Feng Jiu’er hadn’t guessed wrong—of the three people Ye Luocha had mentioned, the remaining one referred to her.

After breakfast, everyone who needed to leave had left, and only Zhan Qingcheng, Mu Mu, and Feng Jiu’er remained.

Looking at the woman standing in front of her, Feng Jiu’er was startled for a moment before nodding.

“I was actually planning to have some clothes made for the new year myself. Thank you, Elder Ye.”

Feng Jiu’er was willing to go with Ye Luocha, and Zhan Qingcheng and Mu Mu didn’t say much, simply following along as she left.

Once everyone in the courtyard was out of sight, Xiao Yingtao and Qiao Mu, who had just gone into the side chamber, came back out.

“Qiao Mu, do you think something might happen to Jiu’er?” Xiao Yingtao asked in a low voice.

“With the Ninth Prince and Mu Mu there, what could possibly happen to her?” Qiao Mu replied softly.

Both Xiao Yingtao and Qiao Mu knew clearly about the time Ye Luocha and Emperor Ji had once made an attempt on Feng Jiu’er’s life.

But Feng Jiu’er had instructed that no one was to mention it, and the two of them had never breathed a word of it to anyone.

“It seems like Jiu’er has forgotten about that matter, but I know she still cares about it,” Xiao Yingtao’s voice continued.

“The closer we got to the city gates, the worse her color looked.”

“Who could forget something that threatened her life?” Qiao Mu glanced at Xiao Yingtao. “But with the Ninth Prince there, and everyone else too, how could she not come back?”

Xiao Yingtao nodded, letting out a faint sigh.

“Jiu’er and the Ninth Prince have really been through so much hardship together. I just hope this time Ye Luocha and Emperor Ji truly accept Jiu’er.”

“Who knows? It’s still better to stay on guard,” Qiao Mu sighed softly.

“Mm.” Xiao Yingtao nodded and said nothing more.

Having not seen Ye Luocha in a long while, Feng Jiu’er couldn’t quite say what she felt seeing her again.

In any case, she could only do what she ought to do—she would absolutely not try to curry favor.

After the tailor had taken the measurements for Zhan Qingcheng and Mu Mu, his gaze fell on Feng Jiu’er.

“Miss Jiu’er…”

“Let this prince do it.” Before the tailor could finish, Zhan Qingcheng had already snatched the measuring tape from his hand.

The tailor knew perfectly well that, as a man, it wasn’t proper for him to take a woman’s measurements.

But since General Ye hadn’t mentioned a woman needing clothes made, and the Ninth Prince and General Mu weren’t people he could afford to slight, he’d had no choice but to come in person.

He hadn’t expected there to be a woman as well.

That Miss Jiu’er was the apple of the Ninth Prince’s eye was something that had spread through most of Phoenix City within less than a day—how could the tailor dare act carelessly?

Having heard nothing from General Ye the whole time, the tailor had just steeled himself and walked toward Feng Jiu’er.

Zhan Qingcheng passed by him carrying an air of chill, even snatching the measuring tape right out of his hand—the tailor not collapsing in fright was already quite something.

Looking at the man approaching her, Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together but didn’t refuse.

Holding the measuring tape, Zhan Qingcheng stood in front of Feng Jiu’er and measured her shoulder width with a serious, proper manner.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at him, coughed lightly, and raised both arms.

This business of measuring really wasn’t something a man should be doing for a woman, especially in ancient times.

A moment ago, watching the tailor’s gaze land on her, Feng Jiu’er had guessed her man might react this way.

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing, bending down in front of Feng Jiu’er to take her measurements, looking quite professional as he did so.

Watching his earnest manner, the way he wouldn’t even let the soft tape touch her carelessly, Feng Jiu’er’s heart felt as though it had been filled with honey.

Father, Mother—she liked this man more and more. What was she supposed to do?

“There.” Zhan Qingcheng stood and said softly.

Only then did Feng Jiu’er obediently lower her arms, looking up rather dazedly to meet his gaze.

Was she the only one who got to be served by the Ninth Prince himself? How proud was that, really?

Hearing Zhan Qingcheng’s voice, the tailor suddenly snapped back to attention.

He turned to grab his notebook and pen, hurried back in front of Zhan Qingcheng as fast as he could, and respectfully held the notebook out to him.

“Ninth Prince, here you are!”

Zhan Qingcheng gave the girl beside him a faint smile, then turned and took the notebook and pen from the tailor’s hands.

Feng Jiu’er had originally doubted whether he’d actually taken her measurements properly, but seeing him so earnest now, she found it hard to keep doubting.

Still, she really did want to sneak a peek at what the Ninth Imperial Uncle was writing.

Unfortunately, with Ye Luocha there as well, Feng Jiu’er had to hold back and couldn’t simply do as she pleased.

The tailor took the notebook and pen back from the Ninth Prince, stepped back two paces, and turned his gaze to Ye Luocha.

“General Ye, I’m not sure when it would be convenient for you all to come to the shop and pick out fabric—either way, this humble one will have the clothes made today no matter what.”

Ye Luocha was neither warm nor cold, much as she usually was.

Even just now, watching Zhan Qingcheng bow and scrape to take Feng Jiu’er’s measurements, she hadn’t said a single word.

Turning her gaze to Zhan Qingcheng and Mu Mu, she said quietly, “The fabric shop is less than a li from here.”

“Do A’Jiu and Mu’er plan to pick the fabric yourselves, or shall I make the decision for you?”

Zhan Qingcheng put an arm lightly around Feng Jiu’er and turned to look at Mu Mu. “I have something to attend to. You go with the girl.”

“Mm.” Mu Mu nodded, saying nothing more.

Zhan Qingcheng gently rubbed Feng Jiu’er’s head, looking down at her, his eyes brimming with tenderness.

“Don’t go wandering off, understood?”

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er met his gaze and nodded.

It turned out that sometimes, having someone willing to treat you as a child was also a kind of happiness.

Feng Jiu’er found that the more she looked at him, the more she liked him—liked him so much that she truly wanted to rise up on her toes and kiss him, if only she could reach that high.

Still, with Ye Luocha standing right there, was it really all right for them to be so close?

Whether it was all right or not didn’t seem to be up to her to decide—if the Ninth Imperial Uncle said it was fine, then it was fine, and no one else got a say.

So, it seemed, this wasn’t something she needed to worry about after all.

Zhan Qingcheng rubbed Feng Jiu’er’s head once more before letting her go and turning to leave.

Before he left, he didn’t so much as glance at Ye Luocha.

Mu Mu’s manner was much the same—even toward his own master, he wouldn’t exchange so much as a word with Ye Luocha.

Ye Luocha likely understood the two brothers’ temperaments better than she did herself, and Feng Jiu’er didn’t want to dwell on it further.

Turning back to look at Ye Luocha, she said softly, “Elder Ye, there’s really no need to go to all this trouble.”

“I’ve already arranged with my friends to go get clothes made together after breakfast. If you’d like…”

“It’s fine if your friends come along too—just say they’re all part of our Ninth Prince’s household,” Ye Luocha cut Feng Jiu’er off.

“If you feel it’s inconvenient with me around, you and Mu’er are welcome to take everyone out yourselves.”

“That’s… not really inconvenient.” Feng Jiu’er shook her head.

Though she truly didn’t want to go out with Ye Luocha, she also couldn’t be too blunt about it.

Just as Feng Jiu’er was about to say something more, Mu Mu’s voice rang out.

“I’ll take everyone out.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Mu Mu walked toward Feng Jiu’er.

“Let’s go, it’s getting late.”