Lu Beicheng’s and Ji Mingyu’s eyes landed on Zhen Jiu’er’s face at the same moment.

Her face had gone deathly pale, her eyes unfocused — something was clearly wrong.

Seeing her hand clutching the Young Master’s coat, Ji Mingyu’s heart lurched, and he hurried to speak up for her. “Young Master, I think she… doesn’t seem to be feeling well at all.”

In fact, Zhen Jiu’er seemed to be losing awareness altogether.

The helicopter had only just taken off; there were still several hours of travel ahead. How would she make it through?

Right now, what worried Ji Mingyu most was whether the Young Master might just pick her up and toss her out of the cabin door.

The Young Master despised women who used excuses to get close to him!

Lu Beicheng’s expression had indeed turned grim.

He resisted any woman’s attempt to get close to him.

But the instant his gaze landed on Zhen Jiu’er’s face, the hand he’d been about to raise stopped, inexplicably, in midair.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…” Zhen Jiu’er genuinely seemed to be losing consciousness, her eyes unable even to focus.

“Young Master, she—”

Lu Beicheng’s icy gaze swept over.

Ji Mingyu, startled, hastily shut his mouth and didn’t dare say another word.

Though the Young Master’s expression was grim, he didn’t seem angry?

Whether or not she’d sensed that the hostility from the cold man beside her had lessened, Zhen Jiu’er grew even bolder, leaning in closer. “Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

Ji Mingyu’s whole body went rigid.

This girl had some nerve!

But he didn’t dare say a word.

He didn’t even dare make a sound.

Lu Beicheng’s brow knit together as he looked down at the girl clinging to his arm; his arm nearly jerked in an instinct to fling her off.

But he didn’t.

Zhen Jiu’er’s small, palm-sized face was ghostly pale, without a trace of color.

Why did she keep calling him Ninth Imperial Uncle?

Did he resemble someone she used to know?

But Lu Beicheng had no memory of her whatsoever.

Ninth Imperial Uncle… the title inexplicably stirred something warm in his chest.

The hand that had meant to push her away somehow ended up resting on her head instead, gently ruffling her hair. “It’s fine. We’ll be there soon.”

Sitting up front, Ji Mingyu went rigid all over, nearly choking on his own saliva in shock!

Was that voice he’d just heard really the Young Master’s?

No longer icy enough to terrify, no longer so bitterly cold that people feared him.

Instead, it was so gentle — and within that gentleness, there was even the faintest, faintest trace of tenderness.

Was that really the Young Master?

Had he been secretly swapped out?

Strangely enough, Zhen Jiu’er, who had been in such a panic moments before, quickly settled down after Lu Beicheng’s words of comfort.

She even fell asleep.

Though it was rather bold of her, leaning against the Young Master’s arm like that.

There was clearly enough distance between them, and yet she still managed to sleep soundly against his arm.

It looked almost as if she were doing it on purpose, clinging to him…

The helicopter continued speeding forward.

In Lu Beicheng’s eyes, the girl beside him had already vanished from his attention.

He gazed out the window.

Blue skies, white clouds — seemingly calm and unhurried, and yet somehow charged with unseen turmoil beneath the surface.

In a few more hours, they would reach Ying’an City.

Those voices that had haunted his dreams, those blurred images, those secrets that felt so close yet just out of reach in his heart — would he finally be able to unravel them?

…

Of the several hours of the flight, Zhen Jiu’er was easily the most comfortable of all.

From her initial unease, she drifted into a deep, sweet sleep.

Along the way, she even had a wonderfully sweet dream — in it, she slept nestled in her Ninth Imperial Uncle’s embrace.

Having the most charming man in the world all to herself — that was surely the pinnacle of good fortune.

When she woke, the moment she opened her eyes, they had already arrived at their destination!