In the end, no one quite knew how it happened, but the Ninth Prince really was driven out.

After Feng Jiu’er had tried persuading him for the longest time with no success, one line — “If you won’t listen, I’ll never speak to you again” — was enough to make the Ninth Prince, sulking with a sour face, walk out of the tent.

“Ahem, Your Highness, please sit.” Yu Jingfeng, as if he’d anticipated this all along, had even gotten a chair ready.

Zhan Qingcheng swept an icy glance over him, and Yu Jingfeng immediately lowered his head, not even daring to make a sound.

They had been talking inside, and because of the distance, the girls in their rooms couldn’t hear.

But Yu Jingfeng, standing guard right outside the tent — how could he possibly not hear clearly?

The Ninth Prince, who had never been intimidated by anyone and lived entirely as he pleased, had actually come out at once because of a single line from Miss Jiu’er.

Even if he felt wronged, even if he wasn’t the least bit willing, even if… he had clearly wanted to watch Miss Jiu’er bathe and change — still, the Ninth Prince had come out.

The Ninth Prince had finally come out! He sat right there on the bench outside the tent.

The night breeze blew past, stirring his sash and long hair — a portrait of breathtaking male beauty, glowing with an alluring sheen beneath the moonlight.

“I just want to throw myself at him…”

“I want to eat him up!”

“I want to, I really want to throw myself into his arms…”

“Ahhh, I want to make him mine…”

“I want to keep him locked up just for myself, boo hoo…”

Some of them were genuinely moved to tears at the sight of his peerless beauty, eyes brimming!

“Wait, doesn’t this count as… the prince being driven out by Feng Jiu’er?”

“It does seem… that’s exactly what happened.”

“That cursed Feng Jiu’er, how dare she drive our Ninth Prince out!”

“I’d gladly bathe and change in front of him.”

“Me too…”

After about the time it takes two sticks of incense to burn, the Ninth Prince went back into the tent.

With that figure tempting enough to make one sin gone from their sight, countless people felt an indescribable disappointment.

What was the point of making such a thick tent? Once the Ninth Prince went in, they couldn’t even see his silhouette anymore.

And there was no telling what he and Feng Jiu’er were doing in there, alone together, just the two of them… though of course, with Zeng Lanyue having slit her throat, what difference was there between her and a corpse?

Still, with Feng Jiu’er so ugly and the Ninth Prince so ethereally magnificent, surely he would never touch Feng Jiu’er.

The most worrying thing was if Feng Jiu’er couldn’t help herself in the middle of the night and pounced on the prince, pinning him down…

Inside the tent, the two of them stared at each other, big eyes meeting small — one of them looking quite pleased with the sight, the other looking rather gloomy.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, she most likely won’t wake up tonight — it’ll probably take until tomorrow at the earliest. Why don’t you go back and rest first.”

Zhan Qingcheng paid no attention to what she said, and instead reached out his hand: “Come here.”

She wanted to say no! But her legs wouldn’t obey her, and she walked right over anyway.

“What is it?” The Ninth Imperial Uncle’s charm was like poison — not something an ordinary person could resist.

Her head spun for just a moment, and somehow she’d already come over.

“The night’s already deep — keep this prince company while he sleeps a while.” Pulling the girl onto the bench, he let himself fall back, dragging her down with him.

Feng Jiu’er hadn’t meant to, but at that moment she truly was sprawled on top of the Ninth Imperial Uncle, looking for all the world as if she’d pounced on him and knocked him down.

But it was he who had pulled her down!

“Ninth Imperial Uncle!” She tried to struggle free.

Zhan Qingcheng closed his eyes, the trace of weariness between his brows refusing to fade.

“This prince is tired.”

It wasn’t that she couldn’t tell he was tired — but Ninth Imperial Uncle, if he was tired, couldn’t he just go back to his own Qingfeng Garden?

“Without the scent of your body to smell, this prince can’t sleep.” His eyelashes were long, casting two fan-shaped shadows over his eyelids, indescribably beautiful.

Feng Jiu’er felt as though she’d been bewitched yet again by his beauty. Still — Ninth Imperial Uncle, did he really have to speak in such a suggestive way…