When Feng Jiu’er emerged from behind the dressing screen, dragging her long, dripping-wet hair behind her, a voice of respectful deference reached her from outside: “Your Highness.”

She furrowed her brows and continued drying her hair.

As for the fake scar Yanu had made for her — she had no idea what materials had been used, but it hadn’t budged even after washing her face. It hadn’t come off at all.

The only reason she had noticed it was because she had studied medicines and remedies. There was a medicinal substance on the scar, and so she had naturally been able to sense it.

Watching the composed, graceful figure that stepped through the door, Feng Jiu’er gave him a bright, wide grin: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’ve washed up properly — squeaky clean. Do you want me now?”

She had not forgotten: the last time his medicinal effects had taken hold and she had accidentally drawn too close, he had recoiled instinctively.

It was only afterward, unable to resist the force of the medicine any longer, that he had lost himself.

Word had it that the most beautiful man in the world, the Ninth Prince, had always maintained a respectful distance from women. Perhaps she could try to exploit that.

Dragging her long wet hair behind her, Feng Jiu’er darted over with a cheerful grin, fully intending to throw herself into his arms.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’m ready for you right now — come on, hurry…”

She puckered her lips and moved to press them against his.

Sure enough, Zhan Qingcheng’s eyes darkened, and by pure reflex he pushed her away.

Feng Jiu’er felt a flicker of quiet delight in her heart, but kept her expression composed, looking at him with an aggrieved pout.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, didn’t you say you wanted me? Now that I’ve presented myself, why are you still pushing me away?”

The coquettish quality of her own voice made her own skin crawl — how could he not find it revolting?

Yet Zhan Qingcheng merely regarded her with a cool, unhurried look, then suddenly called out, “Someone come!”

Two servants immediately pushed open the door and entered.

Feng Jiu’er’s eyes lit up. Was he about to have her thrown out?

That was perfectly fine. She had no intention of returning to Feng Manor tonight anyway. If she ended up being driven out of the Ninth Prince’s residence, she would simply go sleep outside the back gate.

She would wait until dawn and head back then.

Her own reputation was already in tatters — but the Ninth Prince was an entirely different matter. His reputation was sacred, absolutely inviolable.

So even if word got out that an ugly girl had spent a night at the Ninth Prince’s residence, no one would dare assume anything improper had transpired between them.

At most, people would think she had been extraordinarily lucky — that the Prince had been kind enough to take her in.

Come on then, hurry up and throw her out! Get on with it!

Yet just as Feng Jiu’er was suppressing her joy while waiting to be expelled, she heard Zhan Qingcheng’s voice — that deep, magnetic voice that could make a woman’s ears melt — ring out with cool indifference: “Bring fresh bathwater.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The servants acknowledged the command and immediately carried the bathtub out.

Feng Jiu’er was dumbstruck. Fresh bathwater? Did this mean… he was not throwing her out after all?

Zhan Qingcheng’s cool gaze fell upon her face. “In a hurry?”

He walked toward the dressing screen and, with a casual motion, removed his outer robe and tossed it over the top.

“Never mind. Once this Prince has bathed, he shall have you properly.”

Feng Jiu’er stood in a daze for quite some time before she finally realized she had just been spoken to with brazen impropriety.

And yet — “But I’m an ugly woman! Look at my face!”

“Beauty and ugliness are nothing more than a shell. If this Prince desired a beauty, do you think he would be short of options?”

Without even turning his head, Zhan Qingcheng shed another layer of clothing and cast it over the dressing screen.

His tall, well-built, and lean figure was now half-exposed! The inverted triangle of his form was nothing short of perfect!

Feng Jiu’er very nearly had a nosebleed. She hastily averted her face, refusing to look at that utterly bewitching form.

She bit her lip, her expression one of pure indignation. “You… you did that on purpose!”