Feng Jiu’er had only just settled onto her horse’s back, hadn’t even had time to lift her head, when she clearly heard the sound of the brothers around her drawing in sharp, startled breaths. What was going on? Even Qiao Mu, walking not far from her side, was staring with his mouth hanging open, utterly speechless.
She raised her head — and caught a flash of a white-robed figure before her eyes. Then, from behind, someone alighted onto the horse, a long arm extended, and she found herself pulled into a full, encompassing embrace.
Shock. Disbelief. Overwhelming astonishment.
The eyes of the brothers practically rolled out of their heads and onto the ground — they were so startled they nearly tumbled from their saddles themselves.
Was this still their cold and peerless Ninth Prince, who kept all people at a thousand miles’ distance and had never been known to go near any woman? Yet now — what was the Ninth Prince doing? He had actually seated himself on Miss Jiu’er’s horse and was riding with her on the same mount — that was one thing — but those two arms of his — what were they doing? Why was he holding Miss Jiu’er like that?
No, no — the real question was: why was Miss Jiu’er leaning back against the Ninth Prince’s chest? Didn’t she know their Ninth Prince had never allowed himself to be near any young lady? How could Miss Jiu’er be so outrageous!
This was an absolute defilement of their noble Prince!
Ahhhh! Leng Yue could have drawn her blade and cut someone down on the spot! How could this be happening! He was holding Feng Jiu’er — he was holding Feng Jiu’er!
Ahhhh! She wanted to kill someone! No — she was going to kill someone, right now! Ahhh!
“Calm down!” The far-sighted Yu Jingfeng, seeing Leng Yue surge forward, hastily spurred his horse to cut her off. “Miss Jiu’er is bullying our Young Lord! Our Young Lord is being bullied by her!” Leng Yue trembled with fury — her entire body was shaking!
Last night she had seen their lord sleeping with his head in Feng Jiu’er’s lap — just resting his head in her lap, that was all. But today — right now — what she was seeing was the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms, Feng Jiu’er leaning against their lord’s chest! They were embracing each other!
“Well — Leng Yue — look carefully. It’s… it’s His Highness who is bullying her.” Yu Jingfeng was reluctant to admit it himself, but it was, in fact, the truth.
With so many pairs of eyes watching, Miss Jiu’er had been sitting perfectly on her own horse’s back, about to set off. And then their Prince had simply gone over there of his own accord — and once he got there, pulled the young lady into his arms without a second thought. If that wasn’t bullying someone, what was?
If the Prince weren’t devastatingly, world-shatteringly handsome, looks enough to move heaven and earth — this kind of behavior would simply be harassing a respectable young woman. Of course, given the Prince’s appearance, the word “harass” had absolutely no place here — he was simply being a little mischievous. That was all.
Well — Yu Jingfeng didn’t even know what he was thinking anymore. In short, his heart was in chaos. Absolute chaos.
In the end, it was Emperor Ji who gave a light cough and assumed an air of composure. “Yu Jingfeng — it’s time to get everyone moving.”
“…Yes, my lord.” Yu Jingfeng shot Leng Yue a sharp look. Seeing that Leng Yue, with great reluctance and obvious ill will, had retreated to take her position behind His Lordship’s carriage, he then called out in a clear voice: “Move out!”
Still, this time Yu Jingfeng rode directly behind Feng Jiu’er and Zhan Qingcheng. He had to keep his own eyes on them — just in case Leng Yue truly could not hold herself back and lunged at Miss Jiu’er to tear her apart.
The Prince, truly — well. This kind of irresistible magnetism — it really did drive women to madness all too easily. And now even Leng Yue was on the verge of genuinely losing her mind.
The convoy began to move. But Qiao Mu was still staring after those two departing figures, utterly unable to come back to herself.
The Ninth Prince… her deeply cherished Ninth Prince was right there before her eyes. And yet — it was as though a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers lay between them. He was right there, close enough to touch, and yet reaching even a single thread of his robe seemed impossibly, impossibly difficult.
All the more so because he was pure as snow and clear as frost — so clean, so radiant. To touch him seemed as though it would taint him, as though it might dim the brilliant light that shone from him.
What was within reach had become something remote as the far horizon — utterly, hopelessly beyond grasp.
And yet — he was clearly there, openly being mischievous with Feng Jiu’er. So why was it that, watching him, she felt the Ninth Prince was still as untouched as a white lotus? His playfulness could not, in anyone’s eyes, be called the least bit improper. If anything, she only felt that this Ninth Prince was so mischievous, so endearingly lovable…
“Miss Qiao — it’s time to move out.” Yu Jingfeng rode up alongside her, offering the reminder.
He had always known their Prince was nothing but a catastrophe — the kind of gorgeous disaster that brought ruin to kingdoms and chaos to nations. And look — wasn’t there yet another one on the verge of losing her mind?
Qiao Mu turned her head and gave him a fierce, sharp glare, then spurred her horse forward. Even so, she only dared to follow in the wake of the horse carrying the Ninth Prince and Feng Jiu’er — she did not dare to ride alongside them.
Yu Jingfeng felt a little wronged. What was that glare for? What had he done? All he had done was remind her it was time to set off, hadn’t it?
These young ladies — each and every one of them so inexplicably odd. Was it really so difficult to behave normally when they saw their Prince?
Of course, those left shaken were not only these onlookers — there was also Feng Jiu’er herself. When someone had alighted behind her and pulled her into that embrace, her palm had instinctively gathered a surge of force, ready to send the person flying off with a single strike. But the moment she caught that scent — the scent she was growing more and more familiar with — the force in her palm instantly dissolved.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle?” Why had he suddenly sat down on her horse? Wasn’t there no shortage of horses in the convoy? More importantly — why was he holding her in such an ambiguous posture, with so many people watching?
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, you — would you like to ride a horse? I can ask Yu Jingfeng to—”
“This Prince is a little tired.” Zhan Qingcheng’s voice was slightly hoarse — the sound of genuine fatigue.
That single word, “tired,” and Feng Jiu’er dared not stir. She immediately straightened her back to let him lean against her.
In truth, what everyone outside could see looked as though Feng Jiu’er was leaning back into the Ninth Prince’s arms — but the reality was entirely the opposite: the Ninth Prince was pressing himself against Feng Jiu’er’s back.
Asking him to come out and sit on a horse’s back — yes, it was a little tiring. One couldn’t expect a gravely injured man to have the same formidable vigor as he usually did.
Still, the real reason Zhan Qingcheng was “tired” in this moment was, more than anything else, that he simply liked pressing himself against his little girl. His chin resting on her shoulder, both arms wrapped around her slender waist, his face nearly buried in the curve of her neck. This way, he could do as she had suggested and get a little sunshine — and at the same time breathe in the faint, delicate fragrance that clung to her. Two benefits in one.
If Feng Jiu’er had known that her one casual remark about getting some sunshine would bring her this much trouble — would she have dared say it at all?
Ninth Imperial Uncle… was so heavy, honestly!
This proved, beyond any doubt, that one’s eyes could absolutely deceive oneself. Ninth Imperial Uncle looked so ethereally graceful, so entirely as though he did not partake of the mortal world’s food and drink. And yet — why was he this heavy? So heavy, so terribly heavy — she was practically being crushed to the point of losing her breath.
“Ninth — Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er let out a low, labored breath, hoping that if she made him lean on her a little, he might gather the strength to sit up a fraction. But Ninth Imperial Uncle responded softly in her ear: “Mm?”
And after that, Feng Jiu’er discovered that she had completely, irreversibly developed a submissive streak where he was concerned. “N-nothing. If you find this comfortable, then… let’s just stay like this.”