The Ninth Imperial Uncle left at the first light of dawn. Having been away for a full month, there was doubtless a mountain of affairs waiting for him back at the Prince’s manor.

As he was leaving — still not entirely done being cross — he tossed out a few lofty words with all the pouting dignity he could muster: “Last night, this Prince had no intention of seeking you out. It was you who pulled this Prince into your bedchamber, and you who made this Prince remove his clothing.”

And then he was gone, his parting words implying, quite plainly, that she had been the one to stir up trouble.

Well. It was true that last night she had been the one to bring him back to her room, the one who had asked him to undress — but had that not been entirely for the sake of tending to his injuries?

Every time the Ninth Imperial Uncle came near her, he ended up wounded for it. The very reason she kept trying to push him away was because she understood this perfectly well. Even those around him knew it — that being with her brought the Ninth Imperial Uncle nothing but misfortune — which was why they had gone to such lengths trying to keep the two of them apart. They had even been willing to destroy her utterly, if it came to that.

What everyone else could see so clearly — was the Ninth Imperial Uncle himself truly unaware?

He knew it was not worth it, and yet he came regardless. Should she be grateful for his deep devotion? Or should she, for his sake, be the one to keep him at a distance?

Feng Jiu’er’s heart was a tangle of contradictions. But then — who, she asked herself, could bear to give up someone as magnificent and captivating as the Ninth Imperial Uncle?

She wanted him. She wanted him very, very much. But could he perhaps stop arriving at her side bearing a fresh collection of wounds every single time? It made her feel wretched with guilt, with aching tenderness. Did he not know that?

That entire day, Feng Jiu’er moved through the hours in a kind of daze. Every quiet moment brought her thoughts drifting back to the Ninth Imperial Uncle and all those injuries.

To keep herself from spiraling, she kept herself relentlessly occupied: seeing patients, gathering herbs, refining medicines — not allowing herself to stop for even a breath.

By evening, she collapsed into the bathing tub, utterly spent.

She had shed the male disguise she wore, hanging it over the nearby folding screen. The warm bath water enveloped her completely, and the exhaustion that had settled into her very bones began, at last, to slowly ebb away.

She found herself reflecting on everything that had befallen her in the past half year. The very first day she had awoken in this world, the first person she had encountered was the Ninth Imperial Uncle.

At that time, the Ninth Imperial Uncle had not only been afflicted with a peculiar poison, but had been drugged as well — wild and aggressive beyond reason. On the very first day of their meeting, he had nearly undone her entirely. Had she not been sharp enough to seal his pressure points in time, she shuddered to think what might have followed.

With the drug having seized complete control of him, even now the memory could raise a cold sweat. If she had not stopped him in time, she would have already… ahem, been ravaged by him.

It seemed what the books said was true — a man’s instinct in such matters was entirely innate, and that was no exaggeration. Even without a shred of experience, when he was out of his senses, he still knew exactly what he wanted to do.

And yet when his mind was lucid, he apparently required consulting a certain illustrated palace manual before having the faintest idea how to proceed.

Recalling how she had drowsily, half-consciously agreed to something that day — causing him to believe she had consented to that sort of thing between them — and the sight of him, overcome with impulsive ardor, lunging to embrace her: Feng Jiu’er still could not quite name what she felt.

A little bit ridiculous, certainly, but also… well. Her body temperature was climbing rather noticeably. Good heavens, it was warm. She really needed to stop.

She shot upright from the bath water, the skin of her lower back burning hot as though lit from within, her cheeks flushed pink.

Truly — letting her thoughts wander to a man until she was nearly delirious. Was it proper to have such a weakness?

But wait — why did her lower back feel so hot? It seemed to be where the Phoenix Mark was.

Feng Jiu’er draped a bathing cloth loosely over herself and went inside the room. She retrieved a crystal mirror someone had made to her specifications and angled it toward her lower back.

Tonight the Phoenix Mark was showing itself with unusual clarity — though it still seemed somehow not quite visible enough.

Frowning, she studied it more carefully, and suddenly felt a strange sense that something was off about this Phoenix Mark. It looked almost like… how could it not quite resemble a phoenix?

She paused in thought, then abruptly pressed her palm tight and drove her vital energy toward her lower back.

Her lower back blazed with scorching heat — even more uncomfortable than before — but as her energy circulated, the Phoenix Mark grew sharper and clearer.

As she stared at it, she became increasingly certain: it was not a phoenix. Why did it look more and more like some entirely different image? It was as if it were…

All at once, Feng Jiu’er let the mirror drop. She reached out in one sweeping motion and snatched the robes from the bed across the room into her hand, pulling them on in a single sweep.

Mu Mu had just reached the door and was about to push it open when the voice inside rang out in urgent alarm. “Do not come in!”

A moment later, fully dressed, Feng Jiu’er pulled the door open herself. “Do you not know that a young lady’s private chamber is not to be barged into?”

“I assumed,” Mu Mu said, rubbing his nose, “that you had long since ceased to be a young lady.” It wasn’t as if he had done it on purpose. Did she really think he had any desire to spy on her changing?

Though, he reflected, if she were willing to change in front of him, he would not exactly object.

“When did you return?” He had left claiming urgent business, and Feng Jiu’er had naturally not thought to ask what it was. She had assumed he would be gone for several days — it had not occurred to her he would be back within two.

“When I came back just now, I went to look in on Feng Yinan first.” Only after confirming that Feng Yinan’s condition had not changed had he come over.

Feng Jiu’er felt some genuine gratitude toward him for that. He had taken it upon himself to watch over Feng Yinan’s affairs as though they were his own responsibility — and that, however one looked at it, was a kindness to everyone involved.

Yinan’s situation had never been any of his concern to begin with.

“I went to see him at dusk.”

“Still no certainty as to when he might wake?”

Feng Jiu’er shook her head. “Not yet.”

Perhaps, for the time being, remaining asleep was actually better for Feng Yinan. Sleep would allow his body to slowly recover. If he were to wake and discover that he could neither move his limbs nor speak, the shock might prove too great for his current constitution to bear.

“Mu Mu, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

“Should you not let me come inside first?” He was standing blocked in the doorway with no invitation to enter — did she really take him for some kind of thief?

“Let’s talk outside.” This was where she had just bathed and changed, after all. The room still held a lingering mist of warmth, and the atmosphere felt just the slightest bit… ambiguous.

After Feng Jiu’er called several servants to clear away the bath things, she and Mu Mu walked toward the rear courtyard pavilion.

Mu Mu, however, said: “Come with me.”

Without another word, he closed his hand around her wrist and, asking nothing at all, pulled her along in one fluid leap — up over the rooftops and through the treetops.

She had no chance to ask where they were going. Mu Mu moved so swiftly that in the blink of an eye the two of them had already left the Hall of Heavenly Mechanisms behind.

The wind roared past her ears. At first it was rather sharp and strident; gradually, though, it shifted into something utterly, inexplicably exhilarating.

It had been a long time since the wind had swept through her hair like this, wild and unbounded. She did not have to move at all — Mu Mu carried her forward entirely, and she simply faced into the rush of air, as free as if she were riding through the open roads in a fine carriage.

She was not sure how long it took. The wind ceased, and the two of them came to a stop. Feng Jiu’er opened her eyes and looked ahead — and a flash of delighted surprise swept through them.

“The Imperial Academy?”

Heavens — he had actually brought her back to the Imperial Academy.

It was not so very far from the Hall of Heavenly Mechanisms, but this was the first time Jiu’er had come here since returning to the imperial capital.