Futile Devices Scans

Mu Xueshi’s hand was still waving before the Third Prince’s eyes when the prince suddenly reached out and pinched that tender, petal-soft cheek.

“Ah—!” Mu Xueshi cried out, his expression turning irresistibly adorable.

The prince did not withdraw his hand. Instead, he kneaded the same spot again and again. The skin beneath his fingers was smooth as jade, supple and elastic, impossibly soft.

In truth, when he had turned around moments earlier, the Third Prince had intended to “discipline” him. Yet for reasons he could not explain, his hand had acted of its own accord, reaching out not to punish—but to tease.

Mu Xueshi showed no trace of anger. On the contrary, he seemed delighted. In his eyes, this was yet another opportunity to curry favor.

At present, Mu Xueshi regarded the Third Prince as nothing short of utterly unpredictable—borderline unhinged. There was no point worrying about when he might grow furious or when he might laugh; every reaction was sudden and inexplicable. All Mu Xueshi needed to do was seize the right moment.

Thus, in the very next instant, he extended his own hand and retaliated—pinching the prince’s face firmly.

A faint purplish-red mark bloomed upon that devastatingly handsome countenance.

Mu Xueshi immediately regretted letting vengeance guide his strength. But when he saw the prince’s momentary stupefaction—his face now mottled red and pale in embarrassment—he could not hold back. A snort of laughter escaped him, mischief and shameless delight written plainly across his features.

For a fleeting second, the Third Prince felt dazed.

The image of a youth by the lakeside years ago surfaced in his mind—the boy whose single smile had stirred his heart at first sight. Could it be that after awakening, Mu Xueshi’s mind had yet to fully recover? Was that why he showed such unguarded innocence, such boyish candor before him?

There was no time to dwell on it.

The Third Prince stepped closer.

He pressed a light kiss to Mu Xueshi’s cheek, then slowly lowered his lips to his. What began as a gentle touch deepened without warning. He lingered there, tasting, coaxing, until Mu Xueshi’s lips parted beneath his insistence.

Mu Xueshi let out a soft murmur, eyes closed, his expression almost intoxicated—as though lost within the moment.

Though the Third Prince was no stranger to passion, this closeness with Mu Xueshi carried a different flavor altogether. His heartbeat quickened beyond control.

At last, the long kiss ended.

Yet something felt amiss.

From beginning to end, Mu Xueshi had not resisted. He had responded—but more as if guided by instinct rather than intent.

The prince’s broad hand cupped the back of his head as he studied that face—beautiful as a painting.

It took only a breath’s time to realize the truth.

Mu Xueshi had fallen asleep.

A surge of irritation flared within the Third Prince. He nearly struck him awake—but the sight of that peaceful sleeping face stilled his hand. He could not bear to see pain or fear mar that serene expression.

In the end, he silently dressed himself.

Under the vast curtain of night, he moved like the wind, and in the blink of an eye carried Mu Xueshi back to the sleeping chamber.

Upon the vast bed, two unparalleled beauties lay entwined.

One lay motionless, eyes closed in feigned rest; the other slept deeply, lips moving faintly as though murmuring in dreams.

A question lingered in the prince’s heart.

Who, exactly, was the person beside him? Even his manner of sleeping had changed so drastically.

As the thought settled, the Third Prince’s eyes snapped open.

With swift precision, he seized a shard of veined jade from the brocade box beside his pillow and flicked it through the narrow gap in the window lattice.

With no paper covering to slow it—and propelled by formidable inner strength—the jade shard cut through the night like a blade.

A heavy thud sounded outside.

Since this residence had been bestowed upon him, no person or creature had ever trespassed within its bounds—let alone approached his bedchamber. To infiltrate this forbidden place under Su Ruhan’s watchful eye, the intruder must possess significant backing.

The prince had deliberately avoided striking a fatal point, nor did he bother to pursue. By tomorrow, Su Ruhan would present the intruder’s identity and background.

There was no need to trouble himself further.

What truly interested him was something else entirely—

By dawn, would Mu Xueshi’s temperament change again?

Or would he awaken wearing yet another face?

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