“Don’t shiver!” The man’s voice carried a trace of hoarseness, as if his throat were a little parched.

Feng Jiu’er clutched tightly at the bedding beneath her, biting her lip, saying nothing.

The medicine was good—applied to her skin, it felt wonderfully cool.

It was so refreshing it made one feel drowsy.

But the moment she remembered the state she was currently in, she found it impossible to drift off comfortably.

“Alright, I… the wounds on my legs aren’t that many, but my lower back…”

“The phoenix on your lower back is quite beautiful.” Zhan Qingcheng’s long fingers settled on her lower back.

A phoenix? Feng Jiu’er tried to turn her head, but with his large hand pressing on her waist, she couldn’t get up at all.

“What phoenix?” How was it that she had no idea there was a phoenix on her lower back?

“It’s gone now.” Zhan Qingcheng frowned. He had clearly seen the faint outline of a phoenix just a moment ago—why had it suddenly vanished?

Could it be that it only appeared under certain specific conditions?

He leaned in closer, bringing his face nearer to her lower back.

But this posture nearly frightened the soul right out of Feng Jiu’er.

“No, no, you can’t, Ninth Imperial Uncle, you… get away!”

“How dare you!”

“No means no! Don’t look, get away, you—” If he kept this up, she was going to cry right in front of him!

How could he, after removing her skirt, bring his face… his face so close to her body? It was simply too much!

Perhaps even Zhan Qingcheng finally realized that his actions seemed somewhat inappropriate—leaning in so close to a young lady’s body…

He had originally only wanted to look at the phoenix hidden beneath her skin, but now that the phoenix was no longer visible, he abruptly came back to his senses and realized he was sprawled right over her lower back.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, get away.” Feng Jiu’er buried her small face into the soft pillow’s cloth, on the verge of tears. “If you keep bullying me like this, I really won’t speak to you anymore.”

“Besides this threat, what other tricks do you have?” Zhan Qingcheng frowned, finally lifting himself off of her, his long fingers brushing across her lower back.

He surely hadn’t been mistaken just now—a phoenix-shaped birthmark hidden beneath the skin was truly bizarre.

Why had it surfaced just a moment ago?

Reining in his thoughts, Zhan Qingcheng picked up the medicine bottle and continued applying it to her.

Feng Jiu’er couldn’t help whimpering again—the medicine really did feel wonderful. The moment it touched her wound, the burning sting instantly turned into a soothing coolness.

It felt so good that she wanted to fall asleep again.

“This medicine has a calming effect. Sleep if you want to,” the man behind her said indifferently.

“Hmph.” She wasn’t going to talk to him! He was a bad person!

“What were you saying just now? Zeng Lanyue?” She’d said she wouldn’t talk to him, but this girl simply couldn’t stay quiet for long.

The moment a topic interested her, she immediately started chattering away.

She had her stratagems, but he too had begun learning his own countermeasures—not talking to him? That simply wasn’t going to happen.

“Zeng Lanyue…” Sure enough, the moment this name came up, Feng Jiu’er immediately forgot all about her earlier vow of “not talking to him.”

“So, Ninth Imperial Uncle, how do you plan to deal with her?”

“For undermining military discipline, fifty strokes of the rod across the board, expulsion from the Dragon Martial Academy, and a permanent ban from ever serving in the military again.”

“Why call it undermining military discipline? Just because she had a romantic relationship with a man?”

Although being a “mistress” was wrong, in this particular era, the term “mistress” didn’t even exist.

In other words, simply because of a romantic relationship with a man, she was being expelled.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’m a little worried.” She bit her lip. Zhan Qingcheng raised an eyebrow, scooping up another bit of greenish ointment and gently applying it to her wound. “Worried about what?”