Mu Mu’s head of stark white hair was always so conspicuous — no matter where he stood, it was always the first thing anyone noticed.

The moment Feng Jiu’er caught sight of that white hair, her heart couldn’t help but ache.

Every time she saw Mu Mu now, guilt would come crashing over her like a tide. If not for herself, how could Mu Mu have ended up like this?

He was the one who had saved her life, yet because of the Ninth Imperial Uncle, she had once even suspected Mu Mu’s motives for being here — suspected whether he harbored ill intentions toward the Ninth Imperial Uncle.

She had done that… suspected a man who had been willing to throw his own life away for her sake.

Mu Mu was also looking at her, but he only gave a calm smile and said nothing more.

What Feng Jiu’er didn’t know, however, was that the Ninth Prince had already been calling for her, and by now, every single person in the main hall of the Martial Training Tower had their gaze fixed upon her.

Yu Jingfeng grew a little uneasy and quickly murmured under his breath, “Miss Jiu’er, His Highness… His Highness is calling for you.”

Only then did Feng Jiu’er snap back to her senses. She immediately walked over and gave Zhan Qingcheng a slight bow. “My respects—”

His sword-like brows furrowed ever so slightly. A wave of awkwardness swept through Feng Jiu’er’s heart — she knew he was displeased. But with so many eyes watching, could she really call him Ninth Imperial Uncle in front of everyone?

After all, she wasn’t like Zhan Luori, a child of the imperial family.

“This girl must have been so dazzled by the sight of her imperial uncle that she lost all her wits and forgot even her basic manners.”

Zhan Luori gave a casual wave of her hand and said lightly, “Little one, come sit with me.”

Zhan Luori was the Seventh Princess — a young woman — and there was nothing particularly wrong with her being on good terms with Feng Jiu’er. Inviting Feng Jiu’er to sit beside her was perhaps slightly improper by protocol, but there was no other issue with it.

Feng Jiu’er walked over and sat down beside Zhan Luori.

She was keenly aware that the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s gaze upon her had grown dangerously cold again, but at a moment like this, she had no choice but to pretend not to notice.

Seeing that the Ninth Prince made no comment, Yu Jingfeng immediately drew everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand.

“You there — come forward and remove your upper garments.”

Feng Jiu’er didn’t see what the problem was. Wasn’t it perfectly normal to watch men undress?

But the very moment Xing Zichuan began removing his clothes, Zhan Qingcheng swept his long sleeve outward, and Feng Jiu’er immediately felt a gust of cold air strike her full in the face.

Her long hair was lifted by the force of his palm strike, her entire body carried along with it, and she ended up sprawled softly in her chair, back facing everyone.

The palm strike left Jiu’er a little dizzy and disoriented, yet the force behind it had been perfectly measured — it hadn’t harmed her in the slightest.

Feng Jiu’er was just about to sit back up when Zhan Luori, seated beside her, said with a languid air, “Does this girl perhaps enjoy watching men undress?”

There was even the faintest hint of teasing in her voice.

Sure enough, this girl was even more entertaining than she had imagined. To sit there in plain sight as a man disrobed before her, without flinching or dodging, without even the faintest blush on her face — quite remarkable indeed.

Only then did Feng Jiu’er abruptly understand — the Ninth Imperial Uncle was telling her not to look?

But she was a doctor! Someone who had studied medicine — how could she be afraid to look at a man’s body?

Besides, the man was still wearing his long trousers, wasn’t he? If she couldn’t even bear to look at an upper half, what kind of doctor would she be?

Even in that tense atmosphere, suppressed laughter drifted up from below — it was Xing Zichuan.

Only then did Feng Jiu’er remember, and her small face flushed slightly — not from shyness, but from the teasing of these people.

She shot a glare at Zhan Luori sitting beside her, full of indignation. “Isn’t the Seventh Princess also watching?”

Xing Zichuan had already removed his upper garment, and Zhan Luori was staring away with wide-open eyes, not showing the slightest intention of averting her gaze.

She herself was a young woman — but so was Zhan Luori, wasn’t she?

Why was Zhan Luori allowed to look, but not her?

“That question, you’d need to ask the Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Zhan Luori was in a particularly good mood today — not only had she found this girl wonderfully entertaining, but even the Ninth Imperial Uncle himself seemed particularly amusing today. As for exactly what was so amusing, she couldn’t quite put into words.

Feng Jiu’er huffed under her breath, clearly unconvinced. But the one forbidding her to look was the Ninth Imperial Uncle, and at the moment she still didn’t dare defy this man who was at once devastatingly handsome and terrifyingly formidable.

Down below, Xing Zichuan’s garment was removed. As expected, his back bore several wounds.

He openly displayed his injuries before Zhan Qingcheng and everyone present. Although the atmosphere had lifted into something rather light and amused a moment ago because of Feng Jiu’er, this was, after all, an interrogation of assassins.

And so the mood quickly returned to one of grave solemnity — cold and severe.

Xing Zichuan’s garment was done. Next came Shan Yidao, and likewise, his back bore numerous wounds — old ones and new ones alike, several deep marks running across it.

Yu Jingfeng wasn’t sure what the Ninth Prince intended. He only watched, but from beginning to end, he had not uttered a single word.

After Shan Yidao’s wounds had been displayed, the next came — another student, the same; wounds across his back.

Then the next, and so on, until there were barely any left.

Yu Jingfeng ordered them one by one to remove their garments and present themselves before His Highness — yet His Highness continued to press his lips together in silence, saying not a word.

In the end, after everyone had redressed, he still gave no indication of anything.

Even Fang Zheng was growing a little anxious. “Your Highness, as for them—”

Zhan Qingcheng suddenly raised a hand, and Yu Jingfeng immediately announced, “His Highness has bestowed his exceptional grace and bids you all return to rest. Tonight, you need not remain in the Martial Training Tower.”

Those gathered below heard this and, one after another, visibly relaxed, their faces breaking into smiles. They answered in unison, “We thank Your Highness.”

And so, after redressing, they departed from the main hall of the Martial Training Tower one by one.

Mu Mu turned back and looked at Feng Jiu’er. She mouthed a few silent words to him. Mu Mu hesitated a moment, then nodded, and turned to leave.

That head of white hair, that cold and rigid retreating figure — it still left a trace of heartache in the depths of Feng Jiu’er’s eyes.

Yet Zhan Luori seemed to take particular interest in Mu Mu. Once he had gone, she said, “Fang Zheng, that white-haired man just now — is he Mu Mu of the Fourth Dragon Army?”

“Indeed he is.” Fang Zheng didn’t know why she had brought up Mu Mu, but his heart was already heavy with unease. The assassination had taken place at the Longwu Academy, and the assassin had yet to be found — he bore no small part of the blame.

Zhan Luori glanced once more in the direction everyone had left, a look of complexity in her eyes — something that almost resembled anticipation.

“This Mu Mu — I must find a proper opportunity to learn from him someday.”

That was not admiration — Feng Jiu’er could see it clearly. What it was, unmistakably, was the look of someone utterly consumed by the martial path.

To think that this Seventh Princess, who seemed outwardly indifferent to everything, was in fact so deeply passionate about martial arts.

But Feng Jiu’er had no attention to spare for that right now. Seeing that there were still quite a few people in the hall, she raised her eyes and glanced at Zhan Qingcheng.

But with so many people still present, whatever she had to say was not convenient to speak aloud just yet. After everyone had departed, Yu Jingfeng stepped forward and asked, “Your Highness, have you made any discoveries?”