It seemed to have started from the night Lu Beicheng told Zhen Jiu’er that he had no memories from before he turned eighteen.

Ever since that day, the way Jiu’er looked at him had grown more and more affectionate, more and more familiar.

As if she had truly found her Ninth Imperial Uncle.

Lu Beicheng’s large hand rested on Jiu’er’s head, gently stroking her hair.

What on earth was going on inside this girl’s head?

Did she really think of him as her Ninth Imperial Uncle?

But how could he possibly be her Ninth Imperial Uncle? He had no impression whatsoever of that title.

If this was fate carried over from a past life, wasn’t that thought a little too superstitious?

Still…

His fingertips traced down along Jiu’er’s forehead, between her brows, down the bridge of her nose.

Before he knew it, they had landed on her lips.

Soft, tender, an incomparably good feeling to the touch.

If he were to taste them…

Perhaps even Lu Beicheng himself didn’t know what he was thinking. After his fingers brushed against Jiu’er’s thin lips, he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head.

The little thing was sleeping on his lap, too low for him to reach.

He slid his large hand behind her collar, cradling her neck, and carefully lifted her up.

In his arms, Jiu’er shifted into a more comfortable position.

She seemed completely at ease with her current surroundings—she merely changed position and fell back into a deep sleep.

But what she didn’t know was that a pair of eyes as sharp as a hawk’s had already locked onto her! The way he looked at her was like looking at a helpless, delicious prey.

This was the first time in Lu Beicheng’s life that he’d felt such an impulse toward a woman.

Suddenly, he had the urge to swallow her whole.

Lu Beicheng was absolutely a man of action—the thought had barely taken root before he’d already lifted her into his arms.

He lowered his head, his lips going from faintly cool to suddenly burning hot, about to cover Jiu’er’s lips.

But just at that moment, the sound of footsteps suddenly came from outside: “Ninth Master!”

It was Ji Mingyu’s voice.

Jiu’er blinked, waking up.

She opened her eyes and immediately let out a shriek: “Ah! Ninth Imperial Uncle!”

Him! What was he doing?

Ninth Imperial Uncle—no, Ninth Master.

Ninth Master’s face was so close she couldn’t even make out his features clearly at this distance.

But this feeling, this presence—it was Ninth Master’s. She knew perfectly well whose arms she’d been sleeping in.

But… why was he so close to her?

“You… what are you doing?” Jiu’er hurriedly scrambled out of Lu Beicheng’s arms, staring at him in alarm.

Had he been trying to secretly kiss her? He must have been!

Given how close he’d gotten, denying it now would be quite a stretch, wouldn’t it?

“You’re the one who seduced me, and you’re asking what I’m doing?” As the girl fled from his arms, Lu Beicheng felt his embrace go suddenly empty—and felt, somehow, disappointed.

“I… when did I seduce you?” Jiu’er’s small face flushed red at once.

“Who was it that was pressing into my arms just now? You threw yourself at me, and I’m a normal man—what’s so strange about having thoughts?”

“I didn’t!” She’d been asleep; she had no idea what she’d done.

But Lu Beicheng looked like an upright, decent person—nothing like… a shameless philanderer.

Could it be that she really had thrown herself into his arms just now?

That couldn’t be right—had she even dreamed of her Ninth Imperial Uncle?

How could she have done something so shameless?

Lu Beicheng seemed to have lost interest in the topic, looking instead toward the tent flap. “What is it?”