“Your Highness.” With the doors and windows tightly shut, a low male voice sounded from nowhere. Yet when one looked up, he was already kneeling respectfully before them, his appearance as if he had materialized out of thin air.
Feng Xuanyi and He Yin seemed as though they had heard nothing. Feng Xuanyi continued to eat and drink at his leisure, while He Yin’s cheeks carried a faint flush, as if lightly intoxicated. A trace of hazy intoxication rose in her bright morning eyes as she leaned bonelessly against Feng Xuanyi, occasionally serving him food with attentive care. Feng Xuanyi, well accustomed to it, leaned forward and ate bite after bite from He Yin’s chopsticks, the scene one of tender affection and intimate harmony.
Feng Xuanyi raised his brows slightly to indicate he understood, then waved his hand to signal him to rise.
Though he kept his head lowered the entire time, it was as if he had taken in everything within the room. Xuanji rose, then retreated respectfully to stand by the door, lowering his gaze and restraining his presence. If one were not paying attention, he might have been mistaken for a statue guarding the entrance.
“This lord need not be so restrained,” He Yin said lightly from Feng Xuanyi’s embrace, addressing the statue-like Xuanji by the door. “Why not come over and sit, have something to eat and drink? If you find it dull, I can summon a few of my sisters to attend you. Standing there silently like that makes it seem as though our establishment does not know how to treat its guests properly, neglecting a distinguished visitor. If Madam finds out, she will surely blame me~”
With a delicate, charming smile, she raised her hand, her sleeve flowing gracefully as it lifted, half-hiding her face in a coy gesture, yet perfectly revealing a pair of cold, captivating, soul-stealing dark eyes.
Xuanji said nothing, as though he could hear nothing but Feng Xuanyi’s voice. He stood tall and straight, handsome and composed, his hands hanging respectfully at his sides. At his left waist hung a long sword, its iron-gray scabbard concealing all the sharpness within.
“This time, I need you to make a trip to the frontier,” Feng Xuanyi said, grabbing He Yin’s hands that were playfully interfering, while continuing to savor the dishes—which, though refined, still paled compared to the delicacies of the prince’s residence—as if quite satisfied. He spoke unhurriedly, almost as if talking to himself, “Go and tell Prince Yu: winning a great victory is certainly good, and winning splendidly is worthy of praise. But he has only just come of age, and he is still merely a prince raised within the palace. He must avoid going too far in all things. Have him carefully recall what I told him before I departed.”
“Yes.” The statue-like Xuanji came back to himself and bowed respectfully.
“Return and prepare your things, then set off immediately. Be mindful of your movements,” Feng Xuanyi added a few extra instructions. The events at court earlier that day were still vivid in his mind. Though he had shown nothing, he understood clearly: every move in the Imperial Study, every word and expression of the emperor, the Crown Prince seemed to grasp entirely. Even the number of memorials entering and leaving, and their contents—perhaps the Crown Prince knew them even earlier than the emperor himself. Every word had been prepared in advance, every sentence struck precisely at the heart of the matter. He could not help but be cautious. “Go have Mo Yan draw more silver from the residence for you to take along. When you arrive, properly reward Prince Yu’s deputy generals and subordinates. As for what to say to them and how to say it—you should know.”
“Xuanji understands.” With that, the man who had just been standing there vanished in the blink of an eye, without a trace—just as mysteriously as he had appeared. The doors and windows remained tightly shut, as though everything just now had been nothing more than Feng Xuanyi speaking to himself.
At the same time, He Yin—who had just moments ago been soft and alluring—instantly returned to her original demeanor. Her smile faded, the flush on her cheeks disappeared, and the hand that had been mid-motion serving food simply lowered. She straightened up, as though the gentle, affectionate woman from before had been someone else entirely, leaving behind only a cold and aloof presence.
The food that had been about to reach his mouth was abruptly interrupted, yet Feng Xuanyi showed no concern whatsoever. There was not even the slightest hint of displeasure at being neglected, despite his status as a prince—perhaps he was already long accustomed to it.
Having eaten and drunk his fill, Feng Xuanyi set down his chopsticks, propped his head on one hand, and turned slightly to look at He Yin, his eyes full of amusement, like a cat that had just stolen a taste of cream. After a long while, he finally said slowly, “How do you intend to repay me?”
“I have already brought Your Highness enough people to win over—more than enough to cover even the interest,” He Yin said indifferently, showing no concern at all. She casually took the teacup Feng Xuanyi had used, gently blew away the rising steam, and used the lid to brush aside the tea leaves floating on the surface. Taking a light sip, she remarked, “It truly is fine tea. Though it is indeed rather expensive, compared to eight parts heat, I prefer six parts fragrance.”
Feng Xuanyi neither agreed nor disagreed, yet showed no displeasure. However, his sudden motion of rising to leave caught He Yin off guard.
“Your Highness is returning to the residence so early?” He Yin’s dark eyes widened, her face filled with surprise.
“If He Yin were to yield to me, I naturally would be reluctant to leave,” Feng Xuanyi replied, turning back. What should have been a lecherous smile carried instead a trace of frivolity, yet was oddly captivating and alluring upon his face.
He Yin paid it no mind. As a courtesan—and one famed throughout the land—it was already strange enough that she still remained a maiden. Moreover, among her patrons was the Fifth Prince, Prince Rong, Feng Xuanyi, whose reputation for indulgence in pleasure far exceeded even his princely status. To maintain her chastity under such circumstances would seem, to outsiders, nothing short of absurd.
Yet such was the reality, regardless of whether others believed it. Still, He Yin’s purity did not contradict Feng Xuanyi’s libertine nature. Each time he visited Qunfang Courtyard, after concluding business, he would summon a few young novices to amuse himself. But today, for him to simply sit briefly and leave in such a businesslike manner was unprecedented. It left He Yin somewhat unaccustomed. Upon further thought, though she seemed to have found an answer, she still found it difficult to accept, and could not help but ask in astonishment, “Could it be as the rumors say—that you have become so enamored with that young master Liu Yin newly taken into your residence from the opposing Xinfeng Pavilion?”
At these words, Feng Xuanyi paused, as though searching his memory for this person named “Liu Yin” based on He Yin’s description. After a long moment, as if suddenly recalling, he smiled ambiguously. “Though it is only rumor, it is not entirely without basis.”
With that, he turned and left the room gracefully and unhurriedly.
By the window, slightly opened at one corner, He Yin—her face veiled—watched as the carriage of Prince Rong gradually disappeared into the distance.
Seated within the carriage, Feng Xuanyi closed his eyes to rest, his expression calm and composed. Gone was the calculating cunning he displayed before He Yin and Xuanji, and gone too the carefree, playful demeanor he showed in court. His face was tranquil, yet at the corner of his lips lingered a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Liu Yin… it had indeed been some time since he last went to see him. Had He Yin not mentioned this person, he might well have forgotten entirely. Yet at this moment, compared to Liu Yin, the one he wished to see more was someone else—someone full of mysteries, someone even he could not see through at a glance.
Though merely a servant, there was none of the usual reverence or fear in his eyes that other servants showed toward him. If anything, such emotions were only feigned, occasionally slipping. One might say his nature was simple—nothing unusual—but what was strange was precisely this: how could an ordinary servant possibly know how to preserve his own safety within this complex and treacherous prince’s residence?
Next
Futile Devices Scans 
Leave a comment