When Ziqing’s smile faded and she turned back around, everything behind her remained just as before—the man on the bed lying so still, so quiet, that he didn’t look at all like Prince Yao, Jun Beiyue.

He looked more like some silent, taciturn man who had simply fallen asleep on this bed by accident.

Who was Jun Beiyue? He was the world-renowned Prince Yao of Great Zhou, the guardian deity of Great Zhou, the busiest man on the entire continent of Longyuan!

How could he possibly have the time to lie here sleeping? His expression was always stern, sharp—no one had ever seen him look this peaceful, this easy to approach.

Ziqing sat down at the edge of the bed. These past days, since the Gu couple hadn’t come looking for her, she hadn’t bothered to go find them either, devoting herself entirely to Jun Beiyue.

She understood better than anyone that here on Liuxian Isle, within the Gu clan, no matter how capable she was, she could never outweigh Jun Beiyue’s status as young master.

Unless she was willing to give up the Bai clan’s divine wood Fusang, unless she meant to leave, she needed to get Jun Beiyue to wake up as soon as possible!

It hadn’t actually been many days, yet it felt as though she’d grown used to it already—sitting hugging her knees at the foot of the bed, by his feet, leaning against the bed frame, watching over him, looking at him. Just like this, day after day, and she hadn’t even realized she hadn’t really said anything more to Jun Beiyue since that first time.

Just that one sentence back then: “But… Ziqing isn’t good enough.”

Before, the words between them had never been many either—she rarely initiated conversation with him, and he, if not issuing a warning, was questioning her; they had never really had a proper conversation.

Thinking of this, Ziqing couldn’t help propping her chin on her hands, curious despite herself—this cold, stern fellow, aside from discussing business, had he ever chatted casually with anyone at all?

He seemed to have no friends, no brothers—only devoted, loyal subordinates.

Could he possibly chat with Yingzi, or the physician?

As Ziqing pondered this, she unconsciously tilted her head, looking thoughtful, seriously mulling over such a pointless question.

A scene surfaced in her mind of this man, his handsome face cold as ever, casually chatting with the physician and Yingzi—somehow, no matter how she pictured it, it just didn’t fit!

He probably wasn’t the type to chat with people at all.

“Jun Beiyue, you’re just like me.” Suddenly, Ziqing spoke—though she wasn’t sure herself whether she was talking to herself or to him.

She said it earnestly. It was true—in this one respect, Jun Beiyue was just like her: taciturn, reticent, poor at conversation.

As she spoke, she unconsciously leaned closer, as though about to say more, when suddenly, in the distance, the sound of the night watchman’s clapper rang out—it was already deep into the night.

Only then did Ziqing realize how tired she was, letting out an involuntary yawn before sitting back, leaning against the bed frame, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

Her own soldiers guarded the door outside, so she could rest easy—but every night, she only ever dozed lightly, waking now and then to check on him.

In the past, whenever sleepiness struck, she’d fall asleep without even realizing it, sleeping soundly for two hours before waking, and then staying awake until dawn.

But tonight, half an hour had already passed, and though Ziqing kept her eyes closed to rest, no matter what, she simply couldn’t fall asleep.

Whatever the case, she needed her rest—she wasn’t the type to push herself recklessly without regard for her health; she was the type who rested well precisely so she could fight harder later.

Tonight, it seemed, she was doomed to insomnia.

Sitting there foolishly, gazing at Jun Beiyue’s peaceful sleeping face, she didn’t even notice that her fine brows would knit together every time she looked at him, nor did she seem aware of what exactly she was mulling over. Before long, she silently crawled over beside Jun Beiyue, paused, her face conflicted, wrestled with herself for a good while, and then actually crawled over his body to lie down beside him.

That conflicted little face was clearly turning something over in her mind, yet it remained impossible to guess what—just like her clear, bright eyes, seemingly limpid and untainted, yet utterly unreadable to anyone.

She glanced at Jun Beiyue once, pressed her lips together, and then closed her eyes.

The room was silent, the candlelight dim. She seemed to have fallen asleep—was that all there was to it?

But her hand was clearly, silently creeping up onto Jun Beiyue, slowly wrapping around him. Before long, her long, slender legs also slowly slid over, entwining with his…

From the moment her hand touched this man, she buried her head against his arm and never lifted it again.

But she had no idea that the very moment her hand wrapped around him, this man could no longer help himself—almost as a reflex, his eyes snapped open!

Those long-unseen eyes were still as deep and unfathomable as the sea, though they no longer held their usual severity, their usual sharpness. His dark eyes kept darting about restlessly—suspicion, astonishment, and, hardest of all to conceal, a certain unmistakable delight.

It had been so long—surely it was time to wake up.

In truth, his consciousness had been awake the whole time. Ever since his internal energy had begun to recover, though he’d been too weak even to open his eyes or move his mouth, he had been fully aware of everything happening around him.

The medicine he’d taken today was without doubt the very remedy restoring his strength. Before, he’d only been able to open his eyes and move his lips slightly—but now, everything had come back to him!

Not only that—he could sense two strands of internal energy stirring restlessly in his dantian as his strength returned. His original internal power had been completely lost; rather than saying his internal energy had recovered, it would be more accurate to say that the patriarch and Madam Gu had given him internal energy. He had to admit, compared to what he’d had before, this was, if anything, even greater.

Glancing sideways at the woman beside him and seeing that she appeared to be asleep, a glint of amusement flickered in his eyes. He was just about to reach for the blanket, when suddenly, a soft murmur, half like a confession, half like talking to herself, drifted low from beside his arm!

His hand froze mid-motion, his eyes snapping shut at once. He listened as she spoke softly, finally opening her mouth.

“Sorry about this… I’m… having some trouble sleeping, and there’s no other pillow here, so I’m just going to borrow you for a hug… um, once I fall asleep, I’ll definitely let go!”

Whenever sleepiness came over her, she had to sprawl out on her back to sleep comfortably. But if she couldn’t sleep, she needed something to hold onto—a stuffed toy, a pillow, or even something to grip tightly.

And sure enough, no sooner had she finished speaking than, without turning her head, the arms and legs wrapped around him tightened all at once. In an instant, his eyes flew open—that grip… was certainly tight enough that he could clearly feel her figure, every curve of it, pressed against him.

His handsome brow furrowed slightly. After waiting a good while and sensing no further movement from her, he carefully began trying to extricate himself from her grip. But just then, she spoke again.

“Jun Beiyue, actually… never mind… it’s nothing important!”

She trailed off, rubbing her small face against his arm, and said nothing more.

What had she meant to say?

His eyes shifted, glancing down at the small, birdlike figure nestled against him, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. He decided to feign that nothing had happened and closed his eyes again.

“Actually… there is something.”

She spoke again, murmuring so softly that if the room hadn’t been so quiet, he wouldn’t have been able to make out the words at all.

He lay perfectly still, his breathing steady and even, his handsome face utterly composed—so unchanged that one might well doubt one’s own eyes, wondering if one had simply been mistaken. This man hadn’t woken up at all—he was still fast asleep!

“Jun Beiyue…” Finally, she called his name. “Jun Beiyue, actually, I…”