Feng Jiu’er had long harbored doubts about her own past and her true identity.

She was a princess of noble birth, free of any illness or ailment — so why had she been sent away to a detached villa to recuperate, and kept there for sixteen years at that?

Whenever her Imperial Father looked at her, his gaze was always unusually complicated.

She could not fathom what he was thinking, yet that complexity had always left a quiet unease stirring in her heart.

Jiu’er had even come to realize that in her Imperial Father’s presence, she had to appear carefree and thoughtless — as though she had no inner world of her own — only then would he speak to her with ease.

The moment she showed even a hint of having her own ideas, his eyes would turn piercing, laden with a probing quality that cut straight through her.

And so before her Imperial Father, she had no choice but to play the fool.

Yet she truly could not understand — what exactly was her Imperial Father guarding against?

She had neither power nor influence. Even if she were to inherit the throne one day, it would only be because her Imperial Father willingly passed it to her. To fight and scheme for power in her current position was utterly impossible.

So why did her Imperial Father still harbor a certain wariness toward her? What could she possibly still possess that even he would feel the need to be wary of?

“It’s nothing. Go and rest.” Feng Qiongcang waved his hand in dismissal.

Jiu’er immediately paid her respects and took her leave.

The moment she stepped out the door, she flew like the wind toward Feng Jiang’s bedchamber.

Feng Jiang had already laid Feng Li down on the bed and drawn the blankets over him.

Seeing Feng Jiu’er arrive, he said in surprise, “It’s this late — what are you still doing here? Go and rest!”

“I can’t. Tonight, I must keep watch over Fourth Imperial Uncle.”

She was the one who had dressed his wound, and tonight, Fourth Imperial Uncle would very likely develop a fever. She had to stay.

Who had taught her medicine no longer mattered. What mattered was that she knew she had a firm grasp on Fourth Imperial Uncle’s injury.

Leaving him in someone else’s care would only make her uneasy.

In truth, Feng Jiang had been hoping Jiu’er would stay and watch over Fourth Imperial Uncle. In all the years he had known him, he had never seen Fourth Imperial Uncle hurt this badly.

He had watched with his own eyes as Feng Jiu’er treated the wound on his chest.

A gash that deep — even if the imperial physician had handled it himself, Feng Jiang could not be sure it would have been managed well.

“All right, you stay here and watch over him.”

“Leave two young eunuchs to keep night watch. Fourth Imperial Uncle will likely run a fever and night sweats before long — someone must be ready at all times to bring in hot water.”

“Understood.”

That night, in the second half of the night, Feng Li did indeed burn all over, drenched in sweat.

Feng Jiu’er never left his side, not even for a moment. She wiped him down and cooled him through physical means.

The ordeal dragged on until just before dawn, when Feng Li’s high fever finally broke.

Only once she was certain it would not spike again did Feng Jiu’er finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Even so, she remained seated at the edge of the bed, keeping watch over him without moving — until she could no longer hold herself up, and then she slumped forward onto the edge of the bed, closed her eyes, and decided to rest for just a little while.

As for Feng Jiang, he had long since toppled sideways in his chair and fallen into a dead sleep.

The next day, before dawn had fully broken, the faint chirping of insects and birdsong drifted in through the windows.

The man lying in the sick bed shifted his eyelids — not yet fully awake — and became aware that someone was at the bedside.

His brow furrowed. He snapped his eyes open. The vigilance cultivated over so many years meant that in the very instant of waking, his palm had already gathered true qi.

“Fourth Imperial Uncle!” Feng Jiang lowered his voice urgently, rushing to stop him. “It’s Jiu’er.”

Those who trained in martial arts could least bear to have someone draw close while they slept — especially when Fourth Imperial Uncle had been alone for so many years, and no one had ever appeared in his bed.

Knowing he would be on guard the moment he woke, Feng Jiang had been keeping watch from the moment he himself came to.

Feng Li blinked, and at last made out the girl slumped over the edge of the bed.

