Inside the small stone hollow, the two of them stood there, holding each other.

Feng Jiu’er kept hoping the rain would stop soon. Jian Yi’s body was so hot — if this kept up, he was bound to come down with a fever.

This timely, heavy rain meant their water source problem shouldn’t be too serious anymore.

Hurry and let the rain stop, get down the mountain quickly, and brew Jian Yi some medicine — that was the priority now.

Feng Jiu’er kept worrying about Jian Yi’s condition, loosening her hold every so often to check his forehead, growing increasingly anxious.

As for Jian Yi, once he’d pulled her into his embrace, he made no further movement.

He held her close, his body leaning gently toward her, while his arms stayed firmly braced against the rock, terrified that Feng Jiu’er might get hurt against the stone.

The rain fell for a long stretch before it finally began to ease.

The pattering sound outside gradually faded, and Feng Jiu’er patted Jian Yi’s waist lightly, then let go of him.

“Jian Yi, how are you feeling now? Let’s head down the mountain — don’t actually catch a cold.”

Feng Jiu’er’s words fell like a stone into the sea, stirring not a single ripple.

She frowned, gently pushed Jian Yi back, took hold of the arm he’d used to embrace her, and pulled it away.

“Jian Yi, don’t scare me. Are you really not feeling well?”

Feng Jiu’er hadn’t forgotten — for nearly two hours, Jian Yi hadn’t moved at all, and even when she’d spoken to him, he hadn’t said a word.

“Let me take a look at you.”

She held his arm and pressed her long fingers against his pulse.

Jian Yi suddenly pulled both arms back and stepped away.

“I’m fine.”

He refused Feng Jiu’er’s touch.

Feng Jiu’er looked up at him, stunned for a moment.

The great hero Jian Yi usually had quite a temper, but never with her — especially not when it came to matters of his health. He was always obedient about that.

What was wrong with him today?

Before Feng Jiu’er could ask anything more, Jian Yi turned and walked away, leaving her with nothing but his retreating back growing smaller in the distance.

“Jian Yi.”

Feng Jiu’er followed him out.

The rain had stopped, though the sun hadn’t come out yet. The brothers who’d been hiding among the bushes and under the rocks emerged one after another.

Every single one of them was soaked through — except for Feng Jiu’er, whose clothes hadn’t gotten wet at all.

“Jiu’er, did you take shelter in a cave?” Xiao Yingtao asked, looking at her with envy.

Everyone else was soaked — why was Jiu’er completely dry?

“Just dried off,” Feng Jiu’er said.

She looked at Jian Yi’s retreating figure and frowned before stopping in her tracks.

Could the great hero Jian Yi actually be feeling shy?

Did he even know how to feel shy?

Feng Jiu’er couldn’t explain his strange behavior any other way — after all, the two of them had just spent that much time embracing.

She was already involved with a great beauty of her own, and for Jian Yi to remain composed through all that and only start feeling shy afterward — that was already quite something.

Still… Feng Jiu’er thought it over and decided to go after him anyway.

“Jian Yi, go on back first. Don’t catch a chill.”

“Jian Yi, did you hear me? Go back first!”

“Fine!”

Jian Yi’s low, hoarse voice carried back to her.

Feng Jiu’er let out a small sigh of relief at his response and turned her attention elsewhere.

As long as he was willing to go back first, that was enough — she still had matters of her own to handle.

After the heavy rain, the waterfall roared down in full force, and the brothers all looked on with delight.

By the time Feng Jiu’er and the others returned to camp, it was already the end of the hour of Shen.

The river flowing down from the high mountain passed through the village, at some distance from the thatched hut where Feng Jiu’er was staying.

Now that they’d finally secured a water source, the camp of tens of thousands of soldiers had made a few adjustments.

Along both sides of the drinkable river, tents had been pitched — their own people.

Such tents extended all the way to the forest at the base of the high mountain.

Soldiers had even been posted to guard the path up the mountain.

Having safe water to drink was a crucial prerequisite for the plans that lay ahead.

After a long, busy day, the brothers who’d been out finally got to eat a hot meal.

It was only after this late lunch that Feng Jiu’er noticed Jian Yi was nowhere to be found.

“Has anyone really not seen Jian Yi?”

Feng Jiu’er asked the nearby brothers.

“No!” one of them said, shaking his head. “But he did come back once, then we lost track of him again.”

“Did he come back to change his clothes?” Feng Jiu’er asked.

“Yes,” the brother replied. “Jian Yi came back, changed clothes, and even had lunch, but no one’s seen him for over two hours now.”

“All right.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and turned to leave.

Qiao Mu and Gong Xinyue had changed into men’s clothing and walked over together.

The two of them were nearly identical in height and build — Gong Xinyue’s skin was just noticeably darker.

With their height and a bit of styling, they truly did pass for young noblemen.

Handsome, dashing young gentlemen indeed.

“Jiu’er, are we heading into town?” Qiao Mu asked.

That was what they’d agreed on earlier when they’d returned. Qiao Mu just couldn’t figure out why Feng Jiu’er still hadn’t gotten dressed for it.

Feng Jiu’er stepped forward at once and clapped a hand over Qiao Mu’s mouth.

“Shut up!” she whispered in warning. “Ninth Imperial Uncle hasn’t agreed yet. If he hears—”

“So you haven’t told him?” Qiao Mu asked, mouthing the words silently.

“No!” Feng Jiu’er shook her head.

“So Feng Jiang doesn’t know either?” Qiao Mu frowned.

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and released her grip on Qiao Mu’s mouth.

“Let’s go.” She said only that one word and pulled Qiao Mu forward by the hand.

“Do you have anything in your room that would fit me?” Feng Jiu’er asked after they’d walked several steps.

“There should be something,” Qiao Mu said, eyeing Feng Jiu’er’s slender frame with some doubt about her own words.

“No time to waste — we’ll act first and explain later.”

Before nightfall, two “men” and one woman entered the heart of the town.

Feng Jiu’er had originally wanted to wear men’s clothing too, thinking it would make things easier, but as it turned out, none of Qiao Mu’s menswear fit her at all.

In the end, Feng Jiu’er settled for darkening her skin to match Gong Xinyue’s complexion.

Seeing this, Qiao Mu disguised her own skin as well.

The three of them avoided the main road, taking a side path to slip past the guards and into town.

“Young master, will you be dining, or…?”

As they passed the largest brothel in town, a heavily made-up woman looped her arm through Qiao Mu’s, batting her peach-blossom eyes as flirtatiously as she could manage.

The suggestion couldn’t have been more obvious.

Qiao Mu coughed lightly and shifted the arm that had been taken hold of.

The woman patted her shoulder gently, then reluctantly let go.

“Sir, you’ve already come this far — won’t you step inside and sit a while?”

Qiao Mu turned to glance at the two people not far off.

At a glance, they looked like a man and a woman — in truth, they were Gong Xinyue and Feng Jiu’er.

“Wh-what is it?”

The woman’s hand pressed against Qiao Mu’s shoulder once again.

A flash of disdain crossed Qiao Mu’s eyes, though she kept holding it in.

“Ahem…” Qiao Mu coughed lightly and drew her gaze back. “Do you still want her or not?”

The woman finally caught on, withdrew her hand, and took another careful look at the two people in the distance.

“So you two are…”

“Do you want her or not? Just say the word!”

Qiao Mu’s voice rang out, cold and flat.

“Yes, we want her. With merchandise this fine, why would I worry about finding a buyer?”