Being held from behind by Ninth Imperial Uncle in so ambiguous a posture, Feng Jiu’er instinctively moved to struggle free.

But the moment he murmured, “This Prince is tired,” the force she had been gathering in her arms — the force meant to push him away — vanished entirely in an instant.

He truly did not look well tonight. The Gu Poison had lurked within him for so long, wearing steadily at his heart meridian over time.

Without a powerful physique, living the semblance of a normal life would have been impossible entirely.

Yet Ninth Imperial Uncle not only lived as a normal man — he fought, he moved with speed, and he surpassed the average expert by a thousandfold.

The last time she and Yu Jingfeng had found themselves in danger, it had been Ninth Imperial Uncle’s intervention alone that had saved her life.

Tonight, to see him worn down like this was — in all the time she had known him — the very first time she had ever witnessed him show any sign of exhaustion.

A strikingly beautiful man has his advantages, she reflected. A woman simply cannot bear to watch him suffer. The moment she heard him say he was tired, her heart all but dissolved — how could she possibly refuse?

Feng Jiu’er tugged at her own fingers, wanting to turn and look at his face, but he had buried it in the curve of her neck and gave her no opportunity to do so.

His temperature fluctuated strangely — alternating between cold and warm. She had already taken his pulse earlier: chaotic in rhythm, forceful yet unstable.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I understand you are tired — but why don’t you draw the blood first, and then rest?”

Feng Jiu’er thought herself perhaps the most pitiable living medicinal vessel in all of history — here she was, actively coaxing him to drink from her.

But in his current state, without the blood, things would only deteriorate further.

She still could not quite understand what quality this body of Feng Jiu’er’s possessed that made it work so precisely against his Gu Poison. Whatever the reason, the fact that it worked was undeniable.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle — drink first, then sleep. Won’t you?”

Zhan Qingcheng’s awareness had, in truth, already grown somewhat hazy. Even as exhausted as he was just now, sleep had stubbornly refused to come.

But she had arrived. And with her scent surrounding him, he felt an overwhelming urge to sleep.

He was genuinely drained. The long battle against the Gu Poison had battered his heart meridian once more, leaving every vein in his body straining at the edge of its limits.

Now that she was here — with her gentle fragrance around him — he wanted nothing more than to hold her and sleep for a while.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle — we can sleep in a moment. All right?”

“Truly ‘we’?” His starlit eyes, already closed, did not open. Not even his lids stirred. His voice was rough with fatigue — yet that very roughness lent it a rakish, devastating quality.

Feng Jiu’er’s heart lurched. She nearly lost all restraint, nearly turned around and threw herself at this devastatingly beautiful man—

No, no, no! Desire is a blade hanging overhead! This was not a man she should be entertaining such thoughts about!

No — wait. What was she even saying, “should” or “shouldn’t”? What was going through her head? She was a proper young lady!

Composure. Composure!

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, you — ah! Ninth Imperial Uncle, what are you doing?!”

The ties of her inner garment — he had undone them.

Feng Jiu’er immediately clutched herself, staring at him wide-eyed and speechless.

“Drawing blood.” Had she not been the one begging him to do so? He was simply giving her what she asked for.

Feng Jiu’er felt she could weep without tears. “Drawing blood is one thing — but why are you touching my clothes?!”

It was already the last layer — the innermost, closest garment she had. At this point, it did not interfere with anything. To remove it further was entirely unnecessary.

The man behind her, however, discarded the garment and remarked, without particular interest, “It was in the way.”

His cool, thin lips pressed against her shoulder. His sharp teeth grazed across the skin.

“Mm—!” Feng Jiu’er bit her lip and let out a small, stifled sound. She looked down at the large hands wrapped around her, and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Drawing a little blood, and he still managed to make the whole thing so unspeakably charged — in all of history, in all of time, there could only be one such person as her Ninth Imperial Uncle.