Feng Jiu’er had already gotten the response she wanted. Before Zhan Qingcheng could say a word, she gave him a gentle push.
Zhan Qingcheng had no guard up at all — it was effortless for Feng Jiu’er to slip free.
She casually snatched up the outer robe the man had just helped her remove, and leaped lightly into the air.
For a suspended moment, Feng Jiu’er’s white garment swept out in a beautiful arc — like an immortal descending from the heavens.
As she drifted slowly down, the robe settled back over her.
Feng Jiu’er’s breathtaking features, her figure perfect to the last detail, were as flawless as a celestial being — not a single flaw to be found.
Coupled with the sweet smile on her face, she was the very image of someone whose beauty could overturn kingdoms.
Even an ordinary person catching sight of her would be struck down for life — how much more so the Ninth Prince, standing there now?
“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Seeing the expression on his face, Feng Jiu’er’s spirits lifted considerably.
She stepped forward with light, easy strides, took the arm of the still-dazed Zhan Qingcheng, and steered him toward the door.
“Since it is Elder Di Wuya who has called for you, it must be something important. Go attend to it first.”
She guided him out through the chamber door before releasing him, then waved her hand.
“As for the robe — I will definitely wear it tonight at the Lantern Festival. We’ll see each other there. Goodbye!”
One last sweet smile for Zhan Qingcheng, and Feng Jiu’er pulled the chamber door shut.
The young woman leaned against the back of the door, both hands pressed over her lips to keep herself from laughing aloud.
The Ninth Imperial Uncle had not yet gone — how could she dare let herself laugh?
It was he who had said she was letting her thoughts wander, he who had claimed he had no other thoughts at all. Not giving him something to think about seemed a terrible waste of her beauty and her wits.
Still, the Ninth Imperial Uncle was far too easy to rattle. This sort of thing — it would be better to do it less in the future.
Yu Jingfeng, who had arrived at some point unnoticed, watched the man being pushed out by Miss Jiu’er and gave a small cough, not daring to utter a single word.
That sound pulled Zhan Qingcheng back to his senses.
He withdrew his gaze from the chamber door, turned, and made his way out.
Yu Jingfeng took one deep breath and quickened his steps to follow.
As for what state the Prince was actually in right now — he did not even dare to think about it.
Once they had left the courtyard gates, Yu Jingfeng said quietly, “Your Highness, the Elder Patriarch asks that you come by.”
“Move it up. Three days from now.” Zhan Qingcheng’s deep voice came low and steady.
Yu Jingfeng swallowed, whether from a tickle in his throat or something else, and gave another small cough.
“I am not sure… which matter Your Highness is referring to?”
He had returned to Phoenix City just now and come to report at once — he genuinely did not know which matter this referred to.
Zhan Qingcheng said nothing, but turned his head and swept the man who had fallen into step beside him with a brief glance.
Yu Jingfeng’s eyes went wide. He nodded. “Yes, I understand, Your Highness. I know.”
So it was that matter. How could he have failed to think of it?
Something of such importance — and he had not recalled it at once. It was not without reason that the Prince was displeased.
“However…” Something seemed to occur to Yu Jingfeng, and he looked troubled. “Three days — would that not be too rushed?”
Was it not agreed upon as seven days? Was His Highness too impatient to wait?
Before Yu Jingfeng could give full voice to his doubts, Zhan Qingcheng’s words came, each one sharp as a small blade slicing swiftly toward him.
“Does this Prince need to teach you how to do your job?”
“I would not dare, Your Highness. I would not dare.” Yu Jingfeng shook his head vigorously.
On the way back, he had spent the whole journey worrying that Miss Jiu’er might have reported him. But it seemed Miss Jiu’er had not said a word — it was simply that the Prince could not wait.
“Your Highness, I guarantee the matter will be completed without a hitch.”
Meeting Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze again, Yu Jingfeng added, “I guarantee Your Highness will be satisfied.”
Zhan Qingcheng swept Yu Jingfeng with a glance and quickened his pace.
Yu Jingfeng drew a sharp breath and hurried to keep up.
After Zhan Qingcheng left, Feng Jiu’er laughed happily alone in her chamber for quite some time — until Xiao Yingtao came knocking at her door.
Feng Jiu’er smoothed away the delight from her face and opened the door wide.
“What is it?”
“Can I not come to find you if nothing’s wrong?” Xiao Yingtao shot this blissfully content woman a look, then walked straight in.
She had seen perfectly clearly that the Ninth Prince had already left.
“Come look at my robe — I feel like something might be off with it.”
Xiao Yingtao’s voice drifted over, and Feng Jiu’er followed her inside.
After a full day and night of waiting, a full day and night of anticipation, on the evening of the thirtieth day of the year — the great night of reunion — Phoenix City’s annual Lantern Festival was about to begin.
The hour of Xu at the third quarter was an auspicious time, and the Lantern Festival officially commenced.
By the time darkness fell, Feng Jiu’er had still not seen Zhan Qingcheng again. However, Xue Gu and Tuoba Keyan, who had gone out earlier on errands, returned just in time.
Everyone shared a warm, lively reunion dinner together, and before long, they appeared near the Lantern Festival grounds.
The festival was set along the lake. Night had only just fallen, yet the streets were already filling with more and more people.
Every time Feng Jiu’er caught sight of Jian Yi, she itched to give him a thorough beating — yet she could not bear to leave him alone cooped up in his room, so she had dragged him out with them.
On the lively main street, Feng Jiu’er pushed Jian Yi along in the center, with Xiao Yingtao, Qiao Mu, and Zhao Xiaoxiao all walking almost shoulder to shoulder with her.
Mu Mu had slipped away after the reunion dinner, and Xue Gu said that the affairs of the young were not her business.
Behind the group of young women followed Zhao Yusheng, Xing Zizhou, and Tuoba Keyan.
“Jiu’er, your robe really does look more and more beautiful the longer I look at it.” Xiao Yingtao tugged at Feng Jiu’er’s sleeve.
“Exactly.” Qiao Mu glanced at Feng Jiu’er as well. “You said you were giving advice to us all, yet somehow my robe and yours are nowhere near the same level.”
“Jiu’er’s is matched with the Ninth Prince’s — how could we possibly compare ourselves to the Ninth Prince?” Xiao Yingtao leaned past Feng Jiu’er to look at Qiao Mu.
“Still, Jiu’er’s eye is exceptional — even the one she made casually for Jian Yi came out beautifully.”
She looked down at Jian Yi and her smile grew brighter.
“Jian Yi, you had best not make Jiu’er angry from now on — otherwise, who is going to make your robes?”
“Mm.” Jian Yi nodded, without looking back.
Yet anyone could see that his mood was quite good today.
Feng Jiu’er stared at the back of Jian Yi’s head, her voice dropping low. “From now on? There is no ‘from now on.'”
“Making clothes for others is a wife’s duty — let his own wife do it in the future.”
“See if any of you know a suitable young woman to introduce to him. Otherwise this fellow is going to keep clinging to me, and people who don’t know better will think he’s my husband.”
“So you’d have two husbands? How can you be so daring?” Qiao Mu said with a slight frown.
“Not two — three. No, four. Actually…”
“Xiao Yingtao, you had better make it even more exaggerated!” Feng Jiu’er cut her off and took a quick look around.
But the Ninth Prince had not even come to the reunion dinner, so he must be busy — he certainly would not show up at this moment.
Thinking of what had happened today, Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together in a small, quiet smile.
She wondered how that man had finally managed to take his leave. The Ninth Imperial Uncle — sometimes he was genuinely endearing, and she would not hear a word otherwise.