A jianghu assassination decree — and someone had actually put out a jianghu assassination decree, seeking Zhan Yuheng’s head.
Had the Ninth Imperial Uncle not personally said that Zhan Luori was one of their own, Feng Jiu’er would absolutely not have spoken of this in front of her.
It wasn’t that she doubted Zhan Luori’s character — it was simply that Zhan Luori was, after all, a child of the imperial family, and inevitably shared some degree of conflicting interests with Zhan Yuheng.
That said, Zhan Luori was a princess. A princess could not contend with the Crown Prince for power, and she had neither an elder brother nor a younger brother of her own — her branch of the family did not share any particularly significant conflict of interest with Zhan Yuheng.
So the possibility of the assassination decree having any connection to Zhan Luori was not great.
“At the foot of Snowy Lotus Mountain, a group of Yinyang Sect members had arrived, and before them, yet another company of people was planning to slip into the imperial city.”
Feng Jiu’er looked at Zhan Qingcheng seated in his chair. She hadn’t expected that she could become accustomed to speaking with her head tilted upward, looking up at him like this.
She couldn’t tell whether her presence before him was simply too meek, or whether his presence simply overwhelmed everyone regardless of who stood before him.
In any case, looking up at him felt, somehow, entirely without awkwardness.
Zhan Luori’s expression seemed to dim a little. She glanced at Zhan Qingcheng, as though wanting to say something, but in the end said nothing at all.
Though Zhan Qingcheng’s expression did not change, Feng Jiu’er felt she had begun to read the subtle shifts in his brow. The situation was grave — even the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s thoughts carried a trace of heaviness.
A moment later, Zhan Qingcheng pressed her back down onto his lap.
Feng Jiu’er was caught off guard and nearly pitched forward face-first into his thigh. “Ninth Imperial Uncle—”
“Tend to them.” Zhan Qingcheng’s low voice fell, then he called outward, “Yu Jingfeng.”
Yu Jingfeng entered at once, stepped before him, and bowed slightly. “Your Highness, what are your orders?”
“A jianghu assassination decree has been issued. The target of this assassination is the Crown Prince. Go inform Zhan Yuheng and tell him to strengthen his own guard. Send word throughout: conduct a thorough investigation into all civilians who have recently entered the city.”
“Yes, Your Highness!” Upon hearing those three words — assassination decree — Yu Jingfeng was momentarily stunned, but quickly recovered himself. He acknowledged the order and turned to leave.
Feng Jiu’er was about to say something when Zhan Qingcheng’s large hand came down upon her head without warning and pushed it firmly back down.
What was this Ninth Imperial Uncle thinking? Everyone else was speaking normally, yet she alone was made to kneel between his two long legs and tend to him like some sort of handmaiden.
Was this not far too undignified a position?
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I have a few matters to attend to — I’ll take my leave first.” Zhan Luori rose to her feet, her expression subdued.
“You have no lodgings here. Going back to the palace at this hour?” Zhan Qingcheng’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he disapproved.
Zhan Luori herself wasn’t sure why she had stayed this evening. Perhaps it was because she had heard about the outdoor barbecue event and, on a whim, lingered — and then simply hadn’t gone back to the palace. Normally, she always returned early.
She pressed her lips together and, after a brief silence, suddenly said, “I hear the Crown Prince and this girl have had some entanglement — quite a few people at the academy know of it.”
This girl? Surely she wasn’t talking about her?
Feng Jiu’er was about to raise her head again, but the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s palm came down once more and pushed her small head back into place.
What did he mean by this? He was bullying her, that’s what this was!
Feng Jiu’er was full of grievances and utterly powerless to act on them. Was the Seventh Princess snitching on her? Right in front of her face?
And yet this Seventh Princess seemed frank and open-natured — she didn’t look like the sort of petty person who stirred up trouble.
“Since you have no lodgings here, let Huo Yan make arrangements for you.”
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, the Seventh Princess belongs to the Fourth Forbidden Army,” Feng Jiu’er muttered under her breath.
If arrangements had to be made, shouldn’t it be Colonel Yan who handled them? Was the Ninth Imperial Uncle going senile?
Not that the man was in the slightest bit old…
No one paid her any attention — no one at all!
Zhan Luori gave Zhan Qingcheng a nod. “Very well. I’ll go now.”
And then she left.
Feng Jiu’er finally had her chance to lift her head. She glared at Zhan Qingcheng and pouted her lips. “Ninth Imperial Uncle, you did that on purpose! Have I made you angry?”
She said it out of spite, not expecting Zhan Qingcheng to actually nod in response. “Mm.”
Feng Jiu’er’s eyes went wide. Surely not — had she actually made the Ninth Imperial Uncle angry?
Her memories of him were somewhat hazy, but she knew with certainty that this man did not enjoy being teased. If he said he was angry, he meant it.
So she had truly made him angry.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, what did I do wrong?”
“Think about it yourself.” His palm descended onto her head again and pushed her back down. “Tend to them.”
And so Feng Jiu’er understood — until she figured it out herself, she would have to keep “tending to him” indefinitely.
Her hands never stopped kneading, and her mind churned at full speed, not daring to stop for a single moment.
What on earth had she done to offend the Ninth Imperial Uncle?
“Ninth Imperial Uncle…”
“Mm?”
“Are you still angry that I went to Snowy Lotus Mountain? But I genuinely want to rely on myself—”
“Tend to them.”
“Oh.” Feng Jiu’er had no choice. She went on kneading, working through one thigh and immediately moving to the other.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, could you give me a hint?” Though she already knew full well the chances of that were essentially zero.
Indeed — he didn’t even dignify the question with a response. From somewhere she couldn’t see, he produced a military strategy book and began leafing through it with perfectly relaxed composure.
Was he truly determined to keep her at this indefinitely?
Desolation flooded Feng Jiu’er’s heart as she wailed inwardly in despair.
She was absolutely not a patient person — and the Ninth Imperial Uncle, surely, was the same. But why was it that in matters like this, she always felt as though the Ninth Imperial Uncle had endless patience, enough to outlast her entirely?
Yet he said nothing at all. She was not a worm in his belly — how was she supposed to know what he was angry about?
Feng Jiu’er thought, and thought, and kept on thinking — and could not figure it out no matter how long she tried.
Everything had been fine before this evening — or rather, hadn’t things been all right during the day? Could he be angry that she had fallen asleep in his carriage?
But word was that it was the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s own carriage that had personally seen her returned to her quarters. He couldn’t have been angry at that point, could he?
Then what was he angry about?
Could it be… “Ninth Imperial Uncle, is it because when you called for me just now, I didn’t respond right away?”
At Feng Jiu’er’s words, the hand flipping through the book paused — just barely, and then, as though unconcerned, he turned the page and continued reading.
But that barely-there pause had still been caught by Feng Jiu’er. The Ninth Imperial Uncle was actually bothered by something so small? Since when had he become this petty?
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I was lost in thought at the time — it wasn’t intentional.”
Feng Jiu’er kept both hands working at his thigh, kneading away with earnest effort. “Ninth Imperial Uncle, it won’t happen again — all right?”
He said nothing. Feng Jiu’er squeezed out a small smile. “Ninth Imperial Uncle, I—”
Without warning, his long fingers came down and closed around her chin. The strength coiling through those five fingers was every bit as terrifying as the look in his eyes.
“From now on — you are not to stare vacantly at other men.”