“The message was brought back by Xue Gu.” Mu Mu said quietly.

“Xue Gu?” Feng Jiu’er looked at Mu Mu, and another face surfaced in her mind.

She remembered — that day, among the people in their group, there had been someone called Xue Gu.

“Can her word be trusted?” Composing herself, Feng Jiu’er raised an eyebrow and asked.

“Xue Gu has always been genuinely devoted to you. I do not believe she was lying.”

The moment Mu Mu’s words fell, his gaze locked onto Zhan Qingcheng.

Watching the brief, fleeting shift in his eyes, Mu Mu could not quite read him.

Could it be that Xue Gu was not entirely trustworthy?

And yet, even if Xue Gu was not wholly reliable, he had already made up his mind about the matter of the manual, had he not?

With only a slight furrow of his brows, Mu Mu decided not to press further here.

“Since Xue Gu would not deceive us, the matter of the manual may not necessarily be false — unless she herself was deceived by someone.”

Feng Jiu’er pursed her lips. She looked at Mu Mu and Jian Yi in turn, then shifted to one side and settled onto the chaise longue. She glanced once more at the man on the bed and let out a soft sigh.

“Whatever the case, I must thank everyone. Were it not for my affairs, none of you would need to have waded into all this trouble.”

Him, most of all — she was truly, deeply grateful.

Looking at Zhan Qingcheng now, Feng Jiu’er felt not only a stirring of her heart, but something far more tender — an ache.

There was much she had forgotten, yet she always felt as though she owed him — far too much, in fact.

“As for my situation, I still cannot piece together what it all means for now. My only hope at this moment is that everyone recovers fully from their injuries first, and then we can address things once you are healed.”

The way Feng Jiu’er expressed herself eased the tension in the bedchamber considerably.

Even if the little girl had truly forgotten, she had at the very least chosen to trust them. And that, for now, was the one thing that brought any comfort.

“Perhaps, if we find the missing half of the map, we will be able to tell whether it is real or not.” Jian Yi steadied his expression and said.

Comfort was comfort, but at this point, no one had any thought of giving up.

“Mm.” Mu Mu withdrew his gaze from the little girl.

“The missing half of the map?” Feng Jiu’er’s brow creased. She reached up and pressed a hand to her temple.

Her head throbbed painfully. So many things — she did not know whether she had remembered them on her own or whether someone had told her. Everything was muddled.

The moment she tried to think, the pain returned.

“What is wrong?” Three distinct voices rang out simultaneously in the bedchamber.

Though he was standing a little further away, Jian Yi was the first to reach Feng Jiu’er’s side.

Feng Jiu’er drew a slow, deep breath and worked to bring herself to calm.

Jian Yi, standing directly before her, had taken a step toward her but now held still. Mu Mu had moved halfway toward her before stopping as well. And Zhan Qingcheng, still seated on the bed, was watching her — his expression, as ever, unreadable.

Not a word from any of them.

It seemed as though they were all simply giving her time.

Gradually, her breathing steadied. Feng Jiu’er exhaled softly.

Looking at everyone around her, her heart felt warm, and the pain in her head vanished as swiftly as it had come.

In that moment, Feng Jiu’er actually felt a surge of genuine admiration for the version of herself that had existed before — how had she ever managed to make several breathtakingly handsome men treat her so well all at once? That was simply too good a life to believe!

Though, three men and one woman, all under one roof…

Fortunately, Feng Jiu’er was fairly certain that Jian Yi held no romantic feelings for her.

As for Mu Mu, standing to her right — she was not yet entirely clear on what his feelings toward her were. But Jian Yi had said that every strand of his white hair had turned so because of her, and she found she believed it.

And him…

Her gaze came to rest on Zhan Qingcheng, and she found she was reluctant to look away.

He — surely he liked her, did he not?

A prince, willing to set aside half a kingdom, all just to accompany her in search of some manual — how could he not care for her?

