Lu Feifan froze for a moment, apparently not expecting her to be so direct.

He didn’t respond.

Zhen Jiu’er began eating her fried egg, speaking somewhat indistinctly: “Don’t waste time. The moment you saw my bracelet, you weren’t careful with what you said, and it exposed your real voice.”

She was extremely sensitive to voices—just one sentence was enough for her to remember clearly.

In truth, it wasn’t quite Mu Mu’s voice, but it was close.

Just like with Ninth Master.

Not entirely identical to her Ninth Imperial Uncle, but whether in speech or manner, even the voice, it carried that same feeling.

When angry, when frowning, when scoffing coldly, when too proud to acknowledge someone—all of it carried the flavor of her Ninth Imperial Uncle.

And now, this Lu Feifan in front of her looked so much like Mu Mu, and his mannerisms and voice carried that same flavor too.

So even though he was the man in black from last night, Jiu’er couldn’t muster any hostility toward him.

She simply didn’t know what exactly he was trying to do.

Lu Feifan seemed to be mulling over her words.

Zhen Jiu’er said nothing further either, simply lowering her head to eat breakfast.

Just as she finished the last sip of warm milk and set down her cup, she looked up to find Lu Feifan still staring at her.

With a scrutinizing gaze.

“If you have nothing else to say, I’m going over to watch them excavate the Northern Emperor’s tomb.”

Right now, Mu Mu was right in front of her, even though he didn’t recognize her at all.

But seeing this face, this body, set Jiu’er’s heart at ease.

It was as if Mu Mu were still alive in this world, as if he had never truly died.

So that tomb of the Northern Emperor wouldn’t make her feel as troubled anymore.

To be precise, her mood right now was very good.

“What do you want?” Just as Jiu’er was about to stand up, Lu Feifan finally spoke.

Zhen Jiu’er looked at him, studying him for a good while before saying with a smile: “You sneak around luring me out, and now you’re asking me what I want?”

Wasn’t that question supposed to be hers to ask?

Wasn’t this a case of the thief crying “stop, thief”?

Lu Feifan’s expression was blank, completely different from the gentle, warm demeanor he’d shown earlier with Lu Beicheng.

But it was, in every way, an expression that belonged entirely to Mu Mu.

That man—he had his gentle, warm moments, and he had his unfathomable, deeply guarded moments too.

Just like now.

He always kept too many things hidden in his heart; his expressions weren’t necessarily genuine either.

Jiu’er’s mood grew even better: “What exactly are you trying to do? And why were you so shocked looking at my bracelet?”

She raised her hand and shook it in front of him.

Letting him see the concentric-key chain on her wrist even more clearly.

Lu Feifan’s heart tightened slightly, his fingertips clenching.

His hand instinctively moved to reach toward his own chest, but in the end he forced himself to hold back and lowered it.

“Where did that chain come from?”

“Someone gave it to me.”

“Who?”

“Is that something I can just tell you casually? I still don’t know whether you’re friend or foe.” Jiu’er smiled at him, then stood up and waved her hand at him.

“As for what happened last night, I don’t know when I’ll tell Ninth Impe… Ninth Master. Depends on my mood.”

“But if you have ulterior motives toward Ninth Master, I won’t just stand by and watch either… and don’t even think about silencing me. Kill me, and you’ll never learn the secret of the concentric key.”

“It’s this very chain, you know.”

She shook the bracelet on her wrist again, smiled at him once more, then turned and left.

Her mood really was very good.

Mu Mu was still alive.

That was simply what she’d decided—he was still alive.

He was still alive. That was enough.