The girl rested her arm at his lips.

In his fading vision, her face was of an indescribable and pure beauty, and those eyes of hers grew ever clearer, ever more lovely. All at once he seemed to recall that one night — the night he had been wounded by the Ninth Prince and fled to a certain courtyard. There had also been such a young woman who, when he was gravely injured and on the verge of losing consciousness, applied needles to him and bound his wounds. Those memories felt very far away, yet in an instant seemed to rush back before his eyes. Still he could not make out that young woman’s features clearly — only that all of a sudden, she and the girl before him now overlapped into one.

Jian Yi closed his eyes, then opened them again. Feng Jiu’er’s features came into sharper focus. At his lips, something warm continued to flow in little by little, slipping down his throat. Afterward, his body began to convulse — the pain was tremendous, pain everywhere — yet after the searing agony, the frozen cold of his body began to grow warm.

Feng Jiu’er’s slender finger rested on his pulse point. The pulse was still faint, but clearly somewhat better than moments before. And his face — that face blackened by the poison — had recovered a faint flush of colour. The toxin was being expelled, little by little.

A light shone in her eyes. She lifted her arm once more to her cracked lips, opened her mouth, and bit down hard.

Just now, she had truly believed Jian Yi had no chance of surviving — but at that desperate moment, she had suddenly remembered that her blood had once helped the Ninth Imperial Uncle expel a poison. Her blood carried its own toxin, yet it also held the power to neutralise poison. Whether or not it would truly work, in a moment of complete hopelessness, there was nothing to do but try.

She had not expected it to actually work!

But no sooner had the door of fortune opened than it was blocked by those men in black descending from above. She watched as they came inside cautiously, swords in hand, and the light in Feng Jiu’er’s eyes dimmed entirely. Miracles come only once — now there was none left.

Jian Yi’s fingertips moved. Feng Jiu’er immediately pressed her hand to his chest and said quietly, “If we’re truly fated not to escape this, then let’s face it together — but you have to promise me that on the road to the underworld, don’t think about chopping off my hand anymore.” The two of them were both going to die anyway — what was there still to say about debts? Whatever he owed Feng Qingyin, let it be written off.

Jian Yi moved his lips, but his throat felt as if a huge hand was squeezing it — not even half a word could come out. But he was still struggling, still trying to rise.

The three men had now surveyed their surroundings and confirmed there were truly only the two of them here. They finally made up their minds and advanced rapidly. The one in front flicked his wrist, thrusting his sword straight at Feng Jiu’er where she sat on the ground.

“Jiu—”

“Jiu Qing! Kill them!” Jiu’er suddenly shouted at the top of her voice.

The three men in black were startled and turned hurriedly to look behind them. Feng Jiu’er tightened her grip on the silver needles between her fingertips, preparing to deliver a lethal blow to the man nearest to her. Even knowing she could not handle all three, she would take down one first. She would not sit there waiting to die — that was not her way.

Yet just as she was about to strike, suddenly from outside, a tall silhouette descended from the heavens, landing light as a feather upon the jutting stone. Sword light, beneath the moon’s glow, traced a cold arc of brilliance. The two nearest to him let out cries and, swept by the sword’s energy, tumbled together into the deep abyss. The last man gripped his long sword with a hand that trembled uncontrollably, then suddenly bit down on his resolve and thrust the sword forward. The man who had descended from the sky merely calmly shifted one step to the side and sent a palm out. The man was driven by the force of the blow, and with another howling cry, fell into the cliff.

“You…” Feng Jiu’er looked at the man who now walked slowly to stand before her. He stood with his back to the light — his features were impossible to make out, and the moonlight filtering in from outside cast his silhouette until its shadow entirely enveloped Feng Jiu’er. Yet even without being able to see him clearly, she had long since grown familiar with his presence. At this moment, her nose ached beyond all words.

The joy of surviving a brush with death crashed over her, leaving her light-headed. Her arm was still resting at Jian Yi’s lips, but little blood remained. Looking at the man who had walked to stand before her, she reached out her hand — yet whether from too much excitement or something else, her eyes rolled back and she fainted dead away.

Jiu Qing — he had come. She… could finally live.

…

When Jiu’er woke, she was lying in a comfortable large bed. In her sight, a young man as beautiful as an immortal sat beside her holding a bowl of medicine, looking at her.

“Awake? If you’re awake, drink the medicine first.”

He was far too handsome, and his voice was far too pleasant to hear. Looking at his incomparably beautiful features and listening to that voice that could easily make a young woman’s heart flutter, Jiu’er was in a daze — utterly unable to react.

Truly so dashingly handsome, so beautiful, so striking… How could there be a man this handsome in the world?

Unlike the Ninth Imperial Uncle’s cold and domineering presence, this man’s handsomeness carried a kind of otherworldly calm. Warm and refined as fine jade, his beauty was impossible to stop admiring.

“Feng Jiu’er, you cannot make eyes at him — you… you already have the Ninth Prince and Mu Mu!” Qiao Mu nearby was furiously stamping her feet. She knew it — she just knew it! Feng Jiu’er, that woman with an eye for beauty, once she saw Yanu’s true face, was certain to be struck senseless. Yet she already had so many handsome men around her — could she not spare one for someone else? She did not dare covet the Ninth Prince, but — was thinking about Yanu acceptable?

“Feng Jiu’er, I’m warning you, don’t look at him! Close your eyes quickly!”

Jiu’er really did close her eyes, drew a deep breath, calmed herself, and then opened them again. Her gaze still fell on the man sitting by the bed — and looking at him again, she suddenly widened her eyes sharply and drew a sharp breath.

“You… you’re Yanu?”

Heavens! This was Yanu’s true face? How could it be… How could it… Aiya! Even her face had gone red looking at him!

How could anyone be this handsome?

Though the Ninth Imperial Uncle was beautiful beyond anything heaven or earth had to offer, he was too domineering — most people did not even dare steal more than half a glance at him. And Mu Mu, though his looks could draw the wrath of heaven, was too cold — most people had no way to get close to him at all. But the man before her eyes was gentle, attentive, and had a pair of eyes filled entirely with care — and she even detected from his manner a quality of quiet, willing compliance. A handsome man who listens to you, calm and quiet and sweetly obedient, versus those high and cold, domineering and rough brutes…

Hey hey hey! How could she be silently making comparisons in her heart? If the Ninth Imperial Uncle ever found out she was comparing him to other men, he would flay her alive! Look — this was exactly how domineering, unreasonable, rude and rough the Ninth Imperial Uncle was, nothing at all like Yanu — so obedient and gentle…

Aiya, without realising it she was comparing them again. What was she to do?

“Feng Jiu’er, didn’t you hear me? You already have the Ninth Prince and Mu Mu!” Qiao Mu was nearly going frantic. Why was Jiu’er looking at Yanu with eyes that looked like she wanted to swallow him whole? Too dangerous! She wanted to pull Yanu away — but Yanu wouldn’t listen to her. Wuwuwu, she was so angry!