Futile Devices Scans

Ning Xuan rolled his eyes at Yi Hua, clearly unwilling to waste words on him. After a moment’s thought, he let out a soft sigh.

“If I were Prince Rong, I definitely wouldn’t help that elder brother of his—nor would I side with the Crown Prince .”

“Oh? Then what would you do?” Yi Hua asked, his smile deepening. As for how much of that smile truly reached his eyes—only he himself knew.

Ning Xuan glanced at him, seeing that seemingly earnest, smiling face as though humbly seeking advice, and spoke without much concern:

“How foolish. Since the current Crown Prince is neither the eldest nor born of the Empress, but merely the son of a favored consort, that’s why the entire court is filled with debate—pushing for the ‘legitimate line’ in the name of propriety.”

“Then why wouldn’t the Fifth Prince, Prince Rong, who is also of legitimate birth, be suitable?”

“Besides, the Emperor originally intended to establish the Second Prince, which shows he doesn’t truly care about strict birth order. In that case, those who support legitimacy and thus support the Eldest Prince, Prince Yi—why couldn’t they become a force backing Prince Rong instead?”

Ning Xuan spoke with confidence and clarity.

What had begun as casual listening caused Yi Hua to gradually draw in his expression, his gaze settling once more upon Ning Xuan. It was no longer mere curiosity—but something sharper, more guarded.

Yet Ning Xuan, having opened the floodgates of his thoughts, noticed none of this.

He continued freely, his tone shifting as his phoenix eyes narrowed into a sly line, an unmistakable cunning glint within them:

“Of course, acting openly wouldn’t be wise. If it were me, I’d feign ignorance—pretend to be deaf and foolish, make a show of submitting first…”

“…and then secretly advance one’s plans. That would be the superior strategy.”

As he spoke, Ning Xuan suddenly seemed to realize something.

His voice cut off abruptly.

His eyes turned wary, tinged with panic, as he looked toward Yi Hua—who still sat there as though entirely uninvolved.

Leaving aside the fact that he had just been discussing court politics—

For a mere servant to speak of his master behind his back alone was enough to warrant death many times over.

If such words were to spread, causing trouble—or worse, affecting the master’s standing—

Even the lives of his entire family might not be enough to pay the price.

“Haha… just pretend I didn’t say anything—and you didn’t hear anything either,” Ning Xuan said hastily, forcing a laugh.

“In return, I’ll treat you to a meal later—whatever you want!”

Even at such a critical moment, he did not forget to attempt a bit of material bribery.

Just then—

The tightly shut doors of the study were suddenly pushed open.

A young attendant, about Ning Xuan’s age, entered without sparing him even a glance—as though he did not exist. He walked forward respectfully, stopped before the desk, and knelt, lowering his gaze.

“Master, the bathwater has been prepared.”

M-Master? Where?!

Ning Xuan froze instantly.

Before he could even turn to search for the so-called “master,” a quiet response sounded above him—soft, yet clear enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Especially Ning Xuan.

The voice struck him like thunder, leaving him dizzy and stunned—petrified on the spot.

“Mm.”

A simple reply, devoid of emotion—yet enough for every attendant present to understand.

The servant bowed again and withdrew, leaving the room once more in silence.

Dead silence.

Ning Xuan was utterly shaken.

His legs gave way beneath him, and with a heavy thud, he collapsed to his knees on the floor.

His face was filled with disbelief—as though the heavens had collapsed upon him—as he stared at the man before him.

Yi Hua.

The Fifth Prince of the current Emperor.

Prince Rong—

Feng Xuanyi.

“Y-you… you’re Prince Rong?!”

The words escaped him in a trembling whisper—so unsteady they scarcely sounded human.

Feng Xuanyi neither confirmed nor denied, idly toying with the teacup in his hand as though he had heard nothing at all of Ning Xuan’s words. From time to time, he took a leisurely sip.

Yet when he lifted his gaze once more and met Ning Xuan’s disbelieving dark eyes, the frivolous, carefree demeanor he had shown before was gone.

