Futile Devices Scans

Yi Hua watched as Ning Xuan plunged headfirst into the water, the corners of his lips twitching involuntarily.

At last catching his breath, Ning Xuan lifted his head, raising a hand to wipe away the water clinging to his lips and face. Even as he did so, he smacked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of the water chestnut cake—its exquisite texture and flavor still fresh upon his tongue.

“Good?” Yi Hua asked, helpless.

“Of course~” Ning Xuan replied with a cheerful grin. Reaching out, he picked up a piece of jujube-walnut cake. This time, he had learned his lesson—no longer wolfing it down in one bite as before, but instead nibbling at it slowly, mouthful by mouthful. He thought to himself that although this man often spoke nonsense and did things equally unrestrained, his nature did not seem bad—one might even say he was rather loyal and upright.

As the saying goes, when you take from others, your hand is shortened; when you eat from others, your mouth is softened. At this very moment, Ning Xuan was both eating and taking—finding it difficult not to revise his impression of Yi Hua.

“So now you’ve learned your lesson. Truly, one doesn’t shed tears until one sees the coffin,” Yi Hua said with a smile.

Ning Xuan could not help but mutter inwardly—as expected of a fallen young master. Even now, making a living by selling his labor as a guard, he still could not resist showing off his scholarly airs from time to time.

“Better to die full than starve to death—don’t you understand that?” Ning Xuan huffed in dissatisfaction, his mouth still stuffed with cake.

“You’re full after just one piece? You’re far too easy to raise,” Yi Hua teased, barely suppressing his laughter as he feigned surprise.

The more Yi Hua spoke, the more excessive he became. Ning Xuan, who had originally intended to treat him kindly, now found his patience worn thin by this inch-gaining behavior. His large, bright phoenix eyes rolled as he snapped, “Isn’t it all because of you? Your cursed crow’s mouth! What you say never comes true when it’s good, but always when it’s bad. You’d better go back to wherever you came from!”

“Tsk tsk, burning the bridge after crossing it. You haven’t even finished eating, your stomach isn’t full yet, and you already have the strength to argue with me—sigh…” Yi Hua sighed, putting on the look of someone lamenting iron that refused to become steel.

Rendered speechless, Ning Xuan could only turn grief into appetite, burying his head as he began devouring the pastries with renewed vigor.

“Mm—!”

Heaven damn it—why had his luck been so terrible lately? When he ate in big bites, he choked; when he tried to be refined and take small bites like a gentle lady, he ended up biting his own tongue!

One hand clutched his mouth as he whimpered in pain, his bright phoenix eyes misting over with tears. Yet his other hand stubbornly refused to release the bundle of pastries, holding on with unwavering determination.

Meanwhile, Yi Hua, seated leisurely and enjoying the morning breeze, looked on with complete calm at Ning Xuan’s pitiful state. Having already guessed a few things, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Covering his mouth, Ning Xuan raised his eyes and shot him what he believed to be a fierce glare—though, given his tearful expression and misty gaze, it lost most of its intended effect.

It’s all because of your cursed mouth, you walking jinx! Ever since I met you, nothing but misfortune—just for taking advantage of a bit of your food, I either choke or bite myself!

Though his resentment was silent, Yi Hua appeared utterly innocent.

Suddenly, Yi Hua leaned forward.

He reached out, gently fixing Ning Xuan’s chin in place and tilting it upward, adjusting his posture so their gazes met.

As that handsome face drew nearer and nearer, Ning Xuan found himself unable to react. A faint sense of déjà vu stirred within him, leaving his body stiff. By the time the distance between them vanished entirely—when their warm breaths intermingled, when even the fine pores of the other’s face became visible—the familiar heat upon his lips caused his mind to freeze completely.

