Lu Beicheng said nothing, only quietly watching Zhen Jiu’er.

Jiu’er met his gaze, her expression completely sincere. “My Ninth Imperial Uncle was my husband in my past life… in other words, my husband.”

“If you believe it, then you are the reincarnation of my Ninth Imperial Uncle. If you don’t believe it…”

“I believe it.” There was nothing that could move him more than this answer.

Although Lu Beicheng had always been an atheist.

Whatever nonsense about past lives and this life—coming from anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

But Jiu’er was different.

Whatever Jiu’er said, he believed.

Love strikes without reason, and once it takes root, it runs deep.

This girl—he didn’t know what spell she’d cast on him. In just half a month together, she had already carved herself deeply into his heart.

He loosened the large hand gripping her wrist.

Jiu’er immediately took hold of his fingers and, one by one at each fingertip, drove the silver needles in hard.

Very deep.

Very painful.

But Lu Beicheng didn’t so much as frown—he simply watched her quietly.

Ji Mingyu soon returned. Jiu’er picked up the syringe, swapped in a new needle, and administered the antiserum.

Then she began treating the wound.

She drew out the poisoned blood and handed it to Ji Mingyu, telling him to fetch Qiao Qiao to analyze the toxin with whatever limited equipment they had…

She was busy, and while she worked her face was completely focused.

Lu Beicheng’s vision gradually began to blur.

Everything in the world seemed to grow less and less clear, but Jiu’er’s face grew clearer and clearer.

He wasn’t sure if it was clearer to his eyes, or clearer in his heart.

In any case, in his eyes, Jiu’er was so clear he could almost make out the fine, delicate down on her young face.

She said he had been her husband in her past life…

Finally, in a state of complete contentment, Lu Beicheng closed his eyes…

…

“How is Young Uncle?” Lu Feifan came rushing back from wherever he’d been, arriving covered head to toe in the dust of travel.

“Miss Jiu’er and Miss Qiao are inside. Third Young Master, you can’t go in right now.”

Ji Mingyu blocked the entrance to the tent, refusing to budge an inch.

“I want to go see Young Uncle…”

“Miss Jiu’er said Ninth Master is already out of danger and should be fine for now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Hearing this, Lu Feifan let out a breath of relief.

But immediately, another worry surfaced: “Where’s Xia Zi?”

Ji Mingyu’s brow furrowed. “Third Young Master, you seem to care a bit too much about this woman.”

“Where exactly is she right now? What have you all done to her?” Lu Feifan knew that this matter couldn’t be hidden from his Young Uncle.

The fact that he himself had let Xia Zi go, taking her from Jiu’er back then—Young Uncle and Old Ji surely already knew about that too.

But he couldn’t explain why he’d done it.

“Old Ji, I have no ill will toward Young Uncle, but Xia Zi…”

“She tried to assassinate Ninth Master. We’ve already reported it to the police. Once they arrive, they’ll take her away.”

They hadn’t taken justice into their own hands—in this day and age, there was no such thing as private punishment anyway.

Xia Zi had only gotten hurt because Ji Mingyu had to save Ninth Master and Miss Jiu’er, stopping Xia Zi from continuing her attack.

As for what fate awaited Xia Zi in the future, that wasn’t something they could control.

But the consequences she deserved would come, without question.

Xia Zi wouldn’t escape the reach of the law.

“Third Young Master, since this matter has nothing to do with you, I’d advise you not to wade into these troubled waters.”

Ji Mingyu wasn’t in a good mood right now. With Ninth Master injured, he was just as anxious as Zhen Jiu’er.

Facing Lu Feifan, who might have some special connection to Xia Zi, his attitude naturally wasn’t about to soften.

“If you insist on going your own stubborn way, don’t expect Ninth Master to care about whatever bond exists between the two of you anymore!”