The highly favored Jiu Yue rushed to find Nan Xun in a flurry, and the first words out of her mouth were: "If I don’t come back in two months, remember to steal my dog for me."
Nan Xun spat out his tea. "...A person of my status, and you want me to help you steal a dog?!"
Jiu Yue shook her head, glancing reluctantly at the frolicking dog on the ground. "I have no choice. I can’t find anyone else."
There was no way she could take the dog with her.
"What’s going on?" Nan Xun keenly sensed the shift in her mood. "Did something happen?"
Jiu Yue let out a heavy sigh, her hands on the table clenching into fists. "Sima Qing... it seems he’s always known I used to work for Prince Ping."
Nan Xun paused. Jiu Yue lifted her head, staring at him as she enunciated each word: "He’s even seen what I looked like before."
Nan Xun immediately grasped the gravity of the situation.
"He’s been testing me, guarding against me, and using me all along." Jiu Yue felt utterly exasperated, slamming the table with a curse. "I should’ve demanded a thousand taels back then!"
Nan Xun: "..."
His lips twitched. "Is this really the time to be thinking about money?"
Jiu Yue pouted and waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, forget it. These nobles are all scheming and rotten! Anyway, whether we succeed or fail in moving against Prince Ping this time, I won’t be coming back..."
"I probably won’t have time to visit you for a while. Take care of yourself." Her spirits were unprecedentedly low, and she left without even finishing her tea.
Nan Xun’s gaze darkened bit by bit.
Suddenly recalling something, he frowned slightly and went inside to dig out a long-buried wanted poster.
The crude sketch on it was hideously exaggerated.
Back when he first ran into Jiu Yue on the street, he hadn’t known about her past. Later, when she mentioned that the assassins sent to kill her were Prince Ping’s men, he’d naturally assumed the poster was issued by Prince Ping through the martial world.
But now, looking back, Nan Xun found everything about it suspicious.
After meeting Xue'er and the Mute Girl, Jiu Yue had learned she’d once worked under Prince Ping—meaning Prince Ping must have seen her real appearance. If he’d issued a wanted notice, he could’ve provided countless accurate portraits.
So why use such an abstract, slapdash sketch?
If the goal was precise capture, the moment Jiu Yue changed her appearance even slightly, the poster would’ve been useless.
After turning it over in his mind... Nan Xun could only think of one plausible explanation.
The person who issued the notice hadn’t had access to a clear portrait of Jiu Yue at the time—and the impression she’d left on them was that crude, scribbled image...
The wanted poster hadn’t come from Prince Ping.
Jiu Yue returned to the prince’s residence with her dog, where Xiao Wuyou greeted her with delight. But after hugging the dog, he lingered instead of running off.
"What’s wrong?" Jiu Yue mustered a smile and crouched beside him. "Is it too hot outside? Let’s go play indoors."
Xiao Wuyou shook his head, his little face creased with worry. "Jiu Yue, are you unhappy?"
Jiu Yue froze.
Xiao Wuyou took her hand and placed it on the chubby dog’s head. When she didn’t react, he pulled her hand to his own cheek, his large eyes fixed on her.
"How about now? Do you feel better?"
Jiu Yue burst out laughing, using her other hand to wipe his face. "You shouldn’t touch your face with hands that just petted the dog. It rolls around in the dirt all day—it’s not clean."
Seeing her laugh, Xiao Wuyou seemed to relax.
"It’s okay! As long as you’re happy." He grinned, a small dimple appearing, and tugged Jiu Yue to sit with him on the shaded veranda. "It’s cool here. Let’s play a bit longer—Brother Dongfang will take us to eat soon."
Jiu Yue swung her legs idly against the railing. "Why do you call Qiu Dongfang ‘brother,’ but I’ve never heard you call me ‘sister’?"
Xiao Wuyou gaped at her, looking genuinely shocked. "Because Brother Dongfang is an adult, but you’re my friend!"
His expression radiated betrayal—as if to say, I considered you a friend, and you wanted to be an authority figure?
Xiao Wuyou seemed conflicted. "Did you forget? You’re my first friend."
Jiu Yue was momentarily speechless.
Her gaze drifted to the two little creatures before her, and suddenly... this place didn’t seem so bad after all.
"You’re right!" Jiu Yue’s energy returned as she scooped Xiao Wuyou up with a grin. "You’re the first person who ever treated me as a friend. I’ll definitely cherish that!"
Xiao Wuyou beamed at the validation.
"I’ll cherish you too, Jiu Yue!" The child declared with solemn responsibility.
After playing with Xiao Wuyou all afternoon, Qiu Dongfang arrived at dusk to fetch him and relay a message: "His Highness wants to see you."
Jiu Yue had an inkling of what it was about, but she wasn’t in a hurry.
"I’ll go after dinner." She leisurely took Xiao Wuyou’s hand. "Tonight, I’m eating with Wuyou. Don’t wait for me."
Qiu Dongfang: "..."
One day apart, and she’d grown even bolder.
But for reasons of his own, Qiu Dongfang didn’t dampen the mood. He merely watched as the trio—one tall, one small, and one pudgy dog—ambled away before finally turning to leave.
No wonder Jiu Yue liked the dog so much.
None of the people around her were truly sincere.
Qiu Dongfang rubbed his face and silently headed to the study to report.
After dinner, Jiu Yue played with Xiao Wuyou a while longer. Only when Qiu Dongfang came to supervise did she finally drag her feet to Sima Qing.
Entering the study, her eyes immediately landed on the mask placed before him.
"That was fast." She sounded surprised but curious. "Didn’t Old Tao say it’d be ready tomorrow night?"
