Zhen Jiu’er opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Clearly, this question from Lu Beicheng had caught her completely off guard, and for a moment, she had no idea how to answer.

“Is it that difficult to answer?” A gentleness she couldn’t quite read flickered in the depths of Lu Beicheng’s eyes.

Not only did he not press her further, he even curved his lips into a rare, faint smile: “If it’s difficult, you don’t have to answer. I don’t mean to force you.”

Zhen Jiu’er’s heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t because of his consideration—it was because… his smile was truly, genuinely handsome.

The same feeling as her Ninth Imperial Uncle, the same handsomeness.

She’d mistaken him for her Ninth Imperial Uncle again.

Jiu’er gave her head a light shake, then quickly lowered it, once again avoiding his gaze as she continued massaging his thigh.

When neither of them spoke, the atmosphere in the cave gradually began to feel strange.

She didn’t know why, but the sound of both their heartbeats seemed to grow clearer and clearer on this particular night.

It even felt as though both their heartbeats were quickening.

Jiu’er’s feelings grew somewhat complicated; she felt they couldn’t keep going on like this.

She quickly found a new topic: “Why are they trying to kill you? It seems like they’re going straight for your life.”

The tranquilizer guns weren’t lethal, but the assassins had struck with unusual ferocity—clearly people who’d once lived as outlaws.

To be able to hire people like that, the grudge against Lu Beicheng couldn’t be small.

Jiangzhou’s gun control was extremely strict, so people couldn’t get their hands on real firearms—which was why these homemade tranquilizer guns had become such formidable weapons.

Ever since they’d arrived in that forest, the assassins had been following them the whole way, never once giving up.

In fact, from what Jiu’er had observed, it wasn’t even just one group of assassins.

Perhaps the entire imperial city was crawling with people who wanted him dead.

“Business rivals? Trying to eliminate you completely? Or an internal feud within some powerful family?”

But Jiu’er’s slender fingers, still massaging him, suddenly stopped. She looked up and met his deep gaze, opening her mouth in slight surprise.

“Is it really… a feud within the family?”

The moment she’d mentioned an internal feud within a powerful family, she’d clearly felt the muscles of his thigh tense instantly beneath her fingertips.

She’d actually guessed correctly.

“Is that so strange?” Lu Beicheng’s mood hadn’t been good to begin with, but seeing her stunned little expression, he actually relaxed instead.

Though he appeared to have relaxed, in truth, Jiu’er knew his heart was filled with sorrow.

“What’s strange isn’t the various feuds within powerful families—it’s that… Ninth Master, you seem to actually care about the person trying to harm you.”

Hearing this, Lu Beicheng’s gaze darkened instantly: “What would a little girl understand?”

“Guessed it right, and now you’re embarrassed into anger?” Zhen Jiu’er shot him a glare. “Even your temper is so similar…”

Forget it—what was she even thinking about?

Constantly mistaking him for her Ninth Imperial Uncle, at every turn—she didn’t even know what she was trying to do anymore.

Could it be that, deep down, she’d already accepted that the Ninth Imperial Uncle was gone, and so she was looking for a substitute?

Since when had she become so shallow?

No—the Ninth Imperial Uncle couldn’t possibly be gone.

Since she had come to this place, the Ninth Imperial Uncle must have come here too.

She absolutely could not give up!

As for Lu Beicheng, this time he didn’t let the slip in her words go.

He frowned and asked, “Like who?”

“No one, I was just talking nonsense…”

“Like your Ninth Imperial Uncle?”

Zhen Jiu’er’s fingers froze abruptly, coming to a complete stop.

She wanted to look up at him, but couldn’t summon even the slightest bit of courage to do so.