She felt somewhat helpless. Though her martial arts had been advancing rapidly, before the Ninth Imperial Uncle and Mu Mu she was still hopelessly outmatched.

Since she was outmatched, what was the point of fighting back? If Mu Mu truly meant to harm her, no resistance would spare her from injury. And if he had no such intent, then resistance was meaningless either way.

The candles in the room had not been lit, but for two supreme masters, the moonlight filtering in through the window was more than sufficient to see each other’s faces clearly — and even the expressions upon them.

Silence. A terrifying silence.

After a moment that seemed to stretch endlessly, a low, deep male voice finally broke it: “Jiu’er.”

She said nothing. She walked to one side and lit the candle.

That cascade of dark hair swept into view the moment she turned back.

For one brief instant, his eyes nearly filled with tears.

A head full of white hair — how many hardships did those strands recount? It had ultimately been his own fault. Had it not been to save her, he would never have acquired that head of frost.

“They are all looking for you.” It felt truly good to recover the use of her own voice — no longer needing to suppress it, no longer treading carefully. Just speaking freely, whenever the words came, without processing or disguising her voice.

She now realized that after suppressing it for so long, the sudden freedom of using her own voice again could, in a single instant, bring a lightness so overwhelming it made one want to weep.

Mu Mu stepped forward, wanting dearly to hold her gently in his arms, yet her unhurried voice made him pause.

It was not that he felt she had grown distant from him. Rather, the tranquility and serenity of this moment was something he could not bring himself to shatter.

In the end, he walked to the chair and sat down, looking at her: “Then let them search.”

“You never used to be this willful.” Feng Jiu walked over as well and weighed the teapot in her hand. There was still a little tea left inside, but she had been gone for so long — it had long since gone cold and could not be drunk.

“Wait for me just a moment. I will be right back.”

“I will not wait.” Mu Mu rose at once, fixing his gaze on her profile: “I can go without water.”

But he could not wait any longer. He feared that if he waited, the result would be another six months of frantic searching.

Feng Jiu studied him. Something flickered across his eyes — the barest trace of panic, almost imperceptible. Yet she had seen it. She had caught that unease.

Was he afraid she might suddenly leave again? Vanish without warning?

Mu Mu’s feelings for her — how could she not know? It was simply that half a year had passed. Why had they not faded in the slightest? If anything, they had grown even more intense.

“I am not leaving. I am only going to brew you a cup of tea.” She picked up the teapot and made to go.

Mu Mu followed after her anyway. Feng Jiu felt genuinely helpless: “I give you my word! I swear on my character!”

“Do you still have any character left?”

“…” What? This — was this not the Mu Mu of old making his return? No, actually — the Mu Mu after the memory loss was even more willful than he had been before.

Feng Jiu sighed softly. “I still have… a little. Wait here just a moment, will you? It is the middle of the night — I do not want to disturb the people in the courtyard.”

Seeing that he still refused to sit down, she smiled and used the tone one would use with a child: “Just a little while. I will bring you something delicious when I come back.”

He still said nothing, though the look in his eyes as he watched her steadied, just a fraction, with something closer to ease.

She sighed inwardly. Why did she increasingly feel that this person and the Ninth Imperial Uncle had exactly the same temperament? They truly were brothers, no question about it.

No — even before the memory loss, half a year ago, she had already thought his temperament bore an uncanny resemblance to the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s.

Either way, they were both grown men who had never quite grown up.

Feng Jiu took the teapot and went out. This time she was gone a little longer than expected. Just as Mu Mu was about to lose his patience and go after her, the sound of her footsteps returned.

“Were you standing here the whole time without sitting, or had you just gotten up to come after me?”

“Standing the whole time.” Mu Mu answered without concealing anything. Not because he was looking for sympathy — he was simply telling the truth.

Both brothers, utterly hopeless in the same way, cast from the same mold.

“Come sit.” Feng Jiu set the small teapot down on the low table and placed beside it a small food box, from which she took out several pastries.

This courtyard had no shortage of women, and they all had a fondness for snacks and sweets, so the cooks always kept a generous supply. These had been steamed and were set aside to be sent to the various courtyards in the morning — and speaking of which, it was already nearly dawn.

Mu Mu ate without the slightest ceremony. From the look of him, he genuinely appeared to have gone without food for a very long time.

“When did you arrive last night?” Feng Jiu refilled his cup and watched him with the particular tenderness one might feel watching over a child — pure and uncomplicated concern.

“I do not know.” He truly did not. Perhaps because the waiting had stretched on so long that he had lost track of time entirely.

Feng Jiu let the question rest. Matters seemed to have been piling up lately, with no end of things to attend to each and every day.

It was as though things had grown so much busier ever since the Ninth Imperial Uncle had returned…

Not long after, the dishes on the table had been nearly swept clean.

Jiu’er refilled Mu Mu’s teacup once more. He drained it in a single swallow, then after a pause said: “This past half year, he has been looking for you everywhere. The searching has been nothing short of frantic.”

She nearly let the words slip out — and what about you? — for Mu Mu’s complexion, in all honesty, was anything but good.

It was the same as it had been on the first night the Ninth Imperial Uncle had come here to find her: a haggard pallor traced with points of exhaustion, like a man who had not truly slept in a very long time.

After the Ninth Imperial Uncle had rested that night, his color had improved considerably by the next morning. So then he…

But now, it was probably less than an hour until dawn.

“Say no more. Either go back and rest properly, or rest here a while — I will wake you before daybreak so you can leave.”

“I am not sleeping.” If he slept, he would not be able to see her.

Even if this face was not Jiu’er’s, the person before him was undeniably her. Looking at a face that did not belong to her, yet feeling her presence — this, too, was enough.

“You look as though you are about to fall asleep.” Feng Jiu tried to reason with him.

“I am not sleeping.”

Mu Mu was simply that stubborn. Though his eyelids had genuinely grown heavy, he had no idea why it was — only that being near her, he had become aware of his exhaustion and drowsiness for the first time.

But he simply could not bear to waste his time sleeping.

“Very well. Lie down on the chaise. We can talk.”

Feng Jiu tidied the few things on the low table and gestured toward the chaise a short distance away.

This time Mu Mu did not refuse. He walked over and lay down at once.

The moment he reclined, a deep and heavy drowsiness swept over him, vast as a tide. He finally closed his eyes — yet those slightly cool, thin lips refused to yield: “I am just closing my eyes. I am not sleeping.”

“…” Why did this have every feeling of a child saying something out of petulance?

Out in the world, they were composed and unflinching — war gods and iron-blooded generals whose names alone made enemies tremble with fear.

Here with her, they turned into utter children.

Jiu’er placed a small amount of powdered medicine on the incense burner. The smoke curled up in gentle wisps, and even she found herself beginning to feel the faintest thread of drowsiness.