“Who exactly is your Ninth Imperial Uncle?”

This time, Lu Beicheng didn’t avoid the question, going straight to the point: “Does it have something to do with Beimu City?”

Zhen Jiu’er’s eyes snapped open, and she looked up at him, a bit of hazy confusion still lingering in her gaze.

So, once again, beside him, she’d lost herself thinking of her Ninth Imperial Uncle.

Lu Beicheng had long known there was a man in her heart.

Only, he had never before felt this way—an indescribable, stifled feeling in his chest.

Even he himself didn’t know what exactly he was bothered by.

She was just a little girl!

Jiu’er shook her head, but in the end, still nodded.

“Is he coming to Ying’an City too?” Lu Beicheng narrowed his eyes, not quite understanding why, but there was a small beast clamoring inside his heart.

If her Ninth Imperial Uncle dared to come, he would… well, he’d kill him.

If he couldn’t kill him, he’d cripple him.

That seemed a bit cruel.

His heart was full of stirring, violent impulses, yet Lu Beicheng’s devastatingly handsome face showed no particular expression at all.

As if he were still listening attentively to her.

This time, Jiu’er shook her head again: “He… won’t come.”

She didn’t even know whether her Ninth Imperial Uncle had crossed over into this era along with her.

If her Ninth Imperial Uncle had remained in ancient times, if he had already… when he fell from the cliff—even if he had survived, as long as he hadn’t come here with her, then by now her Ninth Imperial Uncle, too, would be long gone, just like Mu Mu.

Her heart ached with bitterness once more.

Jiu’er stepped away from the wheelchair and stood up, turning her head to look at Lu Beicheng: “I’m hungry. I’ll go back and eat first.”

She didn’t want to talk to him about her Ninth Imperial Uncle. In truth, Lu Beicheng had never been one to pry into others’ affairs.

What did other people’s business have to do with him?

He didn’t know what he was so overbearingly wanting to vent.

Lu Beicheng nodded, and Jiu’er turned and walked away.

He remained where he was, watching her retreating figure.

Until, within his line of sight, that figure was there no more.

Yan Qiu, too, waited until Jiu’er was far off before slowly walking over.

“Young Master Jiu, do you really like this girl? It seems a bit different from your usual taste.”

“What taste do I even have?” Lu Beicheng lowered his head, looking at his own palm.

He seemed to be turning some small object over between his fingers.

Yan Qiu walked closer, thought about it, and figured there really wasn’t anything wrong with what Young Master Jiu had said.

What taste did he have?

He’d never even had a girlfriend, ever.

Yan Qiu didn’t even know—Young Master Jiu had lived over twenty years, nearly thirty now, and in all that time, had he ever liked any woman at all?

Zhen Jiu’er… seemed to be the exception.

Young Master Jiu’s attitude toward her really was different.

But since Young Master Jiu didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to pry further either.

“That dream…” Yan Qiu thought it over, then continued to ask. “Are you still having it?”

That dream…

Lu Beicheng’s eyes flickered slightly, still looking down at the small chain in his palm.

Recently, he hadn’t had that dream again.

“It’s stopped bothering you?” Yan Qiu understood the look in his eyes. After years of the same dream, had it finally vanished?

“Since when did it start happening?”

Lu Beicheng’s brow furrowed even tighter.

That dream truly had haunted him for several years.

These past few years, almost every night when he went to sleep, he’d been haunted by the same dream.

In the dream, there was a girl, calling out to him again and again.

But he never knew what she was calling him.

Every time he tried to get closer to hear clearly, the dream would break off, and he’d wake up.

For the rest of that night, he wouldn’t dream again.

Since when had he stopped having this dream?

It seemed… to be from the day he met Zhen Jiu’er?