“If you’ve got anger to vent, vent it on me. What’s the point of frightening a child?” Mu Xueshi shot the Third Prince a glare, his face full of disdain. In his eyes, the mere look on the Third Prince’s face was enough to cow even him—let alone such a small child. Seeing Su Ying sobbing pitifully in the prince’s arms, Mu Xueshi could not help but feel sympathy.
The temperature in the chamber seemed to plummet at once.
The Third Prince cast him a frigid glance, said nothing, and strode toward the door. Seeing him about to leave, Mu Xueshi hurriedly shouted, “At least unseal my acupoints first! I need to relieve myself!”
The deep, silent courtyard echoed only with Mu Xueshi’s voice. A servant, startled by the sound—perhaps the most pleasant he had heard all day—turned instinctively to look for its source. In that fleeting distraction, a glint of light flashed before his eyes. He saw only Su Ruhan’s sweep of black robes before darkness swallowed him whole.
A deep sword mark lay across his throat—yet not a single drop of blood spilled.
The instant Su Ruhan’s blade descended, a swift-handed guard caught the servant’s falling body. The man had guarded the Third Prince’s courtyard for ten years. One moment’s lapse had cost him his life.
Two guards moved with seamless efficiency, carrying the lifeless body to the back mountain within moments. Not a sound was made. Not a stain marked the courtyard stones. Su Ruhan had already vanished, silently resuming his place behind the Third Prince, as though nothing had occurred.
Outside the courtyard, the Second Prince wandered leisurely, a dark ink-colored folding fan in hand, as though strolling through a scenic garden. Suddenly, figures flashed before his eyes. When his focus sharpened, the Third Prince stood before him—Su Ying cradled in his arms.
The child had finished crying, though tear tracks still clung to his face and his large eyes were swollen red. Though Su Ying had slipped into the Third Prince’s residence before, never had he been so aggrieved—nor had the Third Prince ever personally escorted him out.
Yet the Third Prince made no move to return him.
Su Ying dared not stretch out his arms toward the Second Prince. He could only look at him pitifully, lips trembling.
A wicked smile curved the Second Prince’s lips. “Third Brother personally returning my troublesome son—what an honor for me as his elder.”
The mockery in his voice tightened the air between them at once. The Third Prince’s expression was ice; beneath the Second Prince’s light laugh simmered fury. He might tolerate many things—but not this treatment of Su Ying. The child cried often enough, yet such heartbreak was rare.
“Do not forget, Third Brother—this child still calls you Imperial Uncle.”
With that, the Second Prince snapped his fan shut and lunged to seize Su Ying.
The Third Prince let out a cold laugh. With one hand, he caught the boy by the back and lifted him upside down into the air, leaving only two small feet kicking helplessly above.
Now the Second Prince was truly enraged. His smile remained, but his eyes gleamed with menace. He leapt into the air, circling behind the Third Prince, while a guard named Guan Rong attacked from the front—striking at less than two inches’ distance in a reckless palm strike meant to divide his attention.
At that same instant, the Second Prince drew his sword from behind in a whirlwind assault. The blade moved so swiftly it vanished, leaving only shadows.
Yet swifter still was the Third Prince himself.
Before the onlookers could breathe, he had evaded both sword and palm, tossed Su Ying neatly into the Second Prince’s arms—and retreated to the inner chamber where Mu Xueshi was hidden.
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Futile Devices Scans 
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