Inside, Qiao Mu placed Feng Jiu’er’s clothes into a basket and, carrying it out, found no one left in the tent.

She looked left and right, confirming Feng Jiu’er was no longer there.

“This girl—does she have to be in such a hurry? Did she even finish dressing?”

Qiao Mu shook her head and went over to lift the tent flap.

“Someone, prepare bathwater for me.”

With brothers all around, there was no way Feng Jiu’er would have left without dressing properly.

It was only that she had moved rather quickly.

By the time Feng Jiu’er arrived outside Di Wu Ya’s tent, her racing heart had been forced into a calmer state.

There was no denying it—these past days, she had been waiting for him to wake.

“Miss Jiu’er.” The moment Yu Jingfeng lifted the flap, he caught sight of Feng Jiu’er.

He was overjoyed, practically wishing he could carry her straight in and deliver her to Di Wu Ya himself.

“Miss Jiu’er, you’ve finally arrived. His Highness the Crown Prince has woken up—he’s been waiting for you for so long.”

Had His Highness really been waiting for her for that long? Given his temperament, did he seem like the sort of person willing to wait?

Still—he woke up, and the first thing he wanted was to see her? Was Yu Jingfeng sure he wasn’t lying to her?

With an uneasy heart, Feng Jiu’er stepped into the tall tent.

Inside, a tall figure sat at the edge of the bed—besides him, there was no one else in the tent.

As Feng Jiu’er entered, the person sitting on the bed was already looking at her.

She frowned and quickly closed the distance, reaching out to support his shoulder.

“What are you doing? You can’t sit up right now—lie back down.”

When Feng Jiu’er had heard the news that Di Wu Ya had woken, she had assumed he had simply, plainly, woken.

Had she known this man would sit up the moment he woke, she should have come even sooner.

But Di Wu Ya did not listen to Feng Jiu’er. Instead, the moment she came near, he pulled her tightly into his arms.

The bed was low, and Di Wu Ya, sitting on it, was just slightly shorter than Feng Jiu’er—truly, only just slightly.

He stretched out both arms, wrapping them around her, and buried his head against her neck.

Held in his embrace, Feng Jiu’er was momentarily stunned.

Back in his arms once more, she could not put into words how she felt.

For a long stretch of time, she had kept telling herself not to think of him—not to, even in her dreams, dream of him.

Back then, she had carried the weight of avenging the Long Family, single-mindedly seeking out Zhan Liyue for revenge—how could she possibly think of her enemy’s son?

And yet, unexpectedly, when the two of them met again, everything turned out different from what she had imagined.

The so-called enemy was not him, nor was it her—even their respective families had merely been victims, just like them.

They had met carrying hatred; she had nearly stabbed him to death. By the time the truth came to light, it seemed as though everything was already too late.

Zhan Liyue was dead. Wuyou was dead. Her own mother was dead too.

The tangled relationships between them were a knotted mess, far too complicated to untangle.

Yet seeing him on the brink of death, the only thought she’d had was to save him—even at the cost of her own life.

Today, not only had they driven off Zhan Yuheng and Zhan Lingtian, but he had also woken up—truly, a day worth celebrating.

Feng Jiu’er quickly came to her senses. She took a deep breath, braced her hands against his shoulders, and tried to push him away.

But he only tightened his hold on her, his breathing growing visibly more rapid.

Feng Jiu’er glanced sideways at the head resting against her neck and remarked flatly, “Keep this up, and you’ll be coughing up blood soon enough.”

“After coughing up blood, you might well faint as well. Perhaps this time you’ll sleep even longer than before…”

Before Feng Jiu’er could finish speaking, Di Wu Ya, still holding her, lay back down.

Worried about touching his wound, Feng Jiu’er had no choice but to yield to the strength of his hold, lying in his embrace.

Having reached the point where he simply could not be left to stay any longer, Yu Jingfeng lowered his head and turned away.

“Miss Jiu’er, the moment His Highness woke up, he drove everyone else out. I’m leaving him in your hands—if anything comes up, just call out, and I’ll be right here.”

With those words, Yu Jingfeng strode out.

“Yu Jingfeng.” Held in Di Wu Ya’s arms, Feng Jiu’er called out softly.

Yu Jingfeng stopped immediately but didn’t dare turn back. “Miss Jiu’er, what are your orders?”

“Prepare the medicine, and some plain rice porridge. Since he’s awake now, also prepare bathwater—he’ll bathe again tonight,” Feng Jiu’er said softly.

“Understood. I’ll go prepare it right away.” Yu Jingfeng nodded, lifted the flap, and stepped out.

The moment he stepped outside, Yu Jingfeng called out loudly, “Without Miss Jiu’er’s order, no one is to enter.”

“Understood.” The one who answered was Long Yi.

The earlier announcement that the Crown Prince had woken had merely been meant to ease the brothers’ worries.

Now that His Highness truly had woken, those who knew were overjoyed.

Inside the tent, only the two of them remained, and it was very quiet.

Feng Jiu’er curled up, nestled in Di Wu Ya’s embrace.

Suddenly, she realized that, facing him once again, she could not say a single word.

Di Wu Ya held her tightly, burying her entirely against his chest, and he too said not a single word.

Time passed by, drop by drop, and on the bed, the two of them could hear nothing but each other’s breathing and heartbeats.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before Feng Jiu’er, without realizing it, closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

It seemed she hadn’t rested properly in a very, very long time—even when she had managed to sleep before, it had been deeply restless.

Back in this familiar embrace once more, she only then realized just how much she still cherished it.

Surrounded by this familiar scent, Feng Jiu’er gradually let her guard down, and in the end, she drifted off to sleep without even realizing it.

Yu Jingfeng, taking the medicine a brother had brought him, called out twice from outside, but no one answered. He had no choice but to steel himself and step inside, head lowered.

The inside of the tent was very quiet. He wasn’t sure what was happening, so he simply set the medicine down and stepped back to one side.

The moment Yu Jingfeng lifted his eyes, he was met with a sharp glare from Di Wu Ya.

Having gone so long without being on the receiving end of His Highness’s displeasure, Yu Jingfeng nearly lost his footing for a moment.

Still, that His Highness had woken up at all was already more than enough to make Yu Jingfeng happy.

He glanced once at Feng Jiu’er’s head, then turned back, carrying the medicine bowl toward the bed.

He hadn’t expected that His Highness would still be awake, while Miss Jiu’er would be the one fast asleep.

Feng Jiu’er’s hardships—Yu Jingfeng had witnessed them all, taking them to heart. Having lived through everything alongside her, he both respected her and ached for her.

“Your Highness, this is the medicine Miss Jiu’er ordered prepared. I think you should drink it.”

Yu Jingfeng arrived at the bedside and stopped, not daring to lift his head.

Given the current circumstances, His Highness was not in a state to stand up and punish him—so as long as he didn’t look directly at His Highness, it would be fine.

“Your Highness, please don’t let Miss Jiu’er’s efforts go to waste.”

“Back when Ye Xuening had people empty out the medicine stores of two entire cities, there was one particular herb that Miss Jiu’er risked her own life to find, venturing into the imperial city herself.”

“Your Highness, won’t you just drink the medicine? Please?”