Watching the girl with that completely lovestruck, spellbound expression on her face, Jian Yi, who was standing closest to Feng Jiu’er, felt something uncomfortable settle in his chest.

No matter how one looked at it, she did not seem to be in any distress at all. He had apparently worried himself over nothing.

“Let us go.” Jian Yi turned, exchanging a glance with Mu Mu.

With him here, what use was it for them to stay? Better to go back and get a proper night’s rest.

Having lost herself staring at a handsome man at such a critical moment — Feng Jiu’er truly wished she could pinch herself.

“Jian Yi.” She snapped back to herself and looked at the two who were about to leave.

“What is this missing half of the map? What exactly is going on?” She seemed to have some vague recollection of it — the Phoenix seal imprint.

But whether she had remembered it on her own or whether Jian Yi had told her, she truly could not recall. And why was there a missing half of the map at all?

Her head was beginning to ache again. Feng Jiu’er bit her lip and refused to dwell on it further, not wanting to alarm anyone.

Jian Yi stopped as he reached Mu Mu’s side and turned back to look.

“Ask him.” There were no outsiders present, and the two of them could take their time talking.

“Zhao Yusheng said the Phoenix seal map is still missing half of it, and that finding the manual may require locating the missing portion first.” Mu Mu was fairly patient when it came to Feng Jiu’er.

“Rest early. Jian Yi and I will keep watch.”

He cast a glance toward Zhan Qingcheng, then said nothing more, turned, and left.

Jian Yi raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and turned to follow.

Feng Jiu’er watched the two of them leave, at a complete loss as to how to call them back.

Only after the bedchamber door had been pulled shut behind them did she turn back to look at Zhan Qingcheng.

But the man who had been sitting upright a moment ago had already swung his long legs up and stretched out on the bed.

“Ninth… Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er called out softly.

“Sleep.” Zhan Qingcheng left her with a single word, and closed his eyes.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together in dissatisfaction and lay down on the chaise longue with unconcealed reluctance.

The reluctance was not because she was sleeping on the chaise longue while he had the bed.

She truly had lost her memories — and they knew that perfectly well, did they not?

And yet she was willing to trust them so readily, and not one of them could spare a few more words to explain.

What exactly was that about? She had genuinely lost her memories — did they think it was some kind of game?

A mythical martial arts manual, a missing half of a Phoenix seal map, a Feng Clan descendant…

There were too many things in her heart that she could not piece together. Feng Jiu’er was certain she would be lying there with eyes wide open until dawn.

Yet against all expectation, beneath that warmth of a presence that felt achingly familiar, her eyelids grew heavy, and before long, they drooped shut.

She opened them slightly, cast one more glance at the figure in the bed, and then her eyes closed, heavy with sleep.

Deep in the mountains not far from the imperial palace, two figures stood within a grove of trees.

One was a woman dressed as a nun — plain clothes in a pale, muted color, a cloth cap of the same shade on her head.

Even in the simplest of attire, she could not conceal her well-proportioned figure and the dignified elegance that clung to her bearing.

Yet beneath the dappled moonlight, that ravaged face of hers was enough to fill anyone who looked upon it with dread and horror.

The other was a woman whose silhouette was equally graceful and willowy.

She was dressed entirely in white, a white veil covering her face, leaving visible only a pair of bright, expressive eyes that brimmed with a fierce, concentrated killing intent.

The two women stood face to face beneath a canopy of towering, ancient trees. The wind around them grew wilder and wilder.

Withered branches and fallen leaves swirled and scattered in the gusts, circling the two of them.

And yet not so much as a dead leaf seemed able to approach either woman — not even a mote of dust could draw near.

The wind intensified further, and the world around them grew more and more chaotic.

But a natural shield seemed to envelop the two of them, protecting them within, and not even their sleeves stirred in the slightest.

After some unknown length of time, the woman in white spoke, her voice low and restrained.

“Who in the world are you?”