First thing in the morning, everyone could plainly see that Feng Jiu’er’s mood was not particularly good. Her face was, to put it plainly, like a storm cloud.

Not that she’d had a bad night’s sleep — quite the contrary. She wasn’t sure if she’d simply grown accustomed to being put-upon, but she’d actually slept quite well on the chaise.

The thing was, that didn’t mean she could just be walked all over without consequence.

Mu Mu, for his part, was in excellent spirits this morning — a man who had very clearly gotten everything he wanted. Anyone who didn’t know better would have assumed something had actually happened between him and Jiu’er the night before.

There had been no time for breakfast yet after everyone roused themselves, and in order to reach the next inn by nightfall, the column had already set out.

Yanu brought over some pastries with his own two hands. Mu Mu and Feng Jiu’er were seated inside the carriage together.

“Leave my portion here — I don’t want to eat with this fellow. Tell him to get out.” Feng Jiu’er gave a disgruntled huff.

Yanu looked at Mu Mu with a slightly awkward expression.

Mu Mu laughed. “Fine, I’ll step out. The young lady is probably just feeling shy around me.”

“Get out!” Feng Jiu’er shot a foot in his direction.

Mu Mu let her hit and scold as she pleased, the smile at the corner of his lips never fading.

Once Mu Mu had climbed out of the carriage and swung up onto a horse to ride at the rear, Yanu looked at Feng Jiu’er and opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something.

In the end, he simply placed the pastries on the small table in front of her and said nothing.

Their group had three carriages in total — one for Feng Jiu’er, the other two for cargo.

Jiu’er looked at him and pressed her lips together. “There’s nothing going on between him and me — don’t let your imagination run away with you. He’s only staying with me in order to protect me.”

Yanu gave a nod and arranged the food for her.

He was always this quiet — not a single word more than necessary, never asking about things that weren’t his place to ask.

Jiu’er gently tugged at his sleeve. “Eat with me.”

Yanu nodded. He was well accustomed to sharing meals with her by now, and none of his former reticence remained — sometimes he would even smile at her.

The group moved along the road at a good pace. Today they were still on the main road, which made for even faster traveling.

Before long, Feng Jiu’er found herself noticing that formidable figure once again.

He carried himself with an aura of cold severity, yet somehow kept his presence unnervingly understated — as though he could simply make himself invisible.

This person was truly remarkable — not only did Feng Jiu’er sense it, but Xue Gu and Qiao Mu had both taken notice of him as well.

For someone to be able to control their own aura so completely and at will — his internal strength was without question profound. Even Xue Gu privately suspected she might not actually be his match.

Still, he was someone Mu Mu had brought — he ought to be trustworthy.

Having someone like that in the column was, if nothing else, reassuring.

But the man truly was strange — he hadn’t said a single word all morning, showed no particular deference toward Mu Mu either, made no effort to communicate with anyone else, and was completely, entirely his own person.

His face was dark-skinned and deeply scarred. He was not what anyone would call handsome. He always wore a loose, plain servant’s garment that gave away nothing of his actual build.

Put him in a crowd with his aura pulled in, and he was the sort of person who would pass completely unnoticed.

And yet — this was precisely the person Xue Gu, Qiao Mu, and Feng Jiu’er all found themselves watching.

Jiu’er in particular would sometimes lean halfway out of the carriage window to stare back at him.

Because he was so cold. So strikingly cool. So utterly mysterious.

When the group rested at midday, the black-robed man sat alone in a corner — apart from everyone else, not joining the group, coldly indifferent, as though he had no interest in acknowledging a single soul.

He had brought his own dried provisions and a water canteen. He had no need to sit with anyone.

“Mu Mu — is he really your man? It seems like he won’t give even you the time of day.” Qiao Mu looked openly curious.

He might not be much to look at, and his temperament was clearly difficult — yet somehow, without meaning to, her gaze kept being pulled toward him.

Xue Gu and Tuoba Keyan were also watching Mu Mu. He had brought this person along — but the man’s manner was genuinely too solitary. He fit in with no one. What if, in a dangerous moment, he simply left on his own?

“He came with me, but he’s not my man — just a friend from the jianghu who does work for money. An eccentric sort.”

Mu Mu said nothing further. He tore into a roasted chicken and passed the drumstick to Jiu’er.

Jiu’er took the entire roasted chicken for herself, then suddenly stood and headed toward the black-robed man.

The chicken had been brought from the inn — there was plenty more for everyone else.

When the man saw Jiu’er approaching, he seemed on the verge of getting up to move away.

Jiu’er called out from a distance. “We’re all traveling the same road together. You can dodge me for a moment, but not forever. Sit where you are.”

The man hesitated, then ultimately remained seated in place — though he didn’t look at her.

Feng Jiu’er reached his side and sat down casually, holding the drumstick out toward him.

“I know that formidable people always have their own way about them — but a drumstick is still better than dried provisions, wouldn’t you say?”

The black-robed man said nothing. Feng Jiu’er extended the drumstick a little further toward him.

“Would you try not to be so antisocial? This road to the Feng Clan is extremely long. If everyone talks and laughs along the way, at least it won’t be so dull — don’t you think?”

The black-robed man still said nothing and went on gnawing at his dried provisions.

Feng Jiu’er stretched out her legs and settled in for the long haul. She held out the drumstick again.

“Friend — just take it for a moment, won’t you? My arm is getting tired from holding it out.”

The black-robed man seemed to have no intention of acknowledging her — but he noticed that the hand holding the drumstick out to him had, at some point, begun to tremble ever so slightly, as though it truly had been held out too long.

His fingers tightened fractionally. Then, at last, he reached out and took it — and took a few casual bites.

Jiu’er had actually been studying his face the whole time, trying to see whether it might be a disguise. But the cold severity that emanated from him was heavy indeed — she wasn’t sure whether it was deliberate intimidation or simply his nature.

In any case, you couldn’t stare at him for too long. After a certain point, the eyes that met his left her head spinning slightly.

It seemed he didn’t like being looked at directly — the pressure of his internal energy made it impossible to keep her gaze trained on him, and she had no choice but to look away and stop trying to read him.

She wasn’t even sure what had come over her — why had she ever suspected this person might be the Ninth Imperial Uncle?

If the Ninth Imperial Uncle had come along, wouldn’t he truly be handing his kingdom over to Emperor Qiwen?

If it came to light that the Ninth Prince had left Bei Mu, those factions would surely descend on Phoenix City in force — and that battle would offer the Ninth Prince’s Longwu Army nothing but losses.

Mu Mu was the Young Palace Master of Yemingong. Having friends this formidable was hardly surprising.

Besides — the man’s face was disfigured. For someone who had lost their looks, the thing they likely disliked most was others staring at them.

She had been a little inconsiderate earlier — so when she saw that he had been willing to accept the drumstick she’d offered, she finally felt at ease.

She couldn’t explain why, but even though he was so cold — somehow she was inexplicably drawn to him. The urge to be near him just seemed to rise on its own.

A strange feeling. Just instinctive. Pulled toward this black-robed man without knowing why.

She tore off a piece of the chicken for herself as well and took a couple of bites, then asked, mouth still half-full: “Hero — what is your name?”