The clouded look in Tuoba Keyan’s eyes gradually began to clear, just slightly. Though waves of agonizing pain still wracked his entire body, Feng Jiu’er’s figure had returned to his sight.

A flicker of joy rose in Jiu’er’s heart, and she was about to continue persuading him when, suddenly—a loud thud—something struck Tuoba Keyan on the head.

The blow landed with such force that Tuoba Keyan’s eyes snapped shut, and he collapsed into unconsciousness on the spot.

“Yan!” Feng Jiu’er startled, caught him as he fell, and carefully helped him onto the bed.

Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, his whole body rigid. When she checked his pulse, his breathing was already faint and weak.

Yanu, still holding the shattered remains of a vase, seemed to realize he’d made a grave error. After a long moment of stunned stillness, he immediately dashed out and returned with a basin of hot water.

That night, Feng Jiu’er remained in Tuoba Keyan’s room for a long while. Not until the middle of the night, when Aunt Xue came rushing in, did Feng Jiu’er finally withdraw the silver needles from Tuoba Keyan’s body.

“Aunt Xue, I’m sorry. Yan, he…”

“How is he?” Aunt Xue looked at Tuoba Keyan lying pale on the bed, her heart aching with worry.

“He was struck a heavy blow while his poison was flaring. His true qi reversed on itself, injuring his heart meridian, and…” Feng Jiu’er let out a breath, saying helplessly, “His martial arts have been crippled.”

Aunt Xue stumbled back two steps, her face filled with disbelief.

Yan’s martial arts—that entire set of skills—had very likely been taught to him by Long Feiyan! And now… now his skill was utterly destroyed!

“Why did this happen?” Aunt Xue still couldn’t quite believe it. Had what Long Feiyan left behind in this world grown even smaller in number now?

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I failed to take proper care of him.” Feng Jiu’er clenched her palm, her heart still twisting with regret. She had been so preoccupied with Tuoba Keyan’s troubles that she hadn’t had room in her thoughts for anything else.

But now that his condition had stabilized, her own thoughts had begun to stir restlessly once more.

Seeing the deep furrow between her brows, Aunt Xue knew she wasn’t faring well herself. Besides, how could she ever doubt Jiu’er? If there had been any way to avoid it, Jiu’er would never have wished to harm Yan.

She came over and took hold of Feng Jiu’er’s hand—and sure enough, it was icy cold. “Jiu’er…”

“I’m fine. But, Aunt Xue, you should stay here and watch over him. I… I want to go back to my room and rest a while.”

“I’ll come with you.” It was the night of the full moon, and Feng Jiu’er’s own gu poison hadn’t yet subsided—if she too lost control…

“No need. Aunt Xue, I don’t need company. You need to watch over him—if he wakes in the night with any symptoms, send for me at once.”

Feng Jiu’er felt she could barely hold herself together. Though she kept her expression composed in front of Aunt Xue, the heavy, oppressive feeling in her chest grew thicker by the moment, as if something were lodged there, demanding release.

If she stayed any longer, she feared she might end up hurting someone innocent.

“Aunt Xue, I’ll head back now. Please look after him well.”

Aunt Xue wanted to chase after her, but Feng Jiu’er had already hurried off the moment she stepped out the door.

The moon hung bright, the stars sparse—tonight’s moonlight was especially clear, and it was precisely that pale, silvery light that deepened the oppressive feeling weighing on Feng Jiu’er’s heart.

She drew her gaze away from the moon and quickened her pace toward the east wing.

Before she even reached her room, she spotted from a distance a figure kneeling outside her door, clearly waiting for her.

“What are you doing kneeling there? Get up.” She walked over and pushed the door open.

But Yanu showed no intention of rising. He remained kneeling by the doorway, head lowered, not even looking at her.

Feng Jiu’er frowned, the oppressive feeling in her chest growing even heavier. She clenched her fist hard, looking down at him with the last of her composure.

“Yanu, I know you only meant to save me. I don’t blame you—there are things you simply don’t know. You… get up. Go rest. I… I have something to deal with tonight. I can’t… talk further with you.”

With a slam, Feng Jiu’er shut the door, and that slender figure vanished from Yanu’s view.

The moment she stepped inside, her footing faltered, and she nearly lost her balance.

She too had taken the medicine tonight, and now was the critical moment when the drug’s potency clashed against the poison in her system. It would be agonizing, but as long as she got through it, a portion of the toxin in her body would surely be cleared.

A few more rounds like this, and perhaps she would be completely cured.

She mustn’t think of it, mustn’t—why, at such a crucial moment, did her thoughts suddenly turn to the Ninth Imperial Uncle?

If only she didn’t think of him, perhaps the pain wouldn’t be so bad! What was she even thinking? Why couldn’t she shake the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s image from her mind?

Ninth Imperial Uncle…

“Ah—” Feng Jiu’er grabbed hold of the bedpost beside her, and with a single burst of force, the post snapped clean in two with a sharp crack!

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…” Had the Ninth Imperial Uncle come? “Ninth Imperial Uncle…”

She lunged forward and threw her arms around him. “Ninth Imperial Uncle, I hurt, I hurt so much…”

Yanu had no idea at first why she was embracing him like this, but hearing her call out that name, he seemed to understand—except, he was mute!

He couldn’t speak, no matter how he wanted to. All he could do was take hold of her arms, not daring to grip too hard, and gently rock her.

But Jiu’er only held him tighter. “Ninth Imperial Uncle, I miss you, I really miss you so much. I want to never leave you again…”

Yanu’s heart ached with a bittersweet pang. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t—he could only watch helplessly as she pressed herself closer into his arms.

Her scorching breath, her faint, clean fragrance, her feverish warmth—it enveloped him bit by bit. He knew he should push her away, yet in this moment, for some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

He had protected her—protected her for so many years now… Jiu’er…

“Ninth Imperial Uncle…” In Feng Jiu’er’s eyes, the Ninth Imperial Uncle stood right before her, gazing at her with deep affection.

Ninth Imperial Uncle, you scoundrel—did he have any idea how much pain she was in right now? Her body ached terribly, her head ached, even her heart ached!

Ninth Imperial Uncle…

Her lips drew closer and closer to his—it felt as though she had never been this close to him in her entire life. Her breath lingered against the tip of his nose; at such a distance, all he had to do was lower his head, and he could claim her completely.

Feng Jiu’er seemed displeased by how tall he stood, pulling at him as if to drag him down to her level.

Being this close to the Ninth Imperial Uncle made her body, even her mind, ache more and more—and yet she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to be near him, from wanting to draw closer still.

Even if it hurt, even if it might kill her, she wanted to die in the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s arms.

The damp warmth of her breath drew nearer and nearer. In Yanu’s vision, all that remained were those eyes before him—those eyes he knew so well, that he had longed for, for so long.

He reached out, cupping Feng Jiu’er’s face in his hands, and at last, unable to resist any longer, leaned down toward her.

Even knowing full well he shouldn’t, even knowing full well she had mistaken him for another man—still, a closeness he had never known before threw his heart into chaos, made him forget everything about himself, made him want only to get closer to her, even just a little more…