Qiao Mu and Jian Yi were just outside Feng Jiu’er’s chamber, and both of them, standing at the doorway, could hear every word she said inside.

So as not to disturb the two people within, Qiao Mu continued blocking Jian Yi’s path.

She looked at Jian Yi and raised an eyebrow lightly.

“I told you everything is fine. Go rest.”

Jian Yi glanced at her, withdrew his gaze, and turned to head back.

Qiao Mu watched until Jian Yi went inside his own room before she turned and walked away.

She herself did not know what had come over her — neither of the couple inside had given any orders, yet here she was, willingly standing guard at their door.

“How was it?” Catching sight of Qiao Mu returning, Xiao Yingtao immediately asked.

“A man and a woman alone together — what do you think?” Qiao Mu swept Xiao Yingtao with a glance. “I still have things to attend to. If you want to watch, watch by yourself.”

“No!” Xiao Yingtao caught hold of Qiao Mu’s hand. “If someone tries to go in and disturb them, you can at least turn them away, can’t you?”

“This is a critical moment — how can you not be here?”

Qiao Mu looked back at Xiao Yingtao, eyes half-lidded.

“Their critical moment, and I’m supposed to stay and stand guard?”

“Exactly.” Xiao Yingtao nodded, turning to look at the chamber door. “Good sister, don’t be so fussy — stand guard for a bit. It won’t cost you a thing.”

Xiao Yingtao’s mind had already drifted back inside the chamber, yet she kept her grip on Qiao Mu.

Qiao Mu looked at her, then at the closed door, feeling somewhat helpless.

Behind the two of them had been Mu Mu, but not long after Qiao Mu came over, he had quietly slipped away on his own.

“Jiu’er actually got into a sparring match with the Ninth Prince inside the chamber — I’m growing more and more impressed with her,” said Zhao Xiaoxiao from not far away, also gazing toward Feng Jiu’er’s room.

Zhao Yusheng, seeing that nothing out of the ordinary was happening, also headed back toward his own chamber.

Qiao Mu wanted to leave but found herself unable to, so she had no choice but to stay.

Inside the chamber, Zhan Qingcheng set Feng Jiu’er down on the bed and sat down beside her.

“I want to spar with you.”

Feng Jiu’er had just sat up when Zhan Qingcheng gently pressed her back down.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I want to spar with you!” Feng Jiu’er glared up at the man before her.

In terms of sheer strength, she knew she was no match for him — she was hardly going to be foolish enough to try that.

“Why must you insist on sparring?” Zhan Qingcheng pinned Feng Jiu’er’s hands, leaning down as he lay beside her.

Giving Feng Jiu’er no chance to act, he tightened his arms and pulled her into his embrace.

Not wanting the little girl to feel confined, Zhan Qingcheng left her just a small amount of space.

Feng Jiu’er pushed against that chest — solid as a bronze wall, firm as iron — and lifted her gaze to meet Zhan Qingcheng’s eyes.

“I have long wanted to measure myself against you. Why won’t you give me the chance? I am not weak anymore.”

Feng Jiu’er felt full of energy right now. Even if Zhan Qingcheng refused to spar, she would find someone else to practice with.

Of course, she still hoped to spar with him — to witness the true strength of the Prince of the War God would itself be a gain.

“The moment I allowed you to take up residence in my heart, you already won.” Zhan Qingcheng held the woman in his arms gently, his voice soft.

Meeting his eyes, so tender and gentle, and hearing those words, so full of feeling, the fire that had been burning inside Feng Jiu’er suddenly turned into a tiny, startled deer.

She was stunned for quite a while before she blinked and murmured, “Who taught you to say such things?”

A Ninth Imperial Uncle who could speak such words was far too dangerous — too lethal!

Just moments ago she had been full of fighting spirit, yet because of a single line from him, even her voice had changed.

Zhan Qingcheng’s lips curved into a faint, bewitching smile, and he leaned his head closer.

Feng Jiu’er stared, unblinking, at that breathtakingly handsome face — so devastatingly beautiful it seemed almost unfair — and nearly surrendered completely.

