Feng Xuanyi had not expected an ordinary servant within his residence to speak so convincingly or understand the balance between profit and danger so clearly. He could not help viewing Ning Xuan in an entirely new light.
“This servant would never dare presume to interpret Your Highness’s thoughts. I am merely offering a hypothetical possibility. If even Your Highness, the Eldest Prince’s own brother, might join him while harboring such considerations, how much more so the other princes within the Crown Prince’s and Eldest Prince’s factions, who are united only by mutual benefit? How many of them truly follow without calculating their own gains is something even the Eldest Prince and the Crown Prince themselves may not understand. At present, the two factions are equally matched, which is why everyone remains still and appears united. But the moment one side begins to lose, the princes who once submitted will begin stirring and displaying their own abilities.”
“You certainly know a great deal.” Feng Xuanyi narrowed his eyes and continuously examined Ning Xuan as the boy spoke with his head lowered. No emotion could be heard in his voice. “You may leave.”
Ning Xuan jolted. He raised his head in astonishment and stared at the still-leisurely Feng Xuanyi, as though trying to determine from that eternally unreadable face whether the words were genuine.
Feeling Ning Xuan’s gaze, Feng Xuanyi raised his eyes. His lips curved into an alluring, ambiguous smile, and the way he looked at Ning Xuan sent a chill across the boy’s skin. “Reluctant to leave?”
Ning Xuan shuddered and immediately returned to his senses. At the same time, he realized that although this man was the incomparably exalted Prince Rong, he was also the outrageously shameless Yihua from the past several days. Seeing that suggestive, half-smiling gaze, Ning Xuan’s pale, exquisite face instantly turned crimson. Every ambiguous moment between them flooded back, making him tremble. He scrambled from the study almost on his hands and knees.
Once Ning Xuan disappeared from sight, the enigmatic smile upon Feng Xuanyi’s strong, handsome face instantly vanished, replaced by cold composure. “Change my clothes. I will bathe.”
At his command, the servants who had waited outside for some time entered one after another. One draped a cloak around Feng Xuanyi’s shoulders, while another walked ahead with a lantern to illuminate and guide his path.
Steam filled the air, carrying the faint fragrance of incense. Inside the enormous bathing pool, Feng Xuanyi stretched his arms lazily along the edge, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and released a soft sigh. Two beautiful maids with picturesque features stood to either side and attended him as he bathed. Their massages alternated between gentle and firm, and from time to time, they scooped handfuls of water over his arms resting along the pool’s edge—arms graceful in line and clearly muscled without appearing excessively bulky.
“Mo Yan.” A deep, magnetic male voice suddenly sounded inside the bathing chamber, where only the murmur of flowing water had previously been heard. Rather than seeming abrupt, it blended with the water and became even more soothing.
“This servant is here.” Despite the bathing chamber’s swirling steam and oppressive heat, Mo Yan stood nearby with lowered eyes and his hands respectfully at his sides, his clothing perfectly arranged and his expression as stiff as a coffin. Sweat continuously gathered at his temples, while his robes were soaked across the back, yet he remained completely motionless as though unaware of it.
“Investigate his background. Find out whether he has any remaining family.” Feng Xuanyi opened his eyes halfway, appearing contemplative. Although he did not specify whom he meant, Mo Yan, as his trusted subordinate, understood immediately and acknowledged the order. “Prepare some food and send it to him.”
Listening to Mo Yan’s footsteps fade into the distance, Feng Xuanyi leaned comfortably against the warm jade wall. The humid steam softened the chill within his deep, dark eyes, but did nothing to dull their sharpness. He stared aimlessly at the richly carved rafters for a long while before murmuring almost inaudibly, like a sigh, “Liu Yin.”
The maids, perpetually alert and quick-witted, immediately stopped their work. One signaled to the attendants waiting quietly nearby to take over, then withdrew to carry out the summons.
Meanwhile, Ning Xuan, who had been ordered to return to his room and rest, waited inside the enormous chamber for a long time without anyone attending to him. No message arrived explaining how he would be dealt with. At last, he relaxed slightly. Yet looking around the empty room—a private chamber fully equipped and far superior to his previous lodgings—he unexpectedly found it lonely. After only a moment, he began missing the days when he shared a room with Mo Qi. The two had experienced plenty of friction and required considerable adjustment before developing their present brotherly affection, eating, living, and going everywhere together. But at least Ning Xuan always had someone with whom he could speak. Most of their conversations involved teasing and fooling around rather than gentle concern, yet their laughter had dispelled much of the loneliness of being completely alone.
Ning Xuan opened the window and leaned against the sill, gazing toward the bright moon that had already risen. He could not help wondering what Mo Qi and Qing Zhu were doing. Were they eating? Were they discussing him again? Would they feel unaccustomed to his sudden absence? Would Mo Qi find the room lonely without anyone to speak with?
Cool night air poured into the room and made Ning Xuan shudder. He raised a hand and slapped himself without mercy. Damn it! What nonsense am I thinking?! I’ve completely entered maiden mode—becoming sentimental and grieving over spring and autumn!
But the thought of food made Ning Xuan lower his head miserably and rub his empty stomach, which had become so starved it no longer possessed the strength to protest. He had rushed here in a frantic panic. The moment he put down his belongings and briefly arranged them, he was dragged away to prepare and deliver tea. Then, through an absurd misunderstanding, he mistook his master for someone else and attempted to take revenge, only to strike the wrong person. As though that were not enough, he spoke carelessly about this and that until the master’s expression became unfathomable and Ning Xuan trembled with terror. In the end, he had enjoyed none of the fine food, drink, or abundant benefits everyone associated with this enviable position. He had not even received an opportunity to display his ingratiating talents before being frightened half to death. His calves were still trembling!
Watching the servants constantly crossing the courtyard as they busied themselves, Ning Xuan truly felt a little envious. It was not that servility had taken root within him. Sitting alone as though imprisoned, able only to wait and stare helplessly until someone decided his fate, was simply too tormenting.
Ning Xuan, whose imagination was operating at full force from boredom, was suddenly startled nearly senseless when the door opened and a stream of people filed inside.
He stared at the lavish table of food. Even setting aside its quality, the quantity of dish after dish could probably have saved an unknown number of starving people. Chicken, duck, fish, and meat were all present, together with exquisite seafood and countless dishes Ning Xuan had never seen and could not name. As the serving maids moved around, wave after wave of fragrance seemed to deliberately force its way into his nose. Ning Xuan was already so hungry that his chest practically touched his back and stars flashed before his eyes, yet he had to desperately restrain himself from pouncing forward and devouring everything. It felt as though a kitten were constantly scratching inside his heart, leaving him completely restless.
Clinging forcefully to the final remnants of his rationality, Ning Xuan directed his gaze toward Mo Yan, the residence’s steward, who had stood beside the table like a statue from the instant he entered, motionless and nearly devoid of presence.
“Steward Mo, may I ask what this is—” Ning Xuan’s trembling voice rose and stretched uncertainly. He muttered inwardly, They wouldn’t have prepared such an elaborate final meal before sending me to the Yellow Springs, would they? I’m only fifteen. I merely said a few wrong things, and I haven’t lived nearly enough. Please don’t!
Leave a Reply