He collapsed, spent, utterly exhausted. This time, after drawing the blood, he did not channel his internal energy at all.

He simply pulled her down with him onto the bed, produced a small vial of medicine from somewhere, dabbed it carefully over the wound on her shoulder — and then wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

Even while applying the medicine, his eyes had remained closed the entire time. To be worn this low…

Feng Jiu’er’s feelings were tangled and complicated, and many questions lay unasked within her — yet watching him look this utterly spent, she did not know whether she should speak them aloud.

“Say what you wish to say.” Ninth Imperial Uncle’s face was tucked into her embrace — a thoroughly brazen posture — yet he seemed to be particularly fond of her scent.

Feng Jiu’er had tried to push him away, but he held her firmly. And given that his complexion remained so pale, she found herself oddly reluctant to use force.

She closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore the warmth of his face pressed against her, and reminded herself that this was not the first time.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle — did you encounter an assassin today? Were they very skilled?”

The man nestled against her went faintly still. His long lashes lifted, and what filled his view was her snow-white skin, the faint, delicate fragrance of her close enough to breathe.

Lovely to smell. Lovely to look at.

He closed his eyes again and settled more comfortably against her.

Feng Jiu’er clenched her lower lip hard, her composure crumbling inwardly.

He was fully and properly dressed — yet she… could he not at least hand her something to cover herself with first?

Evidently, the man had no such inclination. Her warmth served as something like an antidote, stilling the Gu Poison within him in that peculiar way of hers.

“Not particularly skilled.” His voice remained rough, and every word he spoke sent warm breath drifting against her skin.

An indescribable feeling — like an infant nestled trustingly in her arms. So very… clingy.

“The people we encountered in the rear mountain — they were not part of any assessment. They were real assassins, weren’t they?”

Zhan Qingcheng offered no denial. That silence alone was answer enough.

“Why did you not believe the account?” The explanation he had had Yu Jingfeng pass along to Fang Zheng — was it not convincing enough?

“Because when those men in black were fighting Mu Mu, the killing intent in their eyes was genuine. The poison they had applied to their blades was lethal. If I had not been there, Mu Mu might not have survived today.”

Would an assessment really risk a student’s life like that? It was simply not possible.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle — that irresistible feast that you had arranged for me, the one I couldn’t possibly decline — that was your doing as well, wasn’t it?”

What she could not understand was this: he had been the one to refuse her entry to Dragon Martial Academy — so why, when she had gone to the Imperial Guards Academy instead, had he then arranged things to keep her here?

This man was impossible to predict. She could never tell what he was thinking.

“So — your resolve to withdraw on your own was made precisely because you had already calculated that this Prince would find a way to keep you here?”

“But of course. Otherwise, that afternoon meal worth a thousand taels of silver — would it not have been entirely wasted?”

Though in truth, at the time, she had been making a gamble — betting that Ninth Imperial Uncle would never let her simply slip away.

And as expected, she had bet correctly. The only thing she had not anticipated was that Ninth Imperial Uncle would use the men in black as a pretext to justify it.

From within her arms, the man said, his tone mild, “Falling into your stomach — that is not a waste.”

Feng Jiu’er felt a warmth bloom in her chest. She could not help herself — she gently cupped his head in her arms.

She had always known it: that mouth of Ninth Imperial Uncle’s was utterly insufferable. He so rarely spoke, yet whenever he did, the words had a way of drowning a person in sweetness before they ever saw it coming.

Ninth Imperial Uncle, if you keep this up, she truly — truly would not be able to stop herself from throwing herself at him.

He was dashing, commanding, and just a little bit boyish. She was nothing but an inexperienced young girl who had never once been in love. She simply cannot hold out against his teasing.