Sima Qing’s expression remained neutral. "You visited the training camp today. Old Tao worried you were impatient, so he finished it early."
"I was just passing by—Young Master wanted to find his dog." Jiu Yue leaned on the table with a playful smirk. "Though I heard you personally went to the camp last night to deal with the traitor. Weren’t you supposed to have me as your bodyguard? Why didn’t you take me along?"
"A minor matter." Sima Qing lifted his gaze, meeting hers directly. "Had I troubled you, I fear the study’s newly replaced door would’ve been demolished again."
The air grew tense.
Jiu Yue was the first to laugh. "Still as witty as ever, Your Highness."
She averted her eyes, picking up the mask and settling into a nearby chair.
Sima Qing continued watching her.
"Is this the face I’m supposed to impersonate? Doesn’t look like much..." She glanced up. "Can I try it on now?"
Sima Qing stayed silent.
Taking that as permission, Jiu Yue pressed the mask to her face.
With no mirror in the room and zero experience wearing such things, the process was far from smooth... Just as she was about to misalign the mouth hole with her eyes, Sima Qing couldn’t take it anymore.
"Stop fidgeting." He circled the desk to stand before her, adjusting the mask with visible disdain. "This thing costs two months of your wages. Care to guess who’d pay if you tore it—you or me?"
Jiu Yue: "..."
Fine. At least she wasn’t the one exerting effort.
Seeing her even leisurely close her eyes, Sima Qing momentarily doubted who the actual prince was.
Sima Qing: "..."
This woman was downright poisonous.
Expressionlessly, he adjusted Jiu Yue’s mask bit by bit, smoothing out the last wrinkle near her ear until it fit perfectly against her skin.
The moment Jiu Yue opened her eyes, Sima Qing instinctively took two steps back.
"What’s wrong? Does it look strange?" Jiu Yue curiously touched her new face, eager to see her current appearance. Too lazy to fetch a mirror, she grabbed Sima Qing’s collar and yanked him forward.
The distance between them closed in an instant.
Sima Qing’s eyes widened in surprise.
Satisfied, Jiu Yue saw her own reflection—and his sharply constricted pupils.
"Your Highness?" She grinned, releasing him and casually smoothing the slightly crumpled fabric of his robe. "You seem awfully tense."
Sima Qing stayed silent for a beat before replying, "It’s convincing."
Jiu Yue raised a brow. Of course it was—it looked exactly like her when she first shed her wild appearance after arriving at Nan Xun’s residence!
"All thanks to the sketches you provided, Your Highness," she praised sincerely. "Your artistry is remarkable."
Sima Qing: "..."
That tone… why did it sound so familiar?
With the mask now secured, Jiu Yue made no move to remove it. Instead, she sat back down and asked, "When do I leave?"
"...If nothing goes wrong, Prince Ping will depart from Qingnan in a few days," Sima Qing replied, watching her. "When do you want to set out?"
"Qingnan?" Jiu Yue stroked her chin, considering briefly before declaring, "Then I’ll leave tomorrow morning."
Sima Qing fell into deep thought.
Feeling it was time to pack, Jiu Yue patted her thighs and stood. "Well then, Your Highness, I’ll take my leave."
She turned to walk past him toward the door, mentally listing essentials—but after just two steps, a hand clamped around her wrist.
A cold glint flashed in Jiu Yue’s eyes. Instinct took over as her wrist twisted, reversing their positions in a blink. She didn’t hold back—Sima Qing was forced into a chair under her grip.
Sima Qing: "..."
He looked up to meet her amused gaze. "Your Highness, anything else to add?"
A sigh escaped him.
"If you don’t want to go, I won’t force you," Sima Qing said.
Jiu Yue’s eyes flickered with confusion before she shrugged. "The mask is already on. Why wouldn’t I go?"
"It can be removed just as easily," he replied, words layered with meaning.
"True," Jiu Yue released him, smiling carefreely. "But not now."
Some words, too, weren’t meant to be spoken yet.
"Though some things can still be done in time," she added, eyes sharp with cunning.
Sima Qing: "...What?"
Jiu Yue grinned shamelessly. "Can I get an advance on the next two months’ wages?"
Sima Qing: "..."
In the end, she only secured one month’s pay.
Tch. Sima Qing even had the nerve to say, "Come back for the rest if you want it." As if she’d dare return! If she didn’t flee overnight with a horse, it’d only be because her courage failed her.
What a miser.
Grumbling, Jiu Yue headed off to pack.
Back in the study, Sima Qing had returned to his desk. Hidden in the shadows, Fu Yu and Mo Jin finally dared to breathe.
Staying undetected under Jiu Yue’s nose had nearly cost them their lives.
"That scared me—I thought she was about to attack His Highness!" Mo Jin patted his chest, relieved Fu Yu had restrained him. Any noise would’ve been hard to explain.
Fu Yu, too, felt like he’d survived hell—especially when Jiu Yue had flung the prince into the chair. For a split second, he’d sensed genuine killing intent.
Right now, he deeply admired his lord’s composure.
"Your Highness… are you really sending Jiu Yue to Prince Ping?" Mo Jin scratched his head, conflicted.
"Got a better idea?" Sima Qing glanced up coldly. "If you’re reluctant, pack your things and join her."
Mo Jin: "..."
He wisely shut his mouth.
Fu Yu, braver, spoke up. "Should I continue drafting the follow-up designs?"
Sima Qing’s brush paused. A drop of ink splattered onto the paper, spreading slowly.
"Keep at it," he said flatly, replacing the sheet. "And maintain regular contact with her."
Since nothing had been stated outright, Jiu Yue remained—for now—Sima Qing’s agent.
