Having long since grown immune to Ning Xuan’s pitiful, tearful expression, Qing Zhu moved with lightning speed and snatched the untouched spring roll from his bowl.
“I know you don’t like sweets,” she said breezily. “So I’ll be a good person and show some kindness by helping you finish it.”
With that, he tossed the spring roll into his mouth and chewed with obvious relish, even smacking his lips a little—as if afraid others might not realize how delicious it was.
Ning Xuan only came back to his senses a moment later. He ground his teeth in fury, yet there was nothing he could do. After all, how could he possibly snatch back food that had already been chewed who-knew-how in someone else’s mouth?
After a full day of wiping, washing, and endless chores, the Prince Rong residence usually fell into silence at night.
Rock gardens and artificial hills, lotus ponds and winding corridors stretched into the distance. By day the courtyards looked like scenes from a painting, but by night they carried a faintly eerie air.
Clutching his stomach—which rumbled like distant drums—Ning Xuan glanced at Mo Qi sleeping beside him like a dead pig and let out a miserable sigh.
Are people in ancient times really this easy to feed?!
Because the young servants newly admitted to the residence were all underage, the household rules stated that minors received no breakfast and no snacks. Of course, if one were fortunate enough to receive a reward from a master, that would be another matter entirely.
But someone like Ning Xuan—assigned to the library chamber—might not even catch sight of the master for months, much less receive the unimaginable favor of a hearty meal.
Which meant that in a single day he was allowed only lunch and dinner.
Whether the food tasted good or not was beside the point. Children of the same age from various quarters all gathered together to eat; being able to snatch one’s own portion was already lucky enough. Who had the luxury to be picky?
Moreover, this was precisely the age when a body was growing fastest, when energy demands were naturally enormous—yet the household insisted that one must “temper the will from a young age.”
Starved to the point his stomach clung to his spine, Ning Xuan no longer even had the strength to rage. He could only mutter quietly to himself:
Ancient people really are ignorant… no scientific basis whatsoever…
Carefully dressing himself, he slipped out the door on silent feet.
He tried to recall the complicated route to the kitchen—one he had barely managed to memorize—hoping to scavenge something to eat.
Thinking about the spring roll Qing Zhu had stolen from him at lunch made his teeth itch with anger.
Clearly he wanted it himself, yet he claimed it was because I didn’t like sweets—taking advantage and still pretending to be generous!
It wasn’t that he disliked sweets at all. Back then he simply hadn’t understood how harsh reality would become. Foolishly picky, he had turned his nose up at the greasy spring roll, the oil making him feel nauseated.
But after several days without ever eating his fill, hunger had left him dizzy and weak. Now, even those oily spring rolls would be a treasure—hell, even a dripping oil cake he’d pounce on without hesitation.
Fill the stomach first. Everything else can come later.
“How strange…”
Ning Xuan muttered with a troubled frown.
Left turn, right turn—he had no idea how many twists and turns he had taken already. Hunger gnawed painfully at his gut, yet the courtyard seemed like a maze that could never be fully understood.
Glancing back at the pitch-black corridor behind him, Ning Xuan sighed miserably once more.
“At the very least… someone could tell me the way back…”
“Ah—~”
Suddenly a soft cry rang out—sweet, bone-meltingly seductive.
The sound struck Ning Xuan’s fragile eardrums like lightning. Every hair on his body stood on end, goosebumps instantly rising.
From the grass near the lotus pond came muffled, ambiguous sounds.
Ning Xuan glanced over, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He had a vague idea of what might be happening there, yet curiosity stubbornly tugged at him.
One must neither look nor listen to indecency… he told himself.
But this was the residence of Prince Rong, the Fifth Prince of the current dynasty. In the dead of night, surely people wouldn’t dare behave so brazenly… would they?
What Ning Xuan failed to realize was precisely this—
Because it was a princely residence…
Because it belonged to the powerful and noble…
Because the night was deep and the crowds had long dispersed…
…it was exactly the perfect place for deeds people only dared imagine—or did not even dare imagine at all.
Holding his breath, he crept toward the pavilion beside the lotus pond.
The sounds suddenly grew more intense.
Thinking he had been discovered, Ning Xuan hurriedly pressed himself against the back of a massive rock from the artificial hill, hiding there while clutching his wildly pounding chest.
“Don’t—… ah… mm—!”
Unable to resist, he cautiously leaned his head out.
Almost immediately he regretted the reckless movement. But the moment he saw the scene before him, his body froze stiff with shock, unable even to withdraw quietly and flee.
Under the moonlight, two figures were entwined together.
Their faces could not be seen clearly, but the silhouettes outlined by the silver light were strikingly elegant.
The man sitting on the grass still had most of his clothes intact. Only the front of his robe had fallen open, revealing broad swathes of honey-colored muscle.
One arm wrapped around the other man’s waist, while the other wandered freely across his body in slow, deliberate caresses.
The man in his embrace, however, was far less composed.
His clothing had been almost completely stripped away, leaving only a pair of white under-trousers. His pale skin and slender frame looked especially delicate beneath the moonlight, evoking a helpless sort of tenderness.
Held tightly in the other’s arms, his head tilted back weakly, his neck forming a graceful curve. Long black hair spilled down his back like a waterfall, fluttering in the night breeze, the pale body beneath appearing almost decadent in the moonlight.
Between crimson lips, faint glimpses of teeth flashed. Soft moans escaped now and then, accompanied by breaths perfectly timed—not forced, but all the more alluring for their naturalness.
His head tipped back as though in pain, yet also pleasure.
He seemed to want to retreat, yet instead lifted his chest higher, offering its most sensitive vulnerability directly to the man’s lips.
The man chuckled softly.
Without hesitation he lowered his head, taking into his mouth the already-hardened bud that had bloomed in the night awaiting his attention. He sucked and kissed it mercilessly, even catching the pebble-hard tip between his teeth and tugging lightly.
“No—… don’t—ah! It’s… it’s too good… ah—!”
The slender man trembled instantly, a tingling pleasure laced with faint pain spreading through him.
Though he tried to resist, his arms tightened around the man as if afraid he might leave.
The man only laughed again.
One hand kneaded the narrow waist wantonly, while the other man seemed both to evade and to urge him on, his hips swaying softly in response to the movements.
The man’s other hand was not idle either. Through the thin cloth of the under-trousers it roamed along the man’s backside, deliberately avoiding the already-aroused heat between his legs.
Lowering his gaze, the man noticed the faint damp stain spreading across the white fabric.
Suddenly, he stopped.
All movement ceased.
The slender man shuddered. His dark eyes were still clouded with pleasure, moist and unfocused.
But the sudden loss of those caresses left his body—poised on the brink of release—aching with even greater need.
Tears, stirred by frustrated desire, welled in his eyes. Yet he did not dare complain or question.
Instead he could only wrap his arms around himself helplessly in the faint chill of the night wind.
The other man, however, seemed entirely indifferent.
Ignoring every movement of the one in his arms, he simply leaned back lazily. One hand braced behind him on the grass while the other idly twirled a loose strand of his long hair.
One leg bent upright at the knee, the other stretched languidly across the ground.
Futile Devices Scans 
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