By the time the Third Prince returned to his chambers, daylight had broken. The gauze curtains at his bedside, usually tied back, had been lowered.
He moved lightly to the bed and lifted the curtain. It was empty.
At once, danger flickered in his eyes.
Suddenly, darkness fell across his vision—a pair of soft hands covered his eyes.
“Guess who I am?” Mu Xueshi rasped deliberately in an aged voice.
The Third Prince had never played such childish games, yet from Mu Xueshi’s scent alone he knew who it was. What he could not understand was why Mu Xueshi dared such intimacy—an obvious offense—and what meaning lay behind this demand.
Mu Xueshi’s aim was simple: distraction. He had meant to slip back before the prince returned but ran straight into him instead. Seeing the curtain lifted, he had half a mind to leap out and shout, just to see how the perpetually cold-faced prince would react—but he lacked the courage. In the end, he settled for this childish ploy, hoping the prince might be slow in such matters.
The Third Prince raised a hand slowly. Before it reached halfway, Mu Xueshi’s hands withdrew with a swoosh. A moment longer and he feared his fingers might have been snapped.
When the prince turned, Mu Xueshi’s face had changed again—no longer breathtakingly beautiful, yet those lively eyes still shone with spirit.
“Where did you go?” the Third Prince asked coolly.
Mu Xueshi’s ears reddened at once. Though flustered, he waved a hand nonchalantly. “Nowhere. I was behind you the whole time, waiting to scare you.”
He pulled down his eyelids, stuck out his tongue, and made an exaggerated face.
Unexpectedly, the Third Prince did not pursue the matter. He simply turned and walked toward the study.
Mu Xueshi should have felt relieved. Instead, seeing the faint displeasure in the prince’s expression, he followed unconsciously, wanting to ask why. In his heart, aside from a certain ruthlessness, the Third Prince seemed decent enough—worth befriending. If he ever found his silver coin and returned to his own world, he might still come back to visit.
What Mu Xueshi did not know was that the Third Prince had gone to fetch a scroll—a record of punishments he himself had drafted.
The prince halted in the center of the room. Mu Xueshi halted too. The prince took two steps; Mu Xueshi mirrored them. When the prince stopped again, Mu Xueshi did the same without realizing.
He stared fixedly at the prince’s feet—yet in the blink of an eye, the prince stood before him. He had not seen him move at all.
Mu Xueshi’s eyes widened in admiration. If he ever returned home, he would have to learn some martial arts from this man. Showing off a few moves at school—how impressive that would be.
“Why are you following me?” the Third Prince asked.
Snapped from his thoughts, Mu Xueshi answered cautiously, “I saw Your Highness seemed unhappy. I wondered if my going out caused you trouble. After all, keeping a prisoner in your bedchamber, feeding him well… if word spread, it wouldn’t sound proper.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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