Futile Devices Scans

A perfectly good meal left Ning Xuan with nothing but a belly full of anger.

He cursed his recent misfortune inwardly—one absurd incident after another, each more inexplicable than the last. Especially today’s affair—it was utterly ridiculous. Heaven only knew what kind of exalted figure the Fifth Prince, Prince Rong, truly was—a man so lofty that Ning Xuan would rather avoid him at all costs.

And yet somehow—somehow—they had become entangled.

And not only that—but in such a “fortunate” way!

For no reason at all, he had even been subjected to others’ scornful glances.

With a straw stem clamped between his teeth, Ning Xuan chewed resentfully as he staggered along, arms full of books. Swaying and stumbling, he made his way to the lotus pond, plopping down heavily in his usual spot.

With a loud bang, he dropped the books and began flipping through them aimlessly, page after page.

“What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?”

Suddenly—thwack!—a sharp rap landed on his head.

Ning Xuan immediately scrunched up his face, clutching his aching forehead as tears welled in his eyes.

Turning back with a pained expression, he saw—just as expected—the very same calamity incarnate.

At once, his heart filled with bitterness.

Yi Hua, upon seeing Ning Xuan’s pitiful, on-the-verge-of-tears expression, could not help but pause.

Those slightly upturned phoenix eyes, brimming with unshed tears, paired with that aggrieved yet stubborn demeanor—Ning Xuan himself remained unaware of just how captivating and soul-stirring such a sight was.

“Look at you—who’s upset you after just one day apart?” Yi Hua asked with a faint smile.

Ning Xuan clenched his teeth.

Pretending not to hear, he turned back around and continued laying out his books to dry, muttering inwardly: Out of sight, out of mind.

“I didn’t offend you, did I?” Yi Hua crouched beside him, a helpless smile tugging at his lips.

Had he not spoken, it might have been fine.

But the moment he did, Ning Xuan’s anger surged even more fiercely.

Even if it had only been said casually, keeping one’s word was the very foundation of being human. Yesterday, it was he who said he would come—yet it was also he who left Ning Xuan waiting in vain.

Though, in truth, Ning Xuan knew that taking it seriously had been his own mistake—

Still, it was Yi Hua who had carelessly stirred the matter in the first place.

Thinking thus, Ning Xuan grew even more unwilling to acknowledge him. Even though he tried to ignore him, he could not help but catch sight of Yi Hua’s faintly smiling, helpless expression.

With a sharp turn, he simply gave him his back.

Yi Hua, watching Ning Xuan sulk for reasons unknown, found himself neither able to laugh nor grow angry.

Since birth, no one had ever dared treat him this way.

Those around him had always exhausted every possible means to curry favor and please him—yet here was someone who, when treated kindly, refused to appreciate it!

Raised in luxury, accustomed to being cherished and doted upon, Yi Hua’s pride would not allow such disregard.

He suddenly stood, anger flashing within his eyes—though Ning Xuan, with his back turned, noticed nothing, continuing to flip through his books indifferently.

When no conciliatory words came, Yi Hua’s expression turned cold. With a sharp flick of his sleeve, he turned to leave without another word.

Yet after only a few steps, he stopped.

He turned back.

After a long moment of silent hesitation, as though wrestling with himself, he finally reached into his robes and took out a delicately crafted paper parcel—identical to the one from yesterday morning.

Without a word, he tossed it at Ning Xuan’s feet—

Then turned and left.

Hearing the retreating footsteps behind him, Ning Xuan glanced down at the familiar parcel by his feet.

His teeth clenched in anger.

Damn it! Does he take me for some beggar?!

He had broken his word and failed to keep his promise—yet now he thought a few pieces of pastry could settle the matter just like that?!

Hah! These so-called “learned” men—every last one of them is insufferable! Either they spend their days flattering others for fame and gain, or they’re so stiff-necked and arrogant they can’t even utter a single “sorry”!

With a disdainful snort, Ning Xuan kicked the parcel aside.

As if nothing had happened, he continued airing his books.

What he did not know was this:

Those seemingly ordinary pastries—refined and delicate—were made from the rarest of ingredients, obtained only through great effort and care. They were akin to celestial delicacies, flavors that countless people might spend a lifetime without ever tasting.

Nor did he know—

To Yi Hua, a “promise” had always been nothing more than an empty words. It had never held any deeper meaning.

To obtain his promise was easy.

But to make him keep it—to see it fulfilled—was another matter entirely.

As for apology… lowering his head in admission of fault—

That was something unheard of, unseen—a wonder of the realm that existed only in legend.

Yet, this was a matter for later.

At present, Ning Xuan neither knew nor could know—and in the future, even if he came to understand, it would already be beyond his power to change.

Carrying a stack of sun-dried books back to the Library Pavilion, Ning Xuan saw that the sun had already dipped below the horizon. Lamps were being lit one after another throughout the various courtyards and residences.

After a full day’s labor, fatigue showed plainly on everyone’s faces.

The moment Mo Qi and Qing Zhu saw Ning Xuan return, both of them wore expressions as though they had seen a ghost. They stammered for a long while before finally forcing out a few words:

“Y-you… why are you still here?”

Hearing this, Ning Xuan felt like rolling on the ground in exasperation.

What have I come to?

It was one thing for the other attendants and maids to cast strange looks at him, whispering and making snide remarks—but now even his own brothers were eager to push him out?

“Why wouldn’t I be here? Isn’t it always like this every day?” Ning Xuan shot them an annoyed glare.

“This—this is different now! Disobeying orders like this—are you tired of living?” Qing Zhu said anxiously, sweat forming on his forehead.

Yet Ning Xuan acted as though nothing were amiss, calmly returning the books to their proper places.

“What orders? I’ve been perfectly obedient. Don’t go slapping baseless accusations on me,” he replied.

As he placed a book back onto the shelf, a cloud of dust rose, making him sneeze repeatedly. I really need to clean this place tomorrow, he thought to himself.

Qing Zhu and Mo Qi exchanged helpless glances, both their expressions stiff and awkward.

At that very moment, the steward in charge of the Library Pavilion, Xiao Tang, rushed in through the door.

He looked as though calamity were upon him—his steps hurried, his face drenched in sweat, not even having time to wipe it away. His breath came in ragged gasps as his sharp, darting eyes swept the room.

Spotting Ning Xuan—barely visible behind layers of bookshelves, only a corner of his robe peeking out—Xiao Tang’s anxious expression instantly brightened. His dark pupils seemed to gleam in the candlelight as his face broke into an ingratiating, almost servile smile.

In a few quick strides, he rushed over.

“Oh, my little ancestor! I’ve finally found you—you’ve nearly scared me to death!”

Only then did Xiao Tang lift his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Seeing this, Qing Zhu and Mo Qi were nearly bursting from holding back laughter.

This Xiao Tang—who normally strutted about arrogantly, throwing his weight around—was now acting so cautious, so ingratiating, smiling warmly at someone he usually disdained and even took pleasure in bullying.

The contrast was simply too much.

The two of them trembled from suppressed laughter, their lungs aching, their faces flushed red. Yet rank and status dictated all—a higher rank crushes those below.

Thus, they could only lower their heads, stealing glances at Xiao Tang’s awkward display, their shoulders shaking like sieves sifting grain.

“Steward Tang ,” Ning Xuan said, setting aside his work and turning to bow respectfully, his manner outwardly humble and proper.

But how could he possibly miss the trembling shoulders behind him?

Damn it, he cursed inwardly. You two get to stand there enjoying the show, laughing yourselves silly—while I’m the one stuck here dealing with this and putting on a performance for your amusement!

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