Ninth Imperial Uncle was poisoned this deeply, his heart meridian damaged, his injuries this grave — did Feng Jiu’er still begrudge a little blood?

At this moment, all she wanted was for him to get well. A little blood truly did not matter.

So what was there to ask about willing or not willing? Even Ninth Imperial Uncle talked nonsense sometimes. The sun was rising from the west today.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, hurry.”

She turned her back toward him and glanced back over her shoulder. “Quickly!”

Zhan Qingcheng’s complexion instantly flushed a deep red. Didn’t the book say that in such matters, a young lady would be bashful and hesitant, and so the man ought to take the initiative?

How was it that when it came to his little Jiu’er, she was the one being so forward?

But then again, since the young lady was being forward, how could he be the one to hesitate?

Moreover, the figure before him was so lovely that a single glance sent that suppressed energy churning all over again.

Zhan Qingcheng gave a light cough and leaned toward her back.

Though he was excited — so excited that he was nearly on the verge of coughing up blood again from the wild surging of his blood and energy.

Even so, he still felt a little apprehensive.

Tonight’s timing was not ideal. That wretched Gu Poison had left him far weaker than usual.

If he did not attend to her well enough, would the little girl hold it against him in the future?

The book said that half an hour or more marked a man of strength…

Under ordinary circumstances, he was confident an hour would pose no difficulty. But tonight… had he known, he would not have struck in a way that injured his own heart meridian. What if it left this girl unsatisfied? What was he to do then?

No matter what, he must hold out for at least half an hour…

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, why haven’t you started yet?” Feng Jiu’er, clad in nothing but a thin undergarment, bit her lip and furrowed her delicate brows.

This fellow — surely he couldn’t still want her to… to discard the very last piece as well?

Things had already come to this point, and he was this physically frail. Could he not just make do?

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

“Mm.” His voice fell from just above her head — he had already leaned close.

But rather than acting immediately, he gazed at her from head to toe, at the figure that set his blood roaring, and called out softly, “Jiu’er.”

Oh! How was it that Ninth Imperial Uncle’s voice sounded so… alluring, so… enticing!

Feng Jiu’er’s heart gave a violent lurch, and her whole body nearly trembled.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

“This Prince… will be gentle. Don’t be afraid.” His hand came to rest on her arm, and his voice was, for the first time, truly gentle — as soft as a breath of wind.

“I’m not afraid.” Feng Jiu’er exhaled lightly. “Go ahead.”

Wasn’t it just drawing a little blood? She was used to it by now. She was not afraid, because Ninth Imperial Uncle knew how to minimize the pain for her.

The look in Zhan Qingcheng’s eyes turned utterly dark. The long fingers resting on her arm finally began to slide downward.

His palm — damp with perspiration, trembling with barely-contained urgency — reached beneath her arm and pulled her into a firm embrace…

Two seconds of silence.

Then, from within the room, a young woman’s horrified scream suddenly erupted —

“Aah! Ninth Imperial Uncle, what are you doing?! Let go of me!”

……

Jiu’er was occupied for an entire night, and it was only at the stroke of midnight that she finally emerged from Zhan Qingcheng’s room.

Yu Jingfeng had been keeping watch outside the entire time, never having left for a single moment.

Seeing her come out, he did not dare ask anything aloud. It was only after the two of them had walked to the courtyard that Yu Jingfeng ventured to ask in a low voice, “Has His Highness gone to sleep?”

“He has.” Feng Jiu’er let out a long breath and raised her hand to touch her brow. Sure enough, it was covered with a thin layer of perspiration.

Yu Jingfeng also wiped at his own perspiration, his heart still aching — aching for His Highness.

Tonight, His Highness had vomited blood three times. He had watched with his own eyes, his heart wrung with pain. Looking at Feng Jiu’er’s flushed little face, he could not help but ask, “His Highness… is he still angry?”