“Yesterday you stood up for her, and now, their people all know your legs have recovered.”

The very thing Yan Qiu had been worried about seemed to be coming true, one step at a time.

“Master Nine, you can’t bring yourself to strike at him, but he has never once shown you any mercy. Now you have a girl by your side that you care about—eventually he will use this weakness of yours against you.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about this, but does refusing to talk about it make it stop existing?”

Yan Qiu had been by his side for so many years; the two of them had been through life and death together, so Yan Qiu understood Lu Beicheng’s affairs better than anyone.

Including everything about his family!

“He’s tried everything before to get rid of you, and it’s never once worked. But now you have Zhen Jiu’er by your side, and last night you even stood up for her…”

“Even a hero struggles to get past the beauty pass—no matter how strong you are, the moment you fall for someone, you have a weakness. He won’t miss the chance to exploit this fatal flaw of yours!”

Lu Beicheng still said nothing, only his long fingers began to twitch slightly.

“Since you clearly have worries in your heart, why won’t you tell me?” The moment Yan Qiu saw his index finger move, he knew—Lu Beicheng wanted a cigarette again.

Only when he was troubled did he crave smoking that badly.

But as good as this taciturn man was in every other way, this was the one truly bad habit of his—he really hated talking.

Yan Qiu found it utterly helpless.

“Do you actually like Zhen Jiu’er?” He still couldn’t understand it.

A girl who hadn’t even graduated yet, who understood nothing… well, fine, perhaps she understood more than most.

But no matter how you looked at it, she was still just a young girl.

To someone like Lu Beicheng—worldly, experienced, with a wealth of life behind him—what kind of charm could a young girl like that possibly hold?

“At the very least, tell me why you care about her so much.”

Would it kill this man to just say something?

Yan Qiu was nearly driven mad.

Finally, just before Yan Qiu was about to burst from frustration, Lu Beicheng spoke, his face still expressionless: “The first time I saw her, I felt something I couldn’t explain—like a familiarity carved into my bones. But I’m certain I’ve never met her before.”

“This…” Yan Qiu quickly shut his mouth, holding his breath, waiting to hear the rest.

He was afraid that if this taciturn man said a few more words, he’d fall silent again.

Fortunately, today Lu Beicheng seemed more inclined to talk than usual.

He spoke again, slowly: “After that day, I only had that dream once. And then, last night, I dreamed it again.”

“Did something change?” Yan Qiu had a feeling—that dream that had haunted him for years must have shifted somehow.

Lu Beicheng glanced sideways at him, still not quite used to sharing his private thoughts with others.

But if even Yan Qiu couldn’t be told, then in this world, there was probably no one left who could truly draw out his willingness to confide.

Finally, he spoke again: “In last night’s dream, the girl was Zhen Jiu’er. She called me Ninth Imperial Uncle.”

…After Jiu’er finished breakfast, she checked her watch—it was already almost eleven in the morning.

She wiped her mouth, packed her things, and once again thought about going to find Lu Beicheng.

The matter of the Tongxin Key had to be resolved—that pendant meant too much to her!

Ah Ke blocked her path again.

But this time, before Zhen Jiu’er could even try to plead her case, Qin Fei came rushing out from the direction of the North Emperor’s tomb.

“The inner mausoleum has opened! We can go in now!”