“It was your blade just now. Even though she dodged it, her face was still cut.”

Jiu’er watched Qiao Mu’s retreating figure. That girl had genuinely never cared about such things before, yet now she had finally developed a young woman’s vanity.

It was said that falling in love could make a girl return to being a real girl — truly, that was right.

In Qiao Mu’s case, this woman used to not care at all about her own face. Even if a blade had slashed across it, she would probably have felt nothing more than a brief flash of discomfort.

But now, the mere graze of a sword’s edge, drawing only the tiniest trace of blood, was enough to leave her on the verge of tears.

The old Qiao Mu — the one who could bleed without shedding a single tear — had, ever since finding someone she loved, finally come to understand what crying was.

“Go check on her. Otherwise, I’m afraid she’ll spiral if left alone.”

“Is the wound… serious?”

Yanu watched Qiao Mu sitting alone in the distance, the unease in his heart seeming to grow with every passing moment.

The injury looked minor enough, yet it had fallen on her face — and she was, after all, a young woman…

“It’s not serious, but what if it leaves a scar? What then? A young woman with a scar on her face will never find a husband.”

In truth, the wound was nothing more than a shallow scrape. What medicine did Jiu’er not have? Making sure it left absolutely no trace would be effortless for her.

But the one who had caused the injury was Yanu — naturally, he ought to feel guilty about it.

Yanu seemed even more unsettled. “Is there a medicine that removes scars?”

Scar-removal medicine was, of course, something she always carried on her person — out in the wilderness like this, it was needed at any moment.

Jiu’er drew a small, elegantly crafted vial from her bag and handed it to him. “Use it sparingly. This is all we have for the entire journey.”

Good medicine was not easily refined, and out here on the road, it was even harder to produce.

So truly, every drop had to count.

Yanu said, “Once her scars have healed, I’ll return what’s left to you.”

“Oh? Already feeling protective, are we?” Good — this man had finally come to his senses.

Yet Yanu replied with complete seriousness, “What if the scars stay and she never finds a husband? If she ends up blaming me for it, what am I supposed to do?”

Feng Jiu’er was utterly dumbfounded. She stared at Yanu’s departing back for a long moment, unable to collect herself.

When she finally did, her very first thought was to offer Qiao Mu her condolences.

This Yanu — honestly, why couldn’t he learn to be tender with a woman? Even now, his only concern was that she might pin her troubles on him.

Whether to call him heartless or simply pragmatic, she couldn’t decide. What an infuriatingly straightforward man.

The night grew gradually thicker. As this stretch of land sank into murk, the atmosphere around them turned stranger still.

Everyone knew the dangers lurking in the distant scenery. Now, with the moonlight dim and heavy, at least there was no fear of catching an unwanted glimpse of something from afar.

Even so, Jiu’er quickly noticed that the air around them was growing thinner and thinner — as though an unseen pressure were silently closing in.

“How does it look?” Jiu Qing and Mu Mu had personally patrolled the perimeter that night. When they returned, they found Feng Jiu’er with her brows drawn tight.

Jiu’er had no energy left to spend on guessing his identity. Right now, danger could descend at any moment — ensuring everyone came through unscathed was the only thing that mattered.

“The air around us grows stranger by the minute. You’ve gone to survey the area — did you find anything?” She looked toward Jiu Qing.

Jiu Qing said evenly, “The people who had been tailing us all this way have pulled back. Even they don’t seem to dare barge into this place recklessly.”

Especially after nightfall — those figures had withdrawn so completely that not a trace of them remained.

Jiu’er glanced back. Aside from a few brothers still standing watch in rotation, everyone else had sat down to rest.

“Wait — doesn’t it seem like there are fewer people?” She suddenly froze, and shot to her feet.

“Long Yi and Eleven are keeping watch nearby with their men.” Even if those who had been tailing them had withdrawn, that was no guarantee the area was free of wild beasts.

Wolves, for instance.

This mountain forest was entirely uncharted — countless unknown dangers lay hidden, and no one could predict what might emerge.

“You should rest a while too.” Jiu’er patted the space beside her and drew out some dried meat and a water skin from nearby.

Jiu Qing did not hesitate. He sat down beside her, accepted the dried meat and water skin from her hands, and began eating in large, unhurried bites.

The air around him still carried that feeling — familiar and steadying, in a way she could not quite explain.

Her head felt a little light, and she nearly let herself lean into him before catching the impulse.

She missed her Ninth Imperial Uncle so much — truly, deeply missed him. She so wanted Jiu Qing to be him, and yet she was frightened by the very thought.

If he truly was, and news of it somehow leaked — what would become of Phoenix City?

In truth, if Jiu’er really wanted to investigate, many things were within her reach. But she did not dare.

The moment she pressed too hard, others would be alerted.

If during the investigation, something went wrong at some link in the chain — with someone — it could bring ruin upon her Ninth Imperial Uncle.

“Jiu Qing.” She suddenly looked up at his face and asked quietly, “Is there anyone you miss?”

Jiu Qing did not even glance at her. He answered offhandedly, “No.”

The person he missed was right before his eyes — visible, within reach. There was nothing left to miss.

“Oh.” Feng Jiu’er lowered her head and looked at the two shadows the moonlight cast across the ground.

They sat together with a small gap between them, yet Jiu Qing’s robes were wide, and the fabric of their clothing nearly touched.

Because of this, their shadows merged as one — the two of them looked, in silhouette, as though they were nestled close together.

Unable to see his face, watching only the shadows, she felt more and more that he truly was her Ninth Imperial Uncle.

Feng Jiu’er couldn’t help but raise her hand and lightly trace the shape of that face in the shadow on the ground.

No scar. No sun-darkened skin. The line of those cheekbones looked so much like the man she could not stop thinking about.

Just as her fingertip was about to brush the shadow of Jiu Qing’s cheek, Jiu Qing suddenly stood up.

Feng Jiu’er startled. Realizing she might have overstepped, she scrambled to her feet as well. “I—”

Jiu Qing said nothing. He simply stretched those long legs and walked briskly forward.

It was then that Feng Jiu’er noticed — something was clearly wrong with the brothers up ahead.

“What’s happening?” Before Jiu Qing could arrive, Mu Mu had already rushed over.

He hauled apart two brothers who had been grappling with each other.

One of them had eyes blazing red. He swung a fist directly at Mu Mu’s face.

Mu Mu caught his arms and twisted them behind his back with a single motion. The man continued to thrash — wildly, desperately, as though seized by madness.

Having witnessed Yanu’s episode before, Feng Jiu’er wasted no time. She drew out her silver needles and shot Mu Mu a glance.

Mu Mu immediately sealed the man’s pressure points, holding him still so Jiu’er could apply the needles. Then he turned to look at the other brother — the one the first man had been fighting.

That brother was from the Celestial Mechanism Hall. He himself seemed fine, though visibly indignant. “He attacked me without reason. I had no wish to brawl with him.”

The one who had gone berserk was from the Ninth Prince’s household. Though the camaraderie between both groups had grown solid over the journey, being struck without cause was something no one could simply swallow without striking back.

After all, everyone here came from a martial background, and these were hot-blooded young men.