“Your Highness…”

Feng Jiu still wanted to say something, but was cut off by Zhan Qingcheng’s domineering voice: “This King is hungry.”

Hungry?

Now that she thought about it, Feng Jiu realized she was a little hungry too. They had just woken up — wasn’t it time for breakfast?

But did the Ninth Prince mean he wanted to eat breakfast here?

“But, Your Highness, why don’t you go back to the manor first? The manor should have anything delicious you could want.”

Feng Jiu had tasted the cooking of the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s manor chef before — the man really was skilled, able to make anything, and make it delicious.

Whereas here, everything was the most basic. First, she wasn’t someone who indulged in comfort — well, not for the past six months anyway. Second, everyone here had been in a period of hard work lately, with no mind to spare for enjoying anything.

Zhan Qingcheng merely glanced at her flatly. Seeing that she wanted to chase him off again, he lost interest and was about to lie back down on the bed.

“Your Highness!” Feng Jiu was nearly frantic. If the Ninth Prince lay back down like that, there was no telling how long he’d stay — he might not be willing to leave for the whole day.

People came looking for her here from time to time, and she didn’t want anyone — including the people of the Hall of Heavenly Secrets — to know that the Ninth Prince had spent the night in her bedroom.

“Fine, Your Highness, I’ll help you get up, and prepare breakfast for you. But you have to agree to one condition.”

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing. Feng Jiu sighed helplessly. “After you finish breakfast, you’ll leave. Is that all right?”

He still said nothing, clearly disliking the feeling of being chased away.

Feng Jiu really felt a headache coming on. She rubbed her temples, her expression earnest and almost solemn. “Your Highness, I’ve arranged today to meet Steward Long Yan of the Number One Estate Under Heaven, to go examine Estate Master Lanyue. The time is getting late — Long Yan might arrive any moment. I… don’t want to be someone who breaks their word.”

“Since that’s the case, why haven’t you attended to this King getting up yet?” It was rare indeed — the Ninth Prince was willing to speak a complete sentence again.

Perhaps because he’d slept comfortably last night, the Ninth Prince who woke up this morning seemed just a little easier to get along with than the one from last night.

Although — still just as overbearing, still just as unyielding…

Feng Jiu rubbed her brow again, utterly unable to understand how the relationship between the two of them had suddenly become like this — as if they were already very familiar, very intimate.

But hadn’t he already seen her body last night, and believed in her “male body”? If so, why was he still clinging to her the way he used to cling to Feng Jiu’er?

Feng Jiu really had no time now to guess at all the reasons. Probably it was because her silhouette resembled Feng Jiu’er’s a little, and so the Ninth Imperial Uncle wanted to find some comfort in her.

To be so deeply infatuated, to this extent — it was truly… heartbreaking to watch.

“Your Highness, I’ll go have someone prepare breakfast. Please don’t go wandering off on your own. Wait just a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Just as she was about to leave, Feng Jiu couldn’t help adding: “Your Highness, you may not care about gossip, but I do — especially since I run a business here. If word got out about some… improper personal inclination, it would affect my livelihood. Please have some consideration.”

He still said nothing, his indifferent manner infuriating yet impossible to do anything about.

Feng Jiu left the room and quickly returned carrying a basin of warm water.

Although they were the proprietors of the Hall of Heavenly Secrets, they were all used to taking care of themselves — they weren’t some born nobles who had servants waiting on them from birth.

Besides, doing things herself was simple and easy; why bother dragging in some unrelated person to fuss over it?

But for the Ninth Prince, who had been destined from birth to be waited on, accepting such service was something he was thoroughly used to.

So when he saw Feng Jiu bring in the warm water, he merely swept her with an indifferent glance, then picked up the medical text she’d left on the bedside table and continued studying it.

He sat on the bed without stirring at all — such an obvious signal, telling her again and again that he needed her attendance.

Feng Jiu was actually quite used to attending to the Ninth Prince — but right now, she was Feng Jiu, not Feng Jiu’er…

Watching the sky gradually brighten, with truly little time left, Feng Jiu could only grit her teeth, bring the water cup over, and help him wash up.

The Ninth Prince was fairly cooperative — whatever she gave him, he accepted, even the simple breakfast, which he seemed to eat with quite some pleasure.

Once he’d eaten and drunk his fill, Feng Jiu stared at his exquisite profile and said, “Your Highness, you… forgive me, I’m not trying to chase you away, it’s just… you really should be leaving now.”

Zhan Qingcheng’s gaze turned toward her, cold as ice.

Feng Jiu exhaled and forced herself to continue. “Your Highness, you promised.”

“When did this King ever promise anything?”

“Your Highness?” Surely not — hadn’t he just agreed that he’d leave after breakfast?

No, wait — actually, he really hadn’t agreed to anything. It had all been her talking to herself; he had never once nodded his head.

Oh no — was he choosing this exact moment to be petty with her?

“Your Highness, I really did make an appointment with someone. You… can’t make me break my word.”

Feng Jiu was nearly in tears. Why was this man so impossible to reason with!

He’d slept, he’d eaten — what more did he want?

He suddenly stood and stepped toward her.

Feng Jiu, startled, scrambled to her feet and backed away step by step. “Your Highness, I truly have no interest in men. Your Highness, please don’t act recklessly.”

Zhan Qingcheng’s footsteps halted, his gaze falling to her flat chest.

Feng Jiu wasn’t afraid at all — she boldly displayed her chest.

Did he still not believe she was a man? Did she need to strip again to prove it to him?

Though, now that it was daytime, the light was far better than last night’s — who knew whether he might spot some flaw.

The actual flaw was on her arm, at the elbow. If she only opened her collar to show her chest, he shouldn’t be able to tell.

Still, being too eager to let the Ninth Imperial Uncle look at her “chest” felt a bit too conspicuous — like protesting one’s innocence too loudly. So Feng Jiu feigned some annoyance and turned aside to dodge his brazen gaze.

Even between two men, staring straight at someone’s chest like that was terribly rude.

“Your Highness, what exactly do you want? I haven’t committed any crime, have I? Are you trying to ruin my future?”

She’d already promised the people of the Number One Estate Under Heaven — how could she go back on her word? For a businessperson, trustworthiness was everything.

Zhan Qingcheng said nothing, continuing to walk toward her.

Feng Jiu’s breathing grew slightly unsteady, but at a time like this she could only force herself to appear calm.

Worst case, she’d let him tear her clothes, and let him see her flat “chest” again.

It was just that, having her clothes torn so casually — even though the chest was fake — it still felt as if the Ninth Prince were tearing open her clothes to look at her body, leaving her more than a little embarrassed.

What she feared most was that this man wouldn’t just look, but would also reach out and touch — and if he actually did that, the fake chest binding would surely be exposed!