Feng Jiu’er saw that Jian Yi had no rebuttal, tilted her head to glance at him, and continued, “So? Why don’t you try spending some time with Qinchun?”

“Who knows, maybe—”

“I think you two would suit each other quite well.” Jian Yi turned back very earnestly, looking at Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er held his gaze for a moment, then grabbed at his shoulder—which she could never quite get a grip on—and shoved him again.

“Stop moving around while I’m applying the medicine. If the wound splits open again, you’ll be the one suffering for it.”

She was a little speechless. No matter how she explained things to this Great Hero Jian Yi, why did he never understand what she meant?

Family affection, friendship, romantic love—in Jian Yi’s eyes they were all the same thing. Could this conversation even continue?

In the end, Feng Jiu’er decided that whenever she had time, she really would need to give Jian Yi more chances to spend time with other women.

After all, no matter how much she said now, no matter how earnestly she tried to persuade him, it wouldn’t do any good.

“All right, leave this matter to me.” Feng Jiu’er furrowed her brow slightly, tossed out that one line, and said nothing more.

She knew very well that Jian Yi definitely wouldn’t understand her meaning this time. This fellow was simply too innocent—she could talk until her mouth went dry and he still wouldn’t get it.

So whether he understood or not no longer mattered all that much. As long as she herself knew what she needed to do, that was enough.

After Feng Jiu’er finished properly tending to Jian Yi’s wound, she stepped out of the small room and walked into another side chamber.

She handled a few matters, and finally freed up some time to head toward the side hall.

When Feng Jiu’er knocked on the door of the side hall, the man standing inside, Yu Jingfeng, could barely hold on any longer.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, it’s me.”

When Yu Jingfeng heard Feng Jiu’er’s voice, he immediately perked up.

“Your Highness, let me go open the door first.”

Without waiting for Di Wu Ya’s response, Yu Jingfeng dashed off like a puff of smoke—truly ran, not an exaggeration in the slightest.

He really couldn’t imagine it—Miss Jiu’er had been gone with Jian Yi for so long and still hadn’t returned. He wondered whether His Highness would end up banishing him to the frontier for it.

“Miss Jiu’er.” Yu Jingfeng opened the door, looking at Feng Jiu’er with a grin so wide his eyes nearly vanished.

Feng Jiu’er raised her eyes and glanced at Yu Jingfeng. She didn’t need to ask much to guess roughly how tense things had just been inside.

She waved her hand and stepped into the side hall.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er called out affectionately. She hadn’t even entered yet, but her heart already felt as if it were already with the man inside.

She missed him. So much. So very much.

The man sat there, his robes slightly creased, clearly showing he had rushed back in a hurry.

Not only had he come back—he had arrived just in time, right when she had been in danger.

Feng Jiu’er felt that Ninth Imperial Uncle was her guardian spirit for this lifetime. No matter how much calamity she faced, as long as he was there, she could always turn misfortune into fortune.

How could she ever let go of a man like this?

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er came to Di Wu Ya’s side and called out softly once more.

The man seated at the head of the table was holding a book.

Perhaps, if the little girl’s words hadn’t been quite so clingy, he would have set the book down and properly spent some time with her.

But for some reason, after hearing that soft, sweet voice, the force with which Di Wu Ya gripped the book in his hand noticeably increased.

Whether the words on the page had actually entered his eyes—only the War God Prince himself knew that.

Feng Jiu’er looked at the man pretending to be diligent, curved her lips slightly, and sat down close beside him.

Of course, she wasn’t saying Ninth Imperial Uncle wasn’t diligent—it was just that at times like this, he usually liked to tease her, to make her wait on him, didn’t he?

Feng Jiu’er sat down beside Di Wu Ya. She didn’t “dare” touch him, and even less did she “dare” speak—she could only quietly keep him company.

Di Wu Ya waited for quite a while, but still didn’t hear the little girl’s next words. He turned his head slightly and glanced at the woman who was gazing up at him.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was a touch deep, even carrying a hint of indifference.

Of course, that was all an act!

Feng Jiu’er wasn’t the least bit discouraged by his attitude. She met his gaze, blinking her eyes, her voice gentle and soft. “I was waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?” Di Wu Ya’s thick brows lifted slightly. “Waiting for me to do what?”

“I drew you a bath, and I prepared some delicious food, but I didn’t know when you’d finish your work.” Feng Jiu’er said, pressing her pink lips together.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, you’ve worked hard. Let me give you a massage.”

The words had barely left her mouth when Feng Jiu’er stood up, came around behind Di Wu Ya, raised both hands, and placed them on his broad, sturdy shoulders, gently kneading them.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, go on with your work. I’ll massage you—it’ll help you feel more relaxed.”

Di Wu Ya set down the book and suddenly stood up.

Feng Jiu’er’s gaze slowly lifted as he rose.

She met his eyes, blinking her round, large eyes, and asked, “Ninth Imperial Uncle, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”

“I want…” Di Wu Ya lowered his eyes to look at the woman in his arms, raising an eyebrow slightly, “…to feel more relaxed.”

With that one line tossed out, he reached out his long arm to scoop Feng Jiu’er up.

Feng Jiu’er finally came back to her senses under his unusual gaze, pushed against his large hand, and took the chance to slip her arm through his instead.

“If you want that, I’ll take you there myself.”

The words had barely fallen when she took his arm and started walking outward.

No matter what, this wasn’t their own residence. She was the chief physician here, and if anyone saw her being carried out, it wouldn’t look proper.

So for these few steps, she’d better walk on her own—no need to trouble this handsome man who’d already been so tired for so long.

Feng Jiu’er led Di Wu Ya out of the side hall and into a side chamber, then took the initiative to shut the door.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, this is where I usually rest. It’s very quiet, and clean too. You’ll like it.”

Once inside, Feng Jiu’er let go of Di Wu Ya, stretched out both hands, stood in front of him, and began untying the cords of his robe.

“I had a bath drawn for you, with good medicinal herbs added. Soak well, and it should clear away all the fatigue in your body.”

Di Wu Ya lowered his eyes to look at the woman before him, his expression unreadable, though at the very least his demeanor seemed satisfied.

“Do I look tired?” he asked in a low voice as Feng Jiu’er undressed him.

Feng Jiu’er removed his outer robe and hung it up, then turned her attention to his inner garment.

Besides helping him wash away his fatigue, she also wanted to check whether he had been injured during this time.

There shouldn’t be internal injuries—unless he was deliberately hiding them, otherwise she would easily be able to sense them.

As for external injuries, if the wound had already healed, her sense of smell alone wouldn’t easily detect it.

Feng Jiu’er gently untied Di Wu Ya’s inner garment and moved from his front around to his back.

After checking all the way around and finding no wounds, she finally let out a breath of relief.

“It’s not that you look tired—it’s that I was worried for you. Is that all right?” Feng Jiu’er came back around to face Di Wu Ya, looked up at him, and pressed her lips together.

Di Wu Ya lowered his eyes to meet Feng Jiu’er’s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly.

But Feng Jiu’er didn’t give him a chance to speak. She took his hand and led him toward the area behind the screen.

“Come quickly! The water’s already getting cold—don’t waste all the thought I put into this.”