The sound of quiet wind entered her ears, as if fine rain was dripping on branches and leaves. Fucang moved slightly, opened his eyes in confusion, and what met his gaze was the familiar cyan gauze embroidered with cloud patterns—Little Nine had brought him back to the Azure Emperor’s Palace?

He braced himself against the bedding to sit up. The moment he moved, the wound in his abdomen sent a sharp pain through him. Frowning, he lifted the quilt. His loose crow-blue robe had already slipped down to his waist. He was astonished to discover that the turbid energy in the large and small wounds all over his body had already faded countless times. Several small wounds had even been completely purged of turbid energy.

Could it be that he had slept for over ten days again?

Fucang instinctively looked toward the side of the bed. The azure blue Chun Jun lay right beside his pillow. His brows couldn’t help but furrow. Not good—he had actually imprisoned the dragon princess inside Chun Jun for so long.

He recited the incantation to release her from inside. Who knew that after reciting the incantation twice, Chun Jun showed no reaction at all. His brows furrowed even deeper. His palm tested slightly on Chun Jun—she wasn’t inside?

Somewhat chaotic memories from when he had been unconscious returned to his mind. He seemed to have woken once midway through his sleep. Afraid she would feel stifled inside the sword, he had already released her. Afterward, he had fallen into a drowsy sleep again, sleeping all the way until now.

Had she run away again?

Fucang turned over and got out of bed with a dark expression. Unexpectedly, his foot stepped on a pair of soft boots. Looking down, he saw these soft boots were slender and fiery red, also inlaid with black gemstones as decoration—very beautiful.

They were the dragon princess’s shoes. She was still here.

Fucang drew his robe together and quickly walked toward the outside of the room. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her crimson battle general’s outfit thrown on the floor. The wooden chest in the corner had also been opened, with his clothes drooping messily over the edge of the chest. He froze for another moment. Coming out to the outer room, sure enough, it had also been turned upside down. White papers had been blown everywhere by the wind. The door stood open, with autumn rain pattering outside. Rainwater was blown inside by the wind, and many white papers were already soaked through.

On the damp nanmu wood corridor sat a slender figure, long hair draped over her back, wearing his old cloud-patterned robe. She seemed lost in thought about something, her toes drawing circle after circle on the ground. Then, probably feeling it was dirty, she tapped her feet, letting the rainwater wash away the mud and sand on them.

Fucang suddenly felt that this was the first time in his life that his solitary and profound courtyard felt especially lively, looking especially pleasing to the eye.

He lightened his footsteps and slowly walked over. As if hearing a sound, the dragon princess immediately turned her head. Seeing him, she exclaimed “Aiya!” and fluttered over like a butterfly among flowers, landing at his side. Without speaking, she just opened her eyes wide and looked him up and down.

The blood that had been all over her face and body earlier was gone. This little thief must have not only rummaged through his things but also found the bathing pool and used it without the slightest courtesy.

Fucang gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him properly, carefully examining her complexion. Her previously pale face from within the Sea of Abandoned Hatred was now much more normal. It seemed she should be fine. He felt relieved. His fingertips then plucked at the loose cloud-patterned robe on her body: “…Stole my clothes to wear?”

Xuan Yi turned her head and pointed toward the cloud boundary. The golden dragon transformed from Chun Jun’s sword sheath was ferociously coiled there. The moment she got close, it would try to swallow her. This brutal technique was clearly something only Fucang could think up.

“You slept for two days.” She kept a straight face, very displeased. “And I couldn’t get out.”

Once the precious and noble princess stabilized, she began to be particular about everything. How could she endure blood dried all over her body? After bathing, she naturally needed to change clothes. She had searched the entire room without finding anything suitable and could only take out one of his old robes that was relatively small to temporarily put on, still very dissatisfied with it.

Fucang was inwardly surprised. The turbid energy in his wounds had dispersed so quickly? Given the crazy turbid energy of the Sea of Abandoned Hatred, it should have taken at least several months to be purged. He had only slept two days and the turbid energy had already faded to this extent?

