Fearing that Feng Jiu still harbored doubts, Long Yan added, “Physician, this time I stake my own head on my word—what happened today will never happen again.”
Unexpectedly, the man who had followed silently behind Feng Jiu this whole time, never once speaking, suddenly asked coldly, “What happened?”
Long Yan startled—this was already the umpteenth time he had glanced again at the hooded man.
There was something strange about this man’s presence. At times he felt as though the man carried no martial aura at all; at other times, he could clearly sense an overwhelming, innate dominance, and a level of martial skill that seemed utterly unfathomable.
Long Yan had no idea who this man was, and Feng Jiu had never explained, yet it seemed even Feng Jiu deferred to him without question.
Well—obedient was the word. Though in truth, Feng Jiu and this man had never exchanged a single word, and on the surface there seemed to be no communication between them at all, Long Yan could sense that the two of them understood each other completely with just a single glance.
Ordinarily, the Number One Manor Under Heaven would not allow anyone of unknown origin to enter, but since this was someone Feng Jiu had brought, Long Yan chose not to stop him.
Given the Old Manor Lord’s current state, if he were to stop him now, Long Yan worried something truly unfortunate might happen.
“It’s nothing, just a small misunderstanding with the Manor Lord earlier today.” Feng Jiu turned at once to look back at the Ninth Imperial Uncle. Even through the thin veil of gauze, she felt she could see his eyes.
She forced a small smile, trying to reassure him. “Just a minor misunderstanding, but it’s all been resolved now. There’s no need for the lord to concern himself.”
She did not introduce the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s identity to Long Yan—partly because she disliked deceiving people, and partly because she did not want to invite further complications.
“Steward Long, with your word, I am naturally at ease. Please, lead the way to see the Old Manor Lord at once.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll take you there right away.”
Long Yan, too, feared further trouble. The Old Manor Lord was still in an agitated state, and he worried his body might not be able to bear it much longer.
Bowing slightly, he said respectfully, “Physician, this way, please.”
…Within the Camellia Court, the Old Manor Lord was indeed still causing a great commotion.
Before Feng Jiu had even stepped through the door, she heard the Old Manor Lord’s displeased voice ring out: “Bring Long’er back to me! All of you are trying to harm my Long’er! I won’t let any of you hurt her! Let go, I want to find Long’er!”
“Father, Sister is no longer with us. What you saw today is not Sister, you—”
The one speaking was, naturally, the Manor Lord of the Number One Manor Under Heaven, Mister Lanyue.
But sensing an unfamiliar presence drawing near, Lanyue’s words came to an abrupt halt, his cold gaze sweeping toward the doorway.
Long Yan and Feng Jiu had not even drawn close yet, but they could already clearly feel that bone-chilling aura emanating from within.
Long Yan led Feng Jiu and Zhan Qingcheng forward at a brisk pace.
But the moment they stepped through the door, a sudden burst of icy palm force shot forward in an instant—and it was not aimed at Feng Jiu, but at the man in black behind her.
Zhan Qingcheng’s expression did not change. Just as the palm strike was about to reach him, he extended his long arm, pulling Feng Jiu behind him, and casually swept his sleeve.
A thunderous boom rang out—the threshold at the hall’s entrance shattered, the walls on both sides crumbled into ruin, and dust and splinters of wood scattered everywhere, terrifying the servants attending nearby.
Lanyue’s thick brows knit together, true energy gathering once more beneath his palm as he prepared to strike again.
Behind him, the Old Manor Lord, seizing the moment while the servants stood frozen, broke free of their hold and hurried toward Feng Jiu. “Long’er! Long’er, you’ve come back!”
Zhan Qingcheng’s fingers tightened, and Feng Jiu’s expression changed at once. “Don’t hurt him!”
That domineering man, halted by a single cry from Feng Jiu, truly withdrew every trace of his true energy in an instant.
He merely cast a cold glance at Lanyue before paying him no further attention.
A warrior whose fighting spirit had just been roused, ready to unleash his full strength—and yet, with one word from this little girl, he had been tamed in an instant, as docile as a lamb!
The way these two interacted left not only Long Yan dumbstruck, but even left Lanyue rather taken aback.
As a martial practitioner, nothing interested him more than crossing blows with a true expert, and he could clearly sense that his palm strike a moment ago had stirred the other man’s desire to fight.
Yet a single careless word from Feng Jiu had been enough to make him forcibly suppress that impulse.
This man’s martial skill was utterly unfathomable, and yet, of all people, he listened to Feng Jiu.
How could a mere slip of a girl like Feng Jiu command someone so formidable?
Because his own father had rushed toward her, Lanyue could only dissolve the true energy gathered in his palm, though he remained wholly on guard against the man Feng Jiu had brought.
Especially since this man insisted on wearing a gauze hood, unwilling to reveal his true face—though the noble air about him made it impossible to associate him with a common criminal, such concealment still left an uneasy feeling in anyone’s heart.
But at this moment, Feng Jiu had no time to spare for Lanyue’s feelings—the Old Manor Lord had already reached her and seized her hand.
Seeing Feng Jiu’s hand held in another’s grasp, though it was an elderly man, the chill radiating from Zhan Qingcheng’s body suddenly grew heavier in an instant.
Even without turning around, Feng Jiu could clearly sense the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s hostility toward the Old Manor Lord.
But this was a man past his fifties, an elder, and a patient with some affliction of the mind—couldn’t he show a little tolerance?
Besides, right now she was Feng Jiu, not Feng Jiu’er—what was there for him to be jealous of?
Oh no, she had actually thought the word “jealous.” Had the Ninth Imperial Uncle already recognized her long ago? Not saying anything outright, leaving her in constant doubt, was truly unbearable.
She kicked backward with one foot, secretly warning Zhan Qingcheng not to act recklessly, then turned back to the Old Manor Lord with a gentle smile. “They told me you wouldn’t eat your dinner either. What’s wrong? Did the food not suit your taste?”
Everyone around them froze—Feng Jiu’s brazen kick had left the man behind her perfectly silent, like a docile chicken!
It was simply unbelievable.
The Old Manor Lord looked utterly wronged. “Long’er wasn’t here, didn’t want to eat.”
“Then how about I keep you company for another meal right now?” Feng Jiu actually spoke to the Old Manor Lord as though she truly were “Long’er.” Lanyue’s expression turned grim, yet he had no way to object.
In his heart, his sister’s place was sacred—no one was allowed to defile her identity, especially not some wet-behind-the-ears young girl.
Yet his old father nodded, patting his stomach. “Very hungry. Eat with Long’er, good!”
Seeing this, Long Yan said at once, “Quickly, bring food for the young lady and the old master!”
The two servants hearing this rushed off toward the kitchen without a moment’s delay.
Feng Jiu led the Old Manor Lord by the hand to the table to sit, her fingers casually resting on his wrist pulse, checking it without a word.
Lanyue’s expression remained grim—he still did not wish for an outsider to handle his father’s condition. And yet, this girl’s figure resembled his sister’s so closely…
Before he could finish his hesitation, Feng Jiu had already finished taking the Old Manor Lord’s pulse, her gentle gaze settling on him.
She said softly, “There’s nothing seriously wrong with the Old Manor Lord’s body. He doesn’t need any medicine at all. Whatever those physicians prescribed before, throw it all away.”