Though a faint smile still lingered at the corners of his lips—one Ning Xuan had grown all too familiar with, and had come to detest—it now felt entirely different.

It was distant. Noble. Lofty beyond reach.

A cold, unfathomable depth that could neither be read nor understood—one could only stand in trepidation, awaiting judgment.

“Though I would have preferred to pretend I heard nothing, and that nothing had happened,” he said slowly, “your words have piqued my interest.”

“In truth, I find myself wanting to ask why—and even more, to hear your views.”

Within a few sentences, his form of address had already shifted, the authority of command unmistakable.

“I wonder whether this Prince might have the honor of hearing them.”

Ning Xuan lowered his head, inwardly crying out that disaster had struck.

If he could still move freely under that oppressive gaze, he would not hesitate to slap himself across the face for speaking so carelessly without understanding the situation.

For so many days, he had endured in silence—keeping a low profile in both word and deed. When interacting with others, he spoke as little as possible, even allowing himself to be labeled aloof and difficult.

Yet despite all his caution—

Before the one person he absolutely should not have spoken before—

He had let everything spill out, unchecked and unrestrained.

Ning Xuan’s face crumpled in misery, wishing he could dig a hole and bury himself on the spot.

But judging from the situation—

Perhaps he would not even need to dig the hole himself.

Someone else would have one prepared, just waiting to bury him.

“I—”

After struggling for a long while, Ning Xuan could only force out that single word, stumbling over it awkwardly.

Above him came the faint sound of porcelain touching.

Then—

A soft, ambiguous chuckle.

“What is it?” Feng Xuanyi said lightly. “Just moments ago, you spoke so eloquently, your thoughts flowing like a spring—and now you’ve turned mute?”

Thinking back on everything that had happened—how just moments ago he had still been gloating, laughing at Yi Hua for “going mute”—only for the situation to reverse in the blink of an eye—

And worse—

He had even, without a second thought, flicked his own master on the forehead—

Ning Xuan felt as though the heavens had collapsed.

Even if he possessed a silver tongue capable of bringing the dead to speech and talking the living into death, it would not be enough to save him now.

He cursed himself inwardly for his blindness.

Such a great figure had been coming and going by his side for so long—and he had not noticed at all. Not only that, he had barked at him, thrown him looks, even treated him with open disdain.

Only now did he finally understand why Mo Qi would often say he lacked sense, and why even Qing Zhu—whom he had always thought careless and impulsive—had looked upon him with such sympathy.

He had always dismissed it.

Now, it seemed—if he wasn’t lacking in sense, then what was he?

Desperately, he tried to recall every interaction between the two of them, hoping to gauge whether any chance of survival remained.

But the more he thought, the worse it seemed.

Closing his eyes, clenching his teeth—

Since there was no way out either way, he might as well face it head-on.

When he raised his eyes again, the fear that had filled them before was gone.

In its place was resolve—unyielding and decisive.

This change caused Feng Xuan Yi’s gaze to sharpen slightly, ripples of something indescribable stirring within his eyes.

“At present, the open and covert struggle between the Eldest Prince and the Crown Prince is already plain for all to see.”

“If at this moment another party—or even several—were to step forward and join the contest, it would not be impossible. It would only serve to further complicate the situation, making the outcome even more difficult to predict.”

“But regardless of who steps forward now, it would not be a wise move.”

“When two tigers fight, one is bound to be injured—and mutual destruction is not impossible.”

“Thus, to sit upon the mountain and watch the tigers fight, and reap the fisherman’s profit, would be the superior strategy.”

Having resigned himself, Ning Xuan spoke everything in one breath—pouring it all out without reservation.

“Moreover, Your Highness is the full-blooded younger brother of the Eldest Prince.”

“If you were to step forward now, opposing the Crown Prince would be expected—but at the same time, it would also mean openly standing in opposition to the Eldest Prince.”

“Such conflict between blood brothers would chill the hearts of many within the court—those who might otherwise lean toward Your Highness, as well as those still wavering and observing.”

“That would be no different from weakening your own strength—only to prepare the wedding robes for another.”

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