That night, Qiaoqiao slept in Jiu’er’s tent.

At some point, Lu Beicheng had gone to the outside of Jiu’er’s tent, and upon learning that there was another girl inside besides her, felt an inexplicable annoyance rise within him.

Had he known, he wouldn’t have handed this project to the Qiao family.

Now, he had the strange feeling that some third party had disrupted the rhythm of his life.

This frustration had nowhere to vent.

In the end, he could only slink back to his own tent, defeated.

Past midnight, the entire camp fell into deep quiet.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the day’s travel—Qiaoqiao had barely lain down before she began snoring loudly.

After that, no amount of shaking could wake her.

It was Jiu’er, instead, who was kept wide awake by her snoring.

Of course, she didn’t blame her—Qiaoqiao really was exhausted. But being unable to sleep was still being unable to sleep, and the misery of tossing and turning was truly unpleasant.

Finally, Jiu’er got up and slipped out of the tent.

Outside, it was very quiet.

She checked the time—past three in the morning.

Everyone was asleep at this late hour; even A’Ke had found a corner to rest in.

With Qiaoqiao around tonight, A’Ke hadn’t kept watch over Zhen Jiu’er.

Now that she was out here, Jiu’er found herself unexpectedly free and at ease.

Not far off was the small river, the place where the professor’s accident had occurred. Qin Fei and his people were still keeping watch there.

Jiu’er didn’t want to disturb them, so she turned and walked in another direction instead.

That direction led toward the Northern Emperor’s Tomb.

Now that the main group had arrived today, tomorrow they would most likely re-plan the excavation of the Northern Emperor’s Tomb.

Jiu’er wasn’t even sure how it happened, but as she walked and walked, she found herself out of the camp entirely.

Looking back, she realized she had put quite some distance between herself and the camp.

Though it wasn’t far, she had still stepped outside the safe perimeter.

With so much going on recently, she really shouldn’t stir up trouble.

Thinking this, she decided to turn back.

But then, from the direction of the Northern Emperor’s Tomb, there suddenly came a stir of movement.

Someone was there!

Zhen Jiu’er’s eyes darkened, and, almost by reflex, she immediately gave chase.

The dark figure walked ahead of her, its pace not particularly fast, and Jiu’er quickly caught up to him.

But it didn’t take her long to realize that he was deliberately leading her along, so she stopped in her tracks, quietly watching the figure walking ahead.

It was the man in black she had seen that other night.

He didn’t seem to belong to the same group as those assassins—each time, he acted alone, moving by himself.

Sensing that she had stopped following, the man in black slowed his own pace, then turned and walked toward her.

“You’re clever.” His voice was clearly disguised, pitched low so that his true tone couldn’t be recognized.

“Who exactly are you? Why did you lead me here? Do we know each other?”

Jiu’er tilted her head, sizing him up.

His face was covered by a soft leather mask, making it impossible to see what he truly looked like.

But for some reason, Jiu’er felt that this man seemed to bear her no hostility.

To her surprise, instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own: “Who are you? Why can you stay by Lu Beicheng’s side?”

He knew Ninth Master?

Could it be that he hadn’t come for her at all?

Just as Jiu’er was completely unable to figure out his intentions, the man’s gaze fell, almost without thinking, on her wrist.

Suddenly, his eyes darkened, his pupils contracting sharply. “What is this?”

He closed the distance to Jiu’er in a single step, reaching out as if to seize her wrist.

Jiu’er instinctively stepped back, sending a palm strike toward him in reflex.