She was seated on a low stool, upper body draped across the bed’s edge, head pillowed on her own arms, sleeping deeply.

A trace of exhaustion was written between her brows. Beneath her eyes, a faint shadow of darkness had gathered — she had clearly not slept nearly enough.

Had she truly kept watch here for the entire night?

Feng Li opened his mouth, meaning to speak, and found that his throat was parched beyond words.

Feng Jiang was observant enough, and immediately poured a cup of warm tea, lifting it to Feng Li’s lips.

Feng Li drank four full cups in quick succession before finally feeling himself again, then carefully eased himself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed.

“Fourth Imperial Uncle…” Feng Jiang was uneasy. He had been so gravely injured the night before — how could he already be sitting up as though nothing had happened?

Was Fourth Imperial Uncle’s constitution simply too strong and too formidable? Or was it that Jiu’er’s medical skill was extraordinary enough to account for it?

But Feng Li’s attention was wholly fixed on Feng Jiu’er.

Seeing her slumped over the bed’s edge, he lightened his movements and stepped down from the bed, bending to gather her up and carry her.

Feng Jiang grew alarmed and said urgently, “Fourth Imperial Uncle, you must not! Your wound—”

“It’s fine.” Even if his body were riddled with a thousand wounds, how could any of that compare to his little Jiu’er?

“Fourth Imperial Uncle, you’re injured — let me do it.”

Feng Jiang had not dared touch Feng Jiu’er earlier, afraid that his doing so would rouse her. She had gone without sleep the entire previous night, and after he himself had drifted off, he had woken two or three times through the night — each time to find her still holding a cloth, wiping the sweat from Fourth Imperial Uncle’s brow. He had wanted to keep her company until dawn, but each time, after watching her for a while, he had fallen asleep again before he could stop himself.

In any case, Jiu’er had gone the whole night without sleeping, and so when he woke at last to find her asleep, he had not dared disturb her.

But now — if he did nothing, Fourth Imperial Uncle would carry her to bed himself.

If that tore Fourth Imperial Uncle’s wound open, Jiu’er would wake up and give him a thorough tongue-lashing he would not soon forget.

And yet — just as he took two steps toward Jiu’er, Fourth Imperial Uncle directed a gaze so cold and sharp it could have stopped a man’s heart.

Feng Jiang flinched and stopped short, flustered and ill at ease. “F-Fourth Imperial Uncle, that look… what does it mean?”

“Is a young lady’s body something yours to touch?” Feng Li was displeased. This rotten brat — daring to lay a hand on his Jiu’er. Did he have a death wish?

Feng Jiang was left utterly speechless. That rebuke seemed rather excessive, did it not?

“Jiu’er is my imperial sister. What is wrong with me carrying my own imperial sister?”

“Be quiet.” Feng Li bent and gently gathered Jiu’er up, easing her onto the bed with careful hands.

Feng Jiang watched his movements, still deeply unsettled.

Fourth Imperial Uncle had been so grievously wounded just the night before — and now, having just woken, he could move about as freely as ever?

Jiu’er was slight, clearly, but she was still a grown young woman. She had to weigh something. Using that kind of effort — was he truly all right?

Noticing a faint tightening between Feng Li’s brows, Feng Jiang rushed over. “Fourth Imperial Uncle, is it the wound? Is it hurting?”

His voice had risen somewhat. Jiu’er — who had not yet fully settled onto the bed — stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly opened her eyes.

In her line of sight, a man in a mask was looking down at her.

The mask was cold, but his gaze was gentle. Only — seeing that she was awake, he seemed the faintest bit unsettled.

“Jiu’er…”

“Fourth Imperial Uncle… Fourth Imperial Uncle!” Jiu’er thought for a moment — and then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she lurched upright and yanked open his robe.

The bandaged wound, layered in gauze stained with dried blood — fresh blood was seeping through, spreading outward in a slow, widening bloom.

The wound had plainly been torn open again.