Feng Jiu’er turned her head to glance at Jian Yi, lightly pressing her lips together; her expression seemed to have improved slightly from before.

Suddenly, she wanted to go back.

But she didn’t know where it was she wanted to return to.

Was it the Bei Mu Kingdom? But she was clearly a princess of the Feng clan.

Besides, if she left, what would happen to the Fourth Imperial Uncle? She absolutely refused to leave him alone by himself.

“What’s wrong?” Jian Yi truly couldn’t bear to see Feng Jiu’er looking like this, and asked in a low voice.

“I’m in a bad mood, can’t you tell?” Feng Jiu’er shot Jian Yi a glare and stopped looking at him.

“I can tell, but you being in a bad mood doesn’t change the facts, so why bother being in a bad mood?”

Jian Yi furrowed his brows slightly, and also withdrew his gaze, looking ahead.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at the man beside her, then withdrew her gaze again.

What a textbook clueless straight man!

“You don’t even know how to comfort someone.”

“In the past, I only knew how to kill people.” Speaking of the past, Jian Yi held nothing back.

Perhaps it was because he felt he was different now — he could help save people, and he could also guard her, not letting her be bullied.

Recalling a phrase that sounded somewhat familiar, Feng Jiu’er couldn’t help curving her lips slightly.

This hitman, not too cold!

She didn’t know where she’d heard the phrase, but this legendary number one assassin of the Bei Mu Kingdom was not only not cold, but rather adorable as well.

“Why don’t you work as an assassin anymore?” Feng Jiu’er asked casually, her voice not loud.

“I have food and shelter, so why would I still go do something I don’t like doing?” Jian Yi glanced back at Feng Jiu’er, his thick brows lifting slightly.

“I think you’d better worry about the situation at the Princess’s Palace instead — you know full well a certain man’s temper.”

This girl had left early in the morning, with no idea whether the certain man in the palace hall had already exploded with anger.

Remembering something, Feng Jiu’er’s footsteps even paused for a moment; she suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.

The memory of fleeing from beside the Ninth Imperial Uncle that very morning was still vivid in her mind. She hadn’t expected that, in the blink of an eye, it was already noon — she wondered whether that fellow had eaten breakfast or not.

Thinking of all the possible scenes awaiting her at the Princess’s Palace, Feng Jiu’er unconsciously quickened her pace.

Before she had even gotten close to the Princess’s Palace, Feng Jiu’er already felt waves of cold air, and the place giving off that chill was indeed none other than her own bedchamber.

Passing through the main courtyard, Feng Jiu’er hurried to the front of the main hall and came to a stop.

“Jian Yi, you… come in with me. I have something to discuss with you.”

“I have nothing to say. I’m going back to eat first. Good luck to you.” Tossing out that line, Jian Yi heartlessly walked away.

Before Feng Jiu’er could even react, the door of the bedchamber suddenly swung open on its own.

Looking at the open door, she felt even less certain in her heart.

Was the Ninth Imperial Uncle angry? It seemed, it felt like, as if she had said she’d come back to have breakfast with him, hadn’t she?

Yet unexpectedly, it was already time for lunch.

Risking her life, Feng Jiu’er still cautiously walked in, and obediently turned around to close the door.

“Princess.” “Princess.”

Two maids appeared out of nowhere, and before Feng Jiu’er closed the door, they stood outside and called out softly.

“Go prepare breakfast.” Feng Jiu’er poked her head out and waved her hand at them. “No, prepare lunch instead. Two servings.”

“Yes, Princess.”

Before the maid’s words had even faded away, Feng Jiu’er had already shut the door of the main hall.

The air in the hall was far too thin, and carried waves of cold air besides.

This fellow — surely he hadn’t really skipped breakfast entirely, had he?

As she turned around, a gust of cold wind swept past, nearly making Feng Jiu’er unable to open her eyes.

