Moments later, the stiffness left the child’s face. He covered his mouth with a chubby hand and giggled, cheeks flushed like ripe apples, white and rosy. Mu Xueshi found himself longing to take a bite. He had never realized how fond he was of children—perhaps because he had never seen one so lovely. Though dressed as a boy, even girls rarely possessed such clear, radiant beauty.
Mu Xueshi stared unabashedly, thinking that in years to come this child would surely grow into a peerless beauty. What was it with this place—did it produce nothing but handsome men? He had yet to see a single woman. Could there be a dire imbalance of men to women here?
If so, he might never find a wife in this lifetime. Better to leave early. Though an ugly fellow in his modern world, at least there had been women like Sister Feng waiting somewhere out there. To waste his youth here only to end up an old bachelor—what a tragic fate.
Lost in self-pity, he nearly missed the small hand darting once more toward his face.
“What are you doing, little bro?” Mu Xueshi forced an awkward grin.
The child smiled sweetly in return, placed a finger to his lips in a conspiratorial “shh,” glanced about, and whispered mysteriously, “Third Imperial Uncle… shh… must be quiet.”
Third Imperial Uncle? Mu Xueshi’s thoughts had barely formed when the child’s finger jabbed toward his eye. He reflexively shut them tight.
Instantly, loud wailing erupted.
Startled, Mu Xueshi opened his eyes at once. The crying ceased as abruptly as it had begun. The child lunged forward, one small hand clamping Mu Xueshi’s face in place, the other advancing again toward his eyeball.
Too slow to react, Mu Xueshi felt a sharp poke. Pain exploded through him.
“Ahhh!” he cried, squeezing his eyes shut and refusing to open them again.
Soft sobbing resumed at his ear. The child’s face was streaked with tears, pitiful beyond measure.
“Wuu… magic… colored… bead…” he hiccupped incoherently.
Mu Xueshi steeled himself. No matter how adorable or miserable the boy appeared, he would not gamble with his eyesight. The child clearly mistook his eyes for some sort of jewel or precious bead—and if so, the boy’s vision was woefully misguided.
With eyes tightly shut, Mu Xueshi growled threateningly, “Stop crying. Cry again and I’ll… castrate you.”
The child paid no heed, sobbing louder.
Annoyance flared. Mu Xueshi enjoyed pestering others, but could not stand being pestered in return.
“If you cry again, the Third Prince will come. He hates noise. One sound from you and he’ll twist your head clean off. Don’t doubt it—he’s a great demon. And I’m Master Youzai, sent down by the Jade Emperor to capture that old fiend… hahaha…”
Spinning wild tales as he often did to frighten children, Mu Xueshi rambled nonsense. Gradually, the sobbing dwindled to quiet sniffles—then silence.
Believing himself successful, he cautiously cracked his eyes open. His long lashes trembled before lifting fully, revealing eyes bright as flowing starlight.
At that instant, he froze.
The Third Prince stood before him, the child cradled in his arms.
The boy, upon seeing Mu Xueshi’s eyes open, reached eagerly toward them—but the prince held him firmly in place. Confronted with the prince’s expression, the child immediately stilled, blinking with wounded innocence.
As for the Third Prince—he remained motionless, gazing steadily at Mu Xueshi, silently savoring every word that had just been spoken.
Futile Devices Scans 
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