A hissing sound.
The sound of a blade slicing through flesh.
Jiu’er felt no pain at all.
But the air had already begun to carry the smell of blood.
And the scent of a deadly poison.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle!” She understood! She finally understood!
Why Xia Zi had attacked her.
No—the person Xia Zi meant to attack had never been her, not from the very start.
The person she wanted to kill was Ninth Master!
But she was too cunning. She knew that with her own abilities, assassinating Lu Beicheng directly was impossible.
So she had set her sights on Jiu’er instead.
She knew Jiu’er was Lu Beicheng’s weakness.
As long as Jiu’er was in danger, even someone as composed as Lu Beicheng would inevitably lose his calm.
So she attacked Jiu’er.
And so, in order to save Jiu’er, Lu Beicheng completely disregarded his own safety!
That blade strike had been blocked by Lu Beicheng’s outstretched hand.
The wound itself wasn’t fatal, but the blade was poisoned—and that poison could kill!
“Ninth Master!” Ji Mingyu rushed over and kicked Xia Zi hard.
Xia Zi was sent flying by the kick, slamming into a nearby table with a bang before rolling to the ground.
“Ninth—”
“What did you call me… just now?” Lu Beicheng grabbed hold of Zhen Jiu’er’s hand as she reached to check his wound, his expression gradually darkening.
“You care about me only because you think of me as your Ninth Imperial Uncle?”
This question had been weighing on his mind all along.
Even he found himself conflicted, confused.
But he refused to be anyone’s substitute. He wasn’t some Ninth Imperial Uncle—he was Lu Beicheng, a person with absolutely nothing to do with any Ninth Imperial Uncle!
“No, Ninth—Master, I’ll explain this to you later. Let me look at your wound first.”
Xia Zi’s blade had been poisoned, and the blood dripping from the wound on his hand was dark black—he’d already been poisoned!
“Old Ji, hurry and bring my medical kit! And have A’Ke get the antiserum from the fridge, quick!”
“Got it!” Ji Mingyu was about to leave when he saw Xia Zi crawling up from the ground, still trying to reach for the knife that had fallen there.
He hurried over, picked up the knife, and turned to give Xia Zi another kick to knock her out for safety.
But Jiu’er called out urgently, “Don’t kick her stomach!”
Ji Mingyu froze for a moment, then simply hauled Xia Zi up and dragged her out.
“Qin Fei!”
Qin Fei arrived quickly.
But the matter of Ninth Master being poisoned and injured couldn’t be revealed just yet.
They could only have Qin Fei drag Xia Zi to another tent and keep watch over her.
“Ninth Master, don’t move. I’m going to let out some blood to draw out the poison now.”
Jiu’er knelt down in front of Lu Beicheng, took out silver needles, and held his hand.
“What exactly did you call me just now?” Lu Beicheng’s expression remained grim.
He insisted on fixating on this point, which left Jiu’er both anxious and irritated. “Ninth Imperial Uncle! I called you Ninth Imperial Uncle!”
“You…”
“Because you ARE my Ninth Imperial Uncle! No one else, there’s no one else—it’s you, Lu Beicheng!”
“What… do you mean?” He realized his breathing had gone somewhat unsteady.
He wasn’t sure if it was from the poison, or from her words.
“Don’t say anything else…” Jiu’er was truly afraid now—if she didn’t draw out the blood soon, it would be too late.
But of all times, he had to be more stubborn than anyone: “Explain it clearly!”
“Ninth Master…”
Watching his face grow paler and paler, yet seeing his eyes still burning with resolve, Jiu’er bit her lip before finally speaking: “Do you believe in past lives and this life?”