street, Feng Jiu’er’s voice carried on, “I want to walk around. Let’s get off the horse and walk.”

“You’re free to go on ahead if you’re busy. If not, keep me company.”

The street was so lively — she wasn’t in any hurry to go back so soon.

If she had bad luck and ran into Di Ji and Ye Luosha, she wasn’t sure she’d get any rest even if she wanted it.

After everything that had happened, Feng Jiu’er had no way of knowing whether they had truly given up on the idea of eliminating her.

Perhaps, for Ninth Imperial Uncle’s sake, she should let these matters go — when they weren’t face to face she could put it out of her mind, but how could she forget the moment they actually met?

So, it was better to avoid running into them as much as possible.

“All right.” Zhan Qingcheng released the woman in his arms. “This prince will keep you company.”

Zhuifeng seemed to understand Zhan Qingcheng’s words, and the moment he spoke, the horse came to a stop.

Freed at last, Feng Jiu’er didn’t wait for Zhan Qingcheng to act — she flipped lightly off the horse on her own.

Zhan Qingcheng’s tall frame moved to stand beside Feng Jiu’er, and he wrapped his arms around her once more.

“No.” Feng Jiu’er hastily pushed his arm away and stepped forward. “Hugging and holding in public, what kind of behavior is that!”

Pushed away, the Ninth Prince showed no sign of anger, only smiling indulgently as he stepped forward to follow.

On the main street, many townsfolk busy hanging lanterns looked up as the Ninth Prince and Miss Jiu’er passed by, their faces breaking into smiles as bright as the sunlight overhead that day.

“Miss Jiu’er, I’ve just made some fresh osmanthus cakes — won’t you try one?” An elderly woman approached, holding out a plate of pastries.

Feng Jiu’er glanced back at Zhan Qingcheng before turning her gaze to meet the woman’s eyes.

She picked up a small bamboo skewer from the plate, speared a piece of cake, and put it in her mouth, nodding with a smile.

“Mm, delicious! Thank you.”

“Miss Jiu’er is too polite!” The woman’s face lit up with delight. “If Miss Jiu’er likes them, I’ll make some more and have them sent to your residence.”

“Old woman, don’t you go holding up the Prince’s good fortune,” an elderly man said with a beaming smile as he stepped out of the house.

“Quite right, quite right.” The old woman nodded with a smile. “Then I won’t keep the Prince and Miss Jiu’er any longer. Prince, Miss Jiu’er, do take your time!”

“All right.” Feng Jiu’er returned the old woman’s smile, then glanced back at Zhan Qingcheng once more.

She only smiled briefly before continuing forward.

After nodding to the elderly couple, Zhan Qingcheng followed in Feng Jiu’er’s footsteps.

Soon word spread that the Prince and Miss Jiu’er were strolling through the streets, and quite a few townsfolk came out hoping for a glimpse of Miss Jiu’er’s renowned bearing.

Yet to their surprise, most of their attention ended up fixed on Zhan Qingcheng instead.

Everyone could see that their Prince had smiled — the perpetually silent, expressionless Prince had actually smiled today.

Their Prince had smiled, and smiled so happily at that.