“Knock, knock, knock…” Outside the door, an urgent knocking suddenly sounded.

“Knock, knock… knock, knock…”

“Jiu’er, something’s wrong! Jian Yi coughed up blood, Jiu’er, are you there? Something’s wrong! Jian Yi coughed up blood!”

Hearing Xiao Yingtao’s voice, Feng Jiu’er’s eyes, which had just closed, snapped wide open.

The peerless beauty in her eyes shrank back somewhat, and only then did she slowly lift her head.

“Alright, I’ll be right there.” To keep Xiao Yingtao from coming in, she answered softly.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er took hold of Di Wu Ya’s arm, her face full of guilt.

She pressed her lips together, let go of him, and pushed herself up.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, something’s happened to Jian Yi, I need to go… check on him.”

Now that she had made her decision, Feng Jiu’er wouldn’t regret it.

She simply hadn’t expected something to happen to Jian Yi at a moment like this.

These past days, Jian Yi’s condition had been unstable, and she had been drawing up his treatment plan the whole time.

But as long as the inner demon wasn’t fully purged, there would still be plenty of unexpected complications she couldn’t foresee.

Feng Jiu’er stared unblinking at Di Wu Ya, her eyes brimming with tears.

She had truly been moved just now, and truly had made up her mind, so much so that her eyes had grown damp with emotion.

Di Wu Ya looked at her for a moment, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath.

When he opened his eyes again, the fire burning within them had dimmed considerably.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together, knowing she had wronged this man of hers.

She leaned forward again, and placed a light kiss on his lips, more lovely than peach blossoms.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, thank you for understanding, thank you!”

Di Wu Ya said nothing, only lowered his head to kiss her forehead, then turned and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Don’t worry! He’ll be fine.”

Leaving those words behind, he stood, turned, and walked toward the screen.

Damn it! The water behind it was all lukewarm now—nowhere near enough to cool the fire burning inside him.

Feng Jiu’er clutched her blanket, watching his tall, imposing figure, and pressed her lips into a smile.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, shall I have someone bring you cold water? Though, soaking in cold water right now could easily give you a chill.”

Di Wu Ya stopped in his tracks, his thick brows knitting slightly.

How could he have forgotten that his girl had always been mischievous?

Di Wu Ya gave a light cough and said flatly, “Send an order to Yu Jingfeng—tell him to get his self back here and bring this prince something to eat.”

If Yu Jingfeng had been around today, the good moment between him and his girl wouldn’t have been interrupted.

That damned Yu Jingfeng—slipping off the moment he got the slightest chance. He really ought to be properly disciplined.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, you haven’t even had breakfast?” Feng Jiu’er, clutching her blanket, got out of bed.

“Mm.” Di Wu Ya nodded slightly and continued forward.

“I’ll have it prepared for you right away—you can eat when you’re done bathing.” Feng Jiu’er went off to find her clothes.

“Don’t soak too long. After you eat, get some proper rest.”

The man made no reply, and she said nothing further, hurriedly dressing and pushing open the door to step out.

Xiao Yingtao was standing before the door, pacing back and forth.

“Jiu’er.” Seeing Feng Jiu’er emerge, she immediately turned and hurried over.

“Jiu’er, were you bathing?” she asked, looking at Feng Jiu’er’s loose, flowing hair.

Feng Jiu’er flushed slightly and nodded. “I dozed off without meaning to.”

“What happened to Jian Yi?” Without explaining further, she turned and headed outside.

“I’m not sure of his condition either.” Xiao Yingtao followed close behind.

Feng Jiu’er’s long hair hadn’t fully dried yet; after a quick combing, it now lay smooth and sleek.

She walked briskly, her hair streaming in the wind, without in the least diminishing her city-toppling beauty.

In Jian Yi’s room were Xing Zizhou, Leng Xuepiao, Yu Jingfeng, and a physician from the Tianji Hall.

The great hero of days past now lay on the bed, his face somewhat pale, his breathing perceptibly ragged.

When Feng Jiu’er strode in, the sight of Yu Jingfeng reminded her that her man still hadn’t had breakfast.

She hadn’t meant to forget—seeing how anxious Xiao Yingtao was, she’d grown more anxious than anyone.

“Yu Jingfeng, the prince is looking for you. Bring him something to eat on your way—he hasn’t had breakfast yet.”

“Alright!” Yu Jingfeng turned to look at Feng Jiu’er and nodded.

He glanced once more at Leng Xuepiao, went over, and gently patted her shoulder.

“Xuepiao, take some time to go back and rest.”

He left those words behind, turned, and strode out.

Feng Jiu’er glanced at Leng Xuepiao, then set her gaze on the physician.

“Brother Yan, what’s Jian Yi’s condition?”

Feng Jiu’er’s voice reached Jian Yi’s ears, and the man slowly opened his eyes.

“Jiu’er.” Jian Yi called out weakly, sitting up.

“Jian Yi, don’t be anxious!” He Jinyan hurried over to support him.

He Jinyan was the eldest physician at Tianji Hall, thirty years old this year.

His skill was plain for all to see.

Feng Jiu’er knew well that she couldn’t stay by Jian Yi’s side at all times these days, and could only rely on He Jinyan for help.

“Jiu’er.” Jian Yi pushed away He Jinyan’s hand, his gaze fixed only on Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er looked at He Jinyan and nodded slightly.

He Jinyan stood and stepped aside, yielding his place.

Feng Jiu’er set the blanket down at the head of the bed, helped Jian Yi up, and let him lean against it.

“Jiu’er.” Jian Yi took hold of Feng Jiu’er’s small hand, gripping it tightly.

“Jiu’er, don’t leave me!” He looked at her, his eyes reflecting nothing but her captivating face.

“Jian Yi.” Feng Jiu’er brushed back Jian Yi’s loose, scattered hair, held his hand, and pressed her fingertips to his pulse.

The moment she felt it, her brow furrowed instantly, and she turned back.

“Brother Yan, when I left yesterday, Jian Yi’s condition was stable. What exactly happened?”

“Jiu’er, I don’t know what happened either.” He Jinyan let out a faint sigh.

“He was perfectly fine yesterday, and today he just…”

“He drank his medicine just now, and vomited—vomited a great deal of blood. Jiu’er, I’m afraid Jian Yi may have developed a resistance to our medicine.”

“Jiu’er, just now Brother Yan sent someone to fetch me, and Xuepiao happened to be with me, so we came together,” Xiao Yingtao said, her face troubled as she recalled what had just happened.

“Jian Yi really did cough up a lot of blood. Seeing that something was wrong, I came to find you at once.”

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded slightly and waved a hand.

“Xing Zizhou and Xiao Yingtao, go check on Chen Hong. If there’s anything unusual, come back and tell me right away.”

“Xuepiao, go rest. Brother Yan, please stay.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

Xiao Yingtao and Leng Xuepiao nodded at the same time, turned, and headed out, with Xing Zizhou following behind.

Feng Jiu’er touched Jian Yi’s forehead and said gently, “Jian Yi, you should lie back down. Let me examine you.”

Jian Yi looked at Feng Jiu’er, his eyes somewhat vacant, saying nothing, staring at her without blinking.

Feng Jiu’er knew Jian Yi’s condition must be off. Normally, aside from constantly calling her “wife,” he was otherwise more or less fine.

Right now, his breathing was very weak, and he looked as though he might collapse at any moment.