The man showed no concern for Ning Xuan’s hostile tone. Still smiling, he rose readily and surrendered the seat, then sat down in Ning Xuan’s original place instead.
Ning Xuan was left speechless. He had assumed this treatment would drive the man away, but apparently, a pleasant temper was not nearly as frightening as shamelessness.
He dropped angrily onto the wooden chair and abruptly straightened his back, nearly grinding his teeth to pieces as he suppressed the cry of pain threatening to escape. Heaven knew how much it hurt to throw oneself down furiously upon a wooden stool without any cushion!
“Brother, don’t just sit there. Pass me my brush, ink, paper, and inkstone…” Ning Xuan had changed seats out of spite, while all his supplies remained in front of this stranger he had met only once. He had not wanted to speak to him, but after signaling with his eyes for quite some time and receiving no response, Ning Xuan cursed inwardly, Completely incapable of reading the room. No wonder he can only work as a guard.
After retrieving his pile of supplies and the book he had only copied halfway, Ning Xuan lowered his head and resumed writing furiously, tracing each stroke of the ghostly yet inexplicably familiar characters.
Silence returned. The crackle of the candle and the soft scratching of the brush against rice paper could be heard clearly throughout the library. It was almost as though Ning Xuan were alone again.
“May I ask what business you have here?” Ning Xuan raised his head and produced his most natural, friendly, amiable, and approachable smile. His voice was gentle, as though he feared frightening the man who had been sitting opposite him in silence, smiling and staring at him without pause.
The man rested his cheek upon one hand, smiling so broadly that his eyes had nearly narrowed into lines. Yet the instant Ning Xuan’s smile met his gaze, he froze and said nothing.
A darkened forehead, throbbing veins at the temple, and a twitching brow—these were all signs that Ning Xuan’s strained patience was approaching its limit.
Bang!
His palm violently “kissed” the fine sandalwood table. The freshly ground, watery ink inside the inkstone splashed innocently in every direction as Ning Xuan shot to his feet.
“What the hell do you want?!” Ning Xuan roared, his bright black eyes appearing capable of spraying flames.
The man did not so much as move an eyebrow. He remained seated as steadily as a mountain, one hand supporting his chin and the other resting upon the table, tapping rhythmically against its surface.
“Nothing. I’m only looking.” He answered casually and swept his gaze around the room, as though proving that he merely wished to examine the surroundings. Then his eyes returned to Ning Xuan. He met Ning Xuan’s dark gaze with apparent innocence, though a sly brilliance flowed beneath it.
Ning Xuan’s anger surged. As a man, he did not particularly fear women throwing themselves at him, but the thought of another man taking an interest in him was rather difficult to endure. People needed faces just as trees needed bark. How could someone conduct such blatant “voyeurism” with such righteous confidence? Moreover, this was a man he had met only once—a man whose first words to Ning Xuan had been to tell him to look in a mirror and wash his face! True, he possessed a handsome face with sword-like brows and starry eyes, one so attractive it would be wasted if he did not work as a host, but that was hardly enough reason for Ning Xuan to tolerate everything.
Ning Xuan was about to speak when the man straightened, lowered his head with an innocent and faintly pitying expression, and casually pointed with the hand that had been supporting his chin. Ning Xuan followed the gesture downward and immediately released a miserable howl.
This was fatal. The handwritten reproduction that had only been slightly blurred and nearly completed moments ago had instantly transformed into an abstract ink-wash painting. Heaven knew how much time and effort Ning Xuan had poured into this book, in which he possessed absolutely no interest. He had endured hunger, aching shoulders, back pain, and cramping legs while patiently sitting here and tracing every character to “cultivate his refinement.” Yet in the blink of an eye, the approaching dawn had transformed into a dying sunset, leaving behind limitless desolation.
“Although I still don’t know what to call you, I think you should lower your voice. If someone comes over, they might think I did something to you,” the man kindly reminded him. “After all, although everyone in Prince Rong’s Residence privately understands such matters, no one except the master is permitted to engage in them openly.”
The man’s words were no different from pouring oil upon a fire. Ning Xuan already carried both new and old grievances, had been dropped into this chaotic world where explanations were useless, and now faced an unknown guard who seemed eager to add trouble where none existed. Ning Xuan stepped forward, seized the man by the front of his robe, and glared down at him through gritted teeth. “You haven’t done anything to me?! You ruined the book I spent the entire night repairing!”
Ning Xuan cursed himself for being needlessly kind. He had imagined the visitor might be a fellow unfortunate servant who had gotten lost and had felt duty-bound to help him. Instead, he had invited a godforsaken harbinger of disaster through the door, and the man had immediately turned everything into a complete mess.
The man appeared unable to agree with Ning Xuan’s accusation but hesitant to speak while Ning Xuan was behaving so aggressively. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“If you have something to say, say it! If not, get the hell out!” Although furious, Ning Xuan had not entirely lost his reason. He kept his voice suppressed as he spoke resentfully. He had no time to exchange riddles with a stranger.
The man froze, then seemed to make a decision. He answered innocently, “From beginning to end, I sat here without moving. Your book was ruined entirely by the palm you slammed down. What does that have to do with me?”
Silence would have been better. The instant he spoke, Ning Xuan became so furious that his liver hurt. He had truly invited this suffering upon himself.
“Then shut your mouth!” Ning Xuan said through clenched teeth, emphasizing every word.
He sat down dejectedly and stared bitterly at the several pages upon the table, now dark, filthy, and chaotic. He did not even know what he ought to write to repair them. If Xiao Tang learned what had happened, he would surely butcher Ning Xuan. Raising his eyes toward the two books placed nearby, Ning Xuan felt that his future was completely devoid of light.
Suddenly, inspiration flashed, and his eyes moved. Keeping his head lowered, he silently tugged at his stiff facial muscles.
“Can you… read?” Ning Xuan raised his head with a brilliant smile that completely overwhelmed the room’s only light source, dazzling enough to make others avert their eyes for fear of injury. Although he knew the hope was faint, he had to try. Perhaps the man could become a useful laborer.
His question received no answer. The man stared woodenly at Ning Xuan’s brilliant smile, completely still and seemingly oblivious.
Damn it! Why are you pretending to be profound now of all times?!
Ning Xuan’s brow twitched, and his smile instantly distorted, though he desperately maintained it. “Can—you—hear me?” He waved a hand before the man’s eyes. “Nod if you can hear me, all right?” He coaxed him like a grandmother wolf luring a child.
The man responded very quickly this time. Unfortunately, that response immediately made Ning Xuan explode again.
“Damn it! If you could hear me, why were you pretending to be deaf?!”
The man looked innocent. “You told me to shut my mouth.”
Ning Xuan lunged forward and seized the man’s robe with both hands—
Calm down… Calm down… We can discuss this peacefully. I still need his help. If he turns out to be useless, it won’t be too late to beat him afterward!
Using what could generously be described as a “gentle” touch, Ning Xuan “lightly” smoothed the front of the robe he had crumpled. He forced his expression back into place and patiently asked again, “Can you read?”
“Yes,” the man answered.
Ning Xuan examined him from head to toe. “Are you busy right now?”
The man shook his head. “No.”
Seeing the man’s complete lack of initiative, Ning Xuan erupted once again. “Then what are you still sitting there for?!”
He threw the ink-splattered book and a brush directly in front of the man. All trace of his smile vanished. Ning Xuan straightened his back, planted one hand upon his waist, and pointed at the book with the other. His phoenix eyes widened until he resembled a shrew cursing in the street.
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