Feng Jiu’er simply shrugged, seemingly indifferent to all of it.

“All right, Wuyou — you may go. I still have things to say to Jian Yi.”

She grinned and hooked her arm through Jian Yi’s, making it plain she had no wish for Wuyou to linger.

Jian Yi had had many more things he wanted to ask Yanu, but looking at the situation now, it seemed pressing Yanu for answers would get him nowhere.

He could only let out a cold huff and let Feng Jiu’er pull him to the side.

This fellow was still taking liberties with him — what kind of young lady behaved this way?

The Feng Jiu’er of before had never been like this.

But since Yanu was still present, Jian Yi held his tongue, whatever thoughts he might have had.

Wuyou watched the two of them interact, and a faint heaviness settled over his heart — though there was nothing he could do.

She was the princess. If she truly had feelings for Jian Yi, there was nothing amiss in that.

The princess would be the future Empress. An empress’s inner palace would naturally be filled with countless consorts.

Even if she were to take Jian Yi, Mu Mu, the Ninth Prince, all of them into her back palace — in this place, it would be entirely acceptable.

He just felt an inexplicable dull ache in his chest…

He had originally assumed the princess only cared for the Ninth Prince. But looking at things now, it seemed the princess had truly forgotten the Ninth Prince.

Otherwise, she would not be showing such warmth toward Jian Yi.

Wuyou set the clothing down, withdrew to the doorway, closed the door behind the two of them, and silently left.

Not until the sound of footsteps had faded into the distance did Jian Yi gently push Feng Jiu’er. “Would you not—”

Unexpectedly, Jiu’er released him before he could finish the sentence.

Her expression turned sober. She walked to the door and lingered there, nose lifted, for quite some time — until she was certain the medicinal scent had completely dissipated.

She turned to look at Jian Yi, and the coquettish grin from before was entirely gone. She said: “He is Imperial Father’s man.”

Jian Yi was momentarily stunned, and then, as the pieces fell into place, he finally understood why Feng Jiu’er had been so… audacious with him just moments ago.

“You… you did it deliberately, to let him believe that you… that you and I…” Jian Yi’s face reddened.

Even knowing full well it was an act, a young man who had never experienced such things would still feel flustered by it.

This made him realize — what he and Feng Qingyin had shared truly had nothing to do with anything between a man and a woman.

Whenever Feng Qingyin tried to draw close to him, he would only refuse her, with even an instinctive aversion.

But Jiu’er… no, no — what had just happened was not that kind of thing between a man and a woman either. It was simply that… he did not find it disagreeable, nothing more.

“What else? Did you think I actually wanted to take advantage of you?”

Him, a grown man — her, a small girl — and she would feel embarrassed to say he was taking advantage of her.

She was still uncertain which side Wuyou’s heart truly stood on. Perhaps Wuyou was loyal to her, but perhaps he could not withstand the pressure her Imperial Father placed on him.

Some things he would inevitably have to report to her Imperial Father.

Given that, it was better to keep even Wuyou in the dark — at least it would spare him from being placed in too difficult a position.

Jian Yi could not bring himself to say a single word. His neck burned crimson all the way down.

“Go and bathe and change.” Jiu’er sat down in the chair, her tone mild.

Jian Yi’s face turned even redder: “But you said it was just… just… a pretense?”

“A pretense or not, one should still bathe and change, and then rest.”

Tonight, it seemed there would be no leaving this palace.

If she did not do something, how would her Imperial Father’s side feel reassured?

She ought to be the image of an unrestrained and unbridled princess. Otherwise, her Imperial Father’s suspicions would be aroused.

Jiu’er moved to the window and gazed out at the deep, dark night outside.

A face rose in her mind — the one she had glimpsed the night before.

He lay in bed with his eyes closed, his complexion pale.

That face — breathtakingly, devastatingly beautiful — had never left the deep recesses of her mind. All day long, even when she willed herself not to think of it, it surfaced unbidden.

“That man lying ill in bed — who is he?” She finally could not stop herself from asking.

Jian Yi looked at her. Even though she had forgotten the Ninth Prince, her feelings toward him were clearly not like her feelings toward anyone else.

He said: “The Ninth Prince of Bei Mu. To escort you here, he set aside even half of what he commanded. He followed you across vast distances. And now, it is in search of you that he suffered such grave injuries.”

A sudden sharp pain pierced Jiu’er’s chest. On instinct, she raised her hand and pressed it over her heart.

She could not remember anything — nothing at all. And yet her chest ached without reason.

Every time she thought of the pallor on that face, her heart twisted with a sourness she could not explain. As though… she had wronged him…

Jian Yi was about to say something when he suddenly furrowed his brow.

He looked at Feng Jiu’er and conveyed a warning with his eyes.

No wonder Jiu’er had put on that act with him just moments ago — she had anticipated it. She had long known that tonight, there would be no shortage of uninvited observers.

Jiu’er, with no inner energy, could not hear the sounds outside, but reading Jian Yi’s expression, she could roughly surmise that covert watchers had arrived.

She tilted her chin upward. The sharpness in her eyes was concealed, and at the corners of her lips, an unrestrained smile spread open once more.

“Still not going to bathe and change? Do you want this princess to personally attend to you?”

Jian Yi was still a little unaccustomed to her breezy and flirtatious manner — that fine and handsome face flushed red at a moment’s notice.

But this time, he was mentally prepared. He knew why Jiu’er was speaking this way.

He lowered his voice: “You… the princess should bathe first. I… will follow shortly.”

“All right — be sure to come, now!”

Feng Jiu’er gathered her clothes and made her way to the bathing chamber at the back of the sleeping quarters.

Inside was a pool of warm spring water, drawn down from the mountain — a natural, living hot spring.

Her sleeping quarters were vast, the inner chamber exceptionally large — befitting, presumably, the standard for a princess.

Jian Yi remained in the inner chamber while she was in the bathing room behind it, separated by a great distance.

She was not worried that Jian Yi would actually come in. That fellow blushed at the slightest provocation — a standard, pure-hearted young man. He would never truly peer in on her.

And with Jian Yi keeping watch outside, she need not worry about anyone else slipping in. She felt completely at ease.

She had no real memory of Jian Yi or of what had passed between them.

And yet she was willing to trust — to trust that every one of them would never harm her.

She also trusted that the impossibly beautiful man lying in that bed had suffered those injuries because of her.

She wanted to go and see him again. Wanted to use her finest technique to massage his meridians, to administer acupuncture for him.

But she could not leave…

She gazed up at the dark, graceful mountain scenery before her. All of it gradually blurred and condensed into a single image.

A peerlessly beautiful face — the kind that would make every woman in the world lose her heart.

He must have woken by now. What was he doing?

Had he listened to the others and refrained from exerting himself?

The more she thought about it, the more restless her heart became. She wanted nothing more than to go to him right now — but Jian Yi was here. If she left now, what excuse could she possibly give?

Jiu’er lay draped over the smooth stone at the edge of the pool, lost in a restless longing.

What kind of princess’s life was this? All she wanted right now was to go and tend to that ailing man — and for his sake, she would willingly become a humble palace maid.

She had no idea where this servile impulse was coming from.

She propped her chin in her hand. No matter where she looked, she saw that matchlessly beautiful face.

It was not as though she had never seen a handsome man before. So why did this particular one feel so entirely different from all the rest?

She wanted so much to go and see him. What was she to do?