Then, just as Zhan Qingcheng’s guard was down, Feng Jiu’er abruptly came to her senses.

She pushed aside the arms holding her, flipped herself off the bed, and stood up.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, didn’t you say the robe I made for you was quite good? Try it on quickly — if it doesn’t fit properly, it will need to be taken back for alterations.”

“Otherwise, with the Lantern Festival tomorrow, the shop owner won’t even be open.”

Feng Jiu’er snatched up the garments she had casually set aside moments ago and walked off without a backward glance, unable to recall even what she was saying.

Because she was absolutely certain of one thing: if she stayed a moment longer, she would lose all control over herself.

She shoved open the inner chamber door with force, stepped out in wide strides, and drew a deep, desperate breath — as though even the air inside that room had been completely drained away.

Thinking of how close she had come to putting the Prince of the War God on the spot right then and there, Feng Jiu’er gave a small cough and straightened her back, her expression brimming with quiet satisfaction.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, your robe is right here — come out and try it on yourself.”

“I’m off to deliver the robes for Mu Mu and Jian Yi first. Otherwise, they’ll have to attend tonight’s Lantern Festival in their old clothes.”

Without waiting for any reply from inside, Feng Jiu’er gathered Jian Yi’s and Mu Mu’s robes in her arms and shot out of the chamber like an arrow.

The slam of the door behind her rang out clearly — not only to Zhan Qingcheng still inside, but to everyone outside as well.

Those standing guard outside, watching for entertainment, had not expected things inside to quiet down so soon, with Feng Jiu’er emerging so quickly.

Seeing her clothes perfectly in order, quite a few faces fell with a measure of disappointment.

“Jiu’er.” Spotting Feng Jiu’er coming out with the robes in her arms, Xiao Yingtao hurried over. “You didn’t actually… put the Ninth Prince flat on his back, did you?”

The word “flat,” Xiao Yingtao nearly had to squeeze it out of her mouth — her voice so low it was barely audible.

Feng Jiu’er gave her a withering look and said quietly, “If I had that kind of ability, you’d be the first one I’d put flat.”

“Jian Yi.” She came to the door of Jian Yi’s chamber and knocked lightly. “I’ve brought your robe.”

Without waiting for his response, Feng Jiu’er pushed open the door and walked in.

Jian Yi inside was sitting quietly reading a book. Hearing Feng Jiu’er enter, he merely lifted his head slightly.

“So this is the full extent of the Ninth Prince’s capability?”

The words had barely left Jian Yi’s mouth when a gust of cold air swept in from outside, startling Xiao Yingtao into stepping back.

Knowing immediately who had come in, Feng Jiu’er had no time even to protest before she spun around.

Facing Zhan Qingcheng’s towering figure, the young woman holding the robes summoned her best smile.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’ll come and help you try your robe on in just a moment. Let me deliver Jian Yi’s first — his robe, I’ll hand to him now, and Mu Mu’s I was planning to give to Xiao Yingtao to pass along.”

“Jian Yi doesn’t have a robe at all — if I don’t bring it to him, he’d have to attend tonight’s Lantern Festival…”

“Is he standing there without a stitch on right now?” Zhan Qingcheng swept Jian Yi with a glance, his voice cool as he cut Feng Jiu’er off.

“This Prince still has matters to attend to, so I can only stay for the time it takes half an incense stick to burn.”

“Alright, I understand, I know — please go ahead, I’ll be right there. I promise! Right away.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Feng Jiu’er glanced at Xiao Yingtao.

“Here, take this to Mu Mu.”

Xiao Yingtao nodded, her steps a little stiff as she moved to stand beside Feng Jiu’er.

Fortunately, just as she reached out to take Mu Mu’s robe, the man behind them left.

The two women standing in the room watched Zhan Qingcheng’s retreating figure and both exhaled deeply with relief.

Xiao Yingtao’s chatter filled the chamber.

“When the Ninth Prince gets angry, it’s so… terrifying!”