Unexpectedly, the moment she clearly made out what was in front of her, she was startled by the man standing very close to her.

Feng Jiu’er’s eyes widened, though not quite enough to make her scream — unfortunately her body was too weak, and a gust of cold wind nearly knocked her over.

The man standing before her like a god reached out with his long arm and scooped up the girl who was falling backward, locking her in his embrace.

“Cough…” Feng Jiu’er was pressed so tightly she could barely breathe.

But looking at the man before her, so handsome she couldn’t tear her eyes away, she wanted to reach out and push him away, yet felt somewhat reluctant to do so.

Honestly, across however many lifetimes she had lived, she didn’t seem to have ever seen such a flawless man, without a single blemish.

Eh… when had she lived several lifetimes?

Zhan Qingcheng lowered his eyes for a glance, then coldly let her go.

By the time Feng Jiu’er had steadied her footing and come to her senses, all that remained in her view was the man’s cold, retreating back.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Pressing her lips together, Feng Jiu’er stepped forward toward the man seated on the couch.

At this point she could no longer be bothered with whether she herself was in a bad mood — the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s anger was a matter bigger than the sky!

The person on the couch had carelessly draped on an outer robe, and even his long hair was somewhat disheveled — likely he hadn’t bothered with it again after washing up that morning.

Yet none of this diminished his city-toppling looks; if anything, it added a touch of wildness to his handsomeness, beautiful enough to leave people infatuated and intoxicated.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to come back so late.”

Composing herself, Feng Jiu’er withdrew her gaze, tossed out that line, and turned to walk into the bedchamber.

In her impression, the Ninth Imperial Uncle was an extremely lazy person — where exactly that impression came from, even Feng Jiu’er couldn’t quite say.

Looking at the towel and cup carelessly tossed onto the washstand, Feng Jiu’er found her impression confirmed.

Perhaps because she understood the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s temperament, she felt somewhat troubled inside.

After all, he was someone she herself had brought back, yet no one was attending to him — even basic food and warmth were an issue.

Given the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s temperament, it seemed reasonable enough that he wouldn’t want to be attended to by maids he didn’t like.

Letting out a light sigh, Feng Jiu’er picked up a comb and turned to walk back out.

Just as she stepped out of the bedchamber, a maid knocked on the door of the main hall.

“Princess, the meal is all ready.” The maid’s voice carried in from outside.

They must have been scolded before — even their tone of speaking sounded somewhat careful and cautious.

“Come in.” Feng Jiu’er tossed out the words, already having moved to stand behind Zhan Qingcheng.

The man still carried that aura of cold air about him, yet she wasn’t the least bit angry.

With the two maids still present, Feng Jiu’er said nothing, gently combing the hair of the man who was flipping through a military treatise.

If it was servility, then so be it — what did it matter if, beside him, she acted like a servant girl? As long as she could accept it in her own heart, that was enough.

The two maids came out from the side hall, and Feng Jiu’er waved her hand.

The maids nodded and withdrew.

Having finished combing the handsome man’s long hair, Feng Jiu’er set down the comb and crouched halfway beside him.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Looking at that face, handsome enough to provoke heaven’s wrath and men’s envy, Feng Jiu’er blinked. “Let’s go eat — I’m hungry.”

Without waiting for him to refuse, Feng Jiu’er stood up and took hold of his arm.

Fortunately — whether it was because he was genuinely starving or for some other reason, she had no idea — but either way she managed to pull him up with surprising ease.

The two of them walked into the side hall together and sat down at the table.

Feng Jiu’er poured a cup of warm water and handed it to Zhan Qingcheng.

“Drink some water, calm down a little.”

Zhan Qingcheng took the cup, drank a sip, then set it down.

Just when Feng Jiu’er thought he was about to eat, he made no move at all.

She had no choice but to move closer and sit beside him, picking up a bowl and chopsticks, placing piece after piece of the dishes he liked into the bowl.