Give her a gift?

If this had happened before, Ziqing would certainly have been curious, since whenever Jun Beiyue gave something, it was never small.

But now, she had no mind left to speculate, not even enough to ask another question.

Her thoughts were consumed entirely by the lone island—the island she’d dreamed of, the island that in reality was utterly terrifying.

The reason Nanzhao wanted to wipe out the lone island was surely because they couldn’t suppress it any other way!

The lone island was both a place and a people. Nanzhao had sealed off every trace of information about the island’s location and killed every person from the island across the entire continent of Longyuan. The Nanzhao royal family was, in truth, a merciful, restrained house that had never been aggressive—for them to strike so ruthlessly, the lone island must be extraordinarily dangerous.

Even setting Yanzi aside, now that she’d been dealt with—not to mention Yelu Chenyi, not to mention however many others they didn’t even know about yet—

Just consider the island itself: there were surely far more people there who knew how to cultivate human gu than anyone realized!

And yet, even so, she still wanted to know where they were, still wanted to meet them. Although she wasn’t truly the original owner of this body, she had long since become one with it. As an orphan, she wanted so badly a home where she could feel safe, where she could belong.

The room fell silent, and it was only when Jun Beiyue’s hand gently touched her face that she snapped back to the present.

Jun Beiyue’s eyes were closed as he applied the medicine. The powder, mixed with water into a paste, felt cool against her skin—entirely unlike the burning sensation from when her face had first been disfigured.

He was utterly meticulous, his fingers gently tracing over every scar, every hollow, every raised ridge on her face, missing not a single inch.

Watching him—him, who had been furious as a lion just moments ago while interrogating Yanzi, now with his eyes closed, quiet as a statue of a handsome man—Ziqing couldn’t help but be affected by his stillness. The coolness on her skin mingled with a gentle warmth, and without meaning to, she slowly closed her eyes too, savoring the tenderness of his fingertips.

That tenderness stirred a strange sense of déjà vu in her, as though—though she couldn’t quite recall the exact scene—she remembered someone holding her at the very edge of life and death, gently tracing over every scar on her face just like this.

As a mercenary, she had faced death countless times.

But that time had been the first time, at the very brink of death, that someone had shielded her, had pulled her back. She always had the strange sense that whoever it was had pushed her back toward life with their own.

It seemed to have happened in the sea, seemed to have happened in his arms.

She couldn’t remember it clearly, and yet she would never forget it for the rest of her life.

In the silence, Ziqing slowly opened her eyes without meaning to, looking at the quiet man before her. She knew—it had to be him. In this whole world, only this man could give her this kind of warm, secure feeling.

Soon, Jun Beiyue finished applying the medicine. He slowly opened his eyes and found Ziqing watching him, smiling. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Ziqing looked away, raising her small hand to block his eyes. “Don’t look.”

Jun Beiyue’s smile only grew brighter. “Your whole face is caked in black mud—you really are ugly right now!”

“I’m going to go wash it off!” Ziqing said, clearly a little flustered—how could she not be? She was still a woman, after all. Even a man would be anxious to see if his disfigured face had healed.

She was about to leave, but Jun Beiyue caught her hand. “Let me wipe it off for you. What’s there to be afraid of? You’re about to become beautiful.”

“Not beautiful.” Ziqing muttered pitifully to herself—the side of her face still had that raised, totem-shaped scar, the very thing Yanzi had gone on and on about earlier.

“If I say beautiful, then you’re beautiful!” Jun Beiyue insisted stubbornly.

“Not beautiful.” Ziqing was not only stubborn to the bone but downright obstinate.

“Beautiful.” Jun Beiyue said it with absolute finality.

“Not beautiful.” Ziqing murmured to herself.

Suddenly, Jun Beiyue laughed. “It’s fine even if you’re not beautiful. This prince happens to like women who aren’t beautiful!”

It was clearly a joke, and Ziqing couldn’t help laughing too. “You have the strangest taste.”

“Heh, joking around already—that means you’re truly all right!” Jun Beiyue said with a smile, ruffling Ziqing’s bangs. This woman rarely bantered with him like this before.

Whether it was because she’d become a little more open, or because she’d simply grown a little closer to him, he couldn’t say.

Jun Beiyue gently wiped Ziqing’s face clean with a damp cloth, the black mud clearing away bit by bit, revealing pale, delicate skin beneath—skin that, if anything, looked even better than before.

Under Ziqing’s watchful gaze, he wiped carefully, cautiously, bit by bit—for the first time in his life feeling genuinely “nervous,” his hands trembling slightly. Ziqing clearly noticed, and couldn’t help wanting to laugh, pressing her lips tightly together to hold it in.

At last, only the scar on the side of her face remained unwiped. Even beneath the layer of black mud, it was obvious there was a scar there.

Yet Jun Beiyue didn’t stop. He continued wiping, bit by bit, and sure enough, the scar gradually came into view, more and more of it revealed, until finally it was unmistakably a totem shape, about the size of a fist, sitting right on Ziqing’s right cheek, as though a piece of extra flesh had been grafted on.

At that moment, the restrained smile at the corner of Ziqing’s lips had long since vanished. She stared, stunned, at Jun Beiyue, who was now studying her face with utmost seriousness.

She was about to speak, but to her surprise, Jun Beiyue leaned down and, without the slightest trace of revulsion, gently pressed a kiss to the scar.

He…

A scar even she herself found repulsive, one she dared not even look at closely—and he had just… he had actually kissed it!

Before Ziqing could even recover, Jun Beiyue cradled her neck and murmured softly against her ear, “Woman, since your immunity to all poisons is connected to this totem scar, there must be a way to undo it. We will find the lone island, find your people. We won’t give up until we’ve asked them ourselves!”

Having been with this woman for so long, how could he not understand her?

Whatever kind of home it turned out to be, he would help her find it first, and worry about everything else after.

If the reason a person immune to all poisons was immune lay in this totem scar on her face, then wouldn’t removing the scar, drawing the poison out of her face, mean she’d no longer be immune to all poisons? And if she was no longer immune, then no one could use her to cultivate human gu ever again?

He had no idea how likely this theory was, but even if the odds were only one in a hundred, he intended to pursue it. This had nothing to do with beauty or ugliness—it concerned her fate, her home.

He couldn’t give up!

Hearing Jun Beiyue’s words, Ziqing stared at him blankly, saying nothing for a long, long while, before suddenly throwing herself into his arms, wrapping them tightly around his waist, holding him close.

He understood her so well. She hadn’t even said anything yet, and he’d already seen right through her.

“Let’s not give up, all right? We’ll go to Nanzhao first, calm the Prince of Nanzhao down, then head straight to Yaoshun Island!” Jun Beiyue said earnestly.

Ziqing nodded firmly. “Yes. We won’t give up.”

Not giving up easily—even if things really were as dangerous as Yanzi had said, they wouldn’t give up. Rather than give up, better to save what could be saved.