He couldn’t figure it out, so he simply stopped thinking about it for now. Seeing Xuan Yi about to rub the mud and sand from her feet onto the cushion, he frowned and crouched down, catching her foot domineeringly and indulgently. Who taught her she could rub her feet on the cushion?

Using his sleeve to wipe her feet clean, Fucang looked at the messy room, not knowing whether to laugh or sigh: “Little thief, you’ve turned my room so chaotic.”

She continued to point righteously toward the golden dragon at the cloud boundary.

Fucang stood up without a word and pulled her into the room. He still had a pile of matters to scold and admonish her about. How could he let her run away so easily?

With a flick of his fingertips, the white papers scattered on the floor flew back to the writing desk one after another, pressed down again by the bronze paperweight. The door closed, blocking out the autumn wind and autumn rain outside. Fucang hooked over a cushion and said indifferently, “Sit down. I have questions to ask.”

There was always this feeling like he was about to lose his temper thoroughly. Xuan Yi sat hesitantly on the cushion, watching him go to the inner room to fetch tea. She secretly blew the moon window open in one breath—this way, when he lost his temper, she could run away.

Fucang brought out the tea table, his expression calm. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He elegantly pushed the teacup in front of her. That Huaxu Clan member who emphasized etiquette and propriety had returned: “There’s no fresh tea. Please forgive me.”

After speaking, his fingertips hooked again, closing the moon window she had blown open.

Xuan Yi frowned and took a sip of tea—still bland and tasteless. What terrible tea did his household drink? After waiting for a long time without hearing him speak, she cleared her throat: “How are your injuries?”

Fucang traced the light blue pattern on the rim of the cup with his fingernail, his voice very light: “I won’t die.”

Xuan Yi only felt restless and uneasy. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Autumn rain fell on the towering trees in the courtyard, mingling with the sound of wind, instead creating a strange kind of quiet. It was precisely this quiet that made her increasingly panicked.

She could only hold up the bland and tasteless tea and take another sip.

Fucang stared at her for a long time. She wore his old cloud-patterned robe, which still appeared very oversized, as if she were about to fly away. Some soft emotions had just overflowed onto his chest before quickly falling back down again. Her stubborn willfulness, her headstrong actions, her selfishness in decisively leaving pain to others—truly, utterly detestable.

A hint of gloom gathered in his eyes. After a long while, he finally said in a low voice, “This time, if I hadn’t found you, you were planning to go to the Sea of Abandoned Hatred alone to die?”

The dragon princess hung her head, her eyelashes fluttering chaotically, just refusing to raise her eyes to look at him. After a long time, she propped up her chin and evaded the topic, speaking softly and weakly: “I’m hungry.”

Fucang completely ignored her attempt to change the subject, looking at her coldly: “Without even saying a word?”

Her eyelashes finally lifted, gazing at him with tearful eyes and a delicate manner: “Senior Brother Fucang, I’m really hungry.”

Can we not talk about these things? Anyway, all the troubles are resolved. They’re both fine. She’s quite spirited, and he looks even more spirited. You’ve already confined me for two days—don’t be angry, alright?

Fucang narrowed his eyes, his gaze gloomy. Every time it was like this—willfully coming, willfully leaving, willfully giving him so much, then finally willfully cutting it all off with one stroke. If she liked him, why could she be so capricious? Going alone to die, while making him watch quietly from the side? Should he also cheer for her?

She always wanted to abandon him.

“…What did you do when I told you to leave before?” He asked word by word.

Xuan Yi drew in a breath, put down her teacup, and tried to stand up: “I should really go back…”

Go back? One hand gripped her arm. Fucang’s voice was very low: “Sit down. I’m asking you a question.”

Xuan Yi struggled forcefully. Not knowing where her hand struck, he trembled slightly. A thin line of blood trickled down from a wound on his neck that hadn’t yet healed.

She was startled and immediately stopped moving.