The touch was warm and soft—not at all as cold and distant as Yi Hua’s demeanor suggested. His thin lips burned with startling heat, and the agile softness of his tongue was even more astonishing. With patient care, it traced the shape of Ning Xuan’s lips, effortlessly prying open his stiffened teeth and advancing straight in. Bold, yet not without restraint, it explored his mouth thoroughly before carefully attaching to the tip of Ning Xuan’s tongue, lightly licking away a trace of metallic sweetness.

One hand held Ning Xuan’s jaw firmly in place, preventing escape—though in truth, Ning Xuan was too stunned to resist. The other hand slid smoothly to encircle the youth’s slender waist, so delicate it seemed one could grasp it in a single hold.

The invasion was unhurried, the force perfectly controlled, the technique fluid and experienced—as though guided by instinct born of long familiarity. Ning Xuan could not help but feel dazed. Truly, men were creatures of the senses—no matter how resolute their will or how clear their mind, once they lost the initiative at the very beginning and fell into the hands of someone so skilled in such arts, they were bound to be led by the nose.

At last, as though satisfied, Yi Hua ended the kiss, though not without lingering reluctance. One corner of his lips lifted in his signature smile as he looked at Ning Xuan, whose face was flushed red and who had yet to recover his senses.

Turning his gaze slightly, Yi Hua glanced toward the eastern horizon, where the sun was gradually rising. With a soft sigh tinged with regret, he murmured, “I have matters to attend to—this is as far as I can go.”

Lowering his head gently, he tenderly licked away a crumb of pastry remaining at the corner of Ning Xuan’s lips. Then he raised his head again, meeting Ning Xuan’s dark pupils, his handsome eyes narrowing slightly as he said, “Very sweet.”

With that, he withdrew his hand, stood up, and turned away without hesitation. Only after that tall, elegant figure disappeared from sight did Ning Xuan stiffly begin to process what had just happened.

Heaven knew—compared to this, that “kiss” from yesterday was nothing more than children at play! Yesterday’s fleeting brush of lips had already dealt him quite the blow, yet within a mere few hours, it had escalated into a deep, lingering kiss of entwined lips and tongues!

If before he could still stand his ground with righteous words and lecture Yi Hua not to push his luck or act recklessly, now—

Now, just as he thought, this was nothing more than a “stranger” he had met only three times. And yet, in those three encounters, they had already shared physical contact thrice—two of which were intimately close. And this time… he had completely lost even the confidence to curse or protest.

Heaven knew—why, of all things, had he actually become intoxicated by a man’s kiss so early in the morning?!

Even the strength to feel indignant left him. Wearing a bitter expression, Ning Xuan drifted back toward the Library Chamber like a wandering ghost. Seeing Mo Qi and Qing Zhu inside, busy with their work, he felt tears welling in his eyes—yet found himself unable to speak.

“So fast? Finished airing the books already?” Qing Zhu looked up. Upon seeing Ning Xuan’s dazed, ethereal expression, a chill ran down the back of his neck.

“Ah? Mm.” Ning Xuan nodded blankly.

This is bad… Could it be that crossing over really damaged my brain as well? Could it be…

At the absurd thought, Ning Xuan shook his head vigorously like a rattle drum.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“No idea.”

Meanwhile, Mo Qi and Qing Zhu exchanged puzzled looks. Though it was said that poor children grew up early—and especially for children like them, who had been sold into servitude and lacked autonomy, becoming mature beyond their years—they were still children at heart.

Sharp-eyed, Qing Zhu quickly spotted the white paper bundle in Ning Xuan’s hands.

“What’s that?” he asked, stepping forward. Ning Xuan did not object, allowing him to take it. Upon opening it, Qing Zhu’s face lit up instantly—just like Ning Xuan earlier—his mouth nearly watering.

“Oh, those are pastries. Go ahead and eat,” Ning Xuan said, taking a seat and pouring himself a cup of water to calm his mind.

“Really?” Qing Zhu asked eagerly, calling Mo Qi over to join him. Yet faced with such delicate pastries, he hesitated, unsure how to begin. “Something this good… you didn’t steal it because you were starving, did you?”

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