Futile Devices Scans

“Enough, stop chatting nonsense with me. Attend to me while I change clothes and prepare for bed,” Feng Xuanyi spoke again.

Ning Xuan was momentarily unable to react. Clearly he was the one enduring both “physical” and mental oppression while patiently accompanying Feng Xuanyi through this boring, endless night conversation. Yet judging from Feng Xuanyi’s tone, it somehow sounded as though Ning Xuan had been the bored one desperately begging for entertainment, while Feng Xuanyi had magnanimously tolerated him out of sheer mercy for a long time already?!

Confused but obedient, Ning Xuan followed him into the inner bedroom. He thought that once this great deity finally went to sleep, his own suffering would end as well. Though he still wouldn’t get proper rest after all this torment, at least he could temporarily escape this soft-knife kind of torture. For the first time, he deeply sympathized with why people in ancient times considered living into one’s forties or fifties to be old age. Emperors died young from overwork and accumulated illness, while their attendants and officials probably perished from inhuman psychological pressure. Honestly, if they didn’t develop split personalities, that alone was impressive enough.

What Ning Xuan failed to realize, however, was that perhaps very few people actually considered this pressure or suffering at all. One would need an incredibly detached worldview to regard wealth, fame, and power as worthless dirt. Countless people sharpened themselves like blades, risking their very lives and sacrificing everything possible just to climb upward with all their might, desperate to approach the center of authority and status.

Before the folding screen, Feng Xuanyi stopped and calmly spread both arms.

Ning Xuan, who had assumed his duties only involved making the bed, lighting incense, and extinguishing the lamps, froze in shock. Don’t tell me this man, who clearly has functioning arms and legs, expects me to undress him too?!

After desperately recalling the scene from early that morning—when Feng Xuanyi had been surrounded and attended like the moon among stars—Ning Xuan resigned himself and stepped forward. Secretly, however, he felt somewhat pleased. Thankfully he had spent the entire afternoon receiving intensive training from Yi Xuan on the fundamentals, combined with his own diligent practice. Though he hadn’t reached the level of effortless mastery, at the very least he probably wouldn’t wrap Feng Xuanyi into a rice dumpling anymore.

Yet the instant he approached, an image uncontrollably flashed through his mind. Ning Xuan hurriedly lowered his head to avoid Feng Xuanyi’s indifferent face, his own face instantly turning bright red.

What the hell is wrong with me, getting all lovestruck in the middle of the night?! And over a man, no less! Why did that scene from this morning suddenly pop into my head?! No—not kissing. Being kissed. The academic term should be “forcibly kissed”!

Feng Xuanyi noticed Ning Xuan’s movements stiffen mid-approach, followed by his hurried avoidance of eye contact. Completely puzzled by the situation, he nevertheless caught sight of the ears rapidly flushing red. Just as he was about to tease him, however, a vivid mental image suddenly surfaced in his own mind: a rice dumpling completely wrapped layer upon layer—and the person tied up inside was himself.

Mistakenly assuming Ning Xuan’s embarrassment stemmed from that disastrous incident earlier that morning, Feng Xuanyi’s outstretched arms twitched slightly. A chill seemed to blow across his back as lingering trauma resurfaced.

“Go make the bed first,” he suddenly said.

Upon hearing that, Ning Xuan looked as though he had received a royal pardon. He practically skipped away in delight, secretly marveling that Feng Xuanyi’s level of enlightenment had risen so suddenly. Not only was he willing to handle things himself, but he was even considerate enough to avoid embarrassing situations. Ning Xuan couldn’t help viewing him in a better light—though only regarding his ability to take care of himself.

Little did he know just how conflicted Feng Xuanyi felt, or with what level of “fear” he was lowering himself to do things personally.

Thus, though each harbored completely different thoughts, the two unexpectedly managed to coexist in rare harmony.

Ning Xuan arranged the pillows carefully, adjusting them to a comfortable height. He spread out the blanket, folding one side halfway inward so it could easily be pulled open in one motion later. Rising to his feet, he lowered the bed curtains on both sides. When he turned around, he was met directly with Feng Xuanyi standing there wearing nothing but his inner trousers.

Damn it, he actually sleeps shirtless!! At the very least, shouldn’t he wear an inner robe or something?!

Ning Xuan, who completely failed to understand the concept of sleeping half-naked, immediately felt goosebumps erupt all over his body again. Tiny jealous and resentful voices in his heart screamed wildly before exploding altogether, leaving him dizzy.

His skin tone clearly didn’t look like that of a laborer who trained diligently beneath the blazing sun, yet those perfectly shaped chest muscles and six firm abdominal muscles were enough to make women drool and men envious. Lean and toned without becoming exaggerated or overly bulky—even though this wasn’t the first time Ning Xuan had seen them, every encounter still struck him with the force of a thunderclap. Thinking about the pitiful little bit of muscle he himself had managed to maintain through relentless effort and exercise, it truly couldn’t compare. Ning Xuan could only inwardly howl at the heavens and demand: Why?!

Feng Xuanyi seemed completely unconcerned about being stared at so openly, even if the observer was merely a low-ranking servant. In fact, he appeared rather pleased and proud of himself. As he walked past Ning Xuan, he deliberately teased him again.

“I told you already—you’re allowed to touch,” he said, eyes curving mischievously. “Anytime you want.”

His smile deepened wickedly.

“Or if you want to do something else instead, that’s fine too.”

The ambiguous implication behind those words was impossible to miss. Yet Ning Xuan completely ignored the suggestive meaning. His first instinct upon hearing that was merely to ask whether he was allowed to punch Feng Xuanyi once.

Passing by Ning Xuan, Feng Xuanyi walked to the bed in a few steps and lay down. He casually pulled the prepared blanket over himself, though only up to his waist, leaving large portions of his chest exposed. One hand reached out from behind the curtains, lifting them slightly to reveal half his face.

“I don’t use incense while sleeping at night. Just extinguish it,” Feng Xuanyi instructed. “Leave one lamp burning and put out the rest.”

He gestured lightly toward a nearby couch.

“You can sleep there tonight. No need to stand guard in the corridor.”

Once he finished speaking, his hand withdrew. The pale golden bed curtains fell shut again, sealing the bed off from the outside world as though drawing an invisible boundary that separated everything within from everything beyond.

Ning Xuan obediently completed each instruction one by one before finally moving to the place Feng Xuanyi had designated for him to rest. He couldn’t help reflecting that perhaps he really should feel grateful. The other night attendants all suffered terribly while keeping watch in the corridor. Spring and autumn weren’t too bad, but summer meant becoming mosquito food, while winter meant freezing through the night. No matter the season, however, they could never truly sleep well.

At least he himself had obtained something resembling an actual bed. At the bare minimum, he wouldn’t freeze or get devoured by mosquitoes.

Warmth unexpectedly spread through Ning Xuan’s heart. He had never expected to receive this kind of treatment—to be treated as someone special…

Almost unconsciously, he raised a hand to the top of his head, as though he could still feel Feng Xuanyi’s warmth and touch lingering there. A prince… the Emperor’s own son… had actually dried a servant’s hair…

What exactly did that mean?

Though Feng Xuanyi had always acted recklessly, constantly teasing him and taking verbal advantage, in the end he had never truly crossed the final line. If Feng Xuanyi had insisted on doing whatever he wanted, then given Ning Xuan’s status, strength, and ability, resistance would have been utterly meaningless. It would have been a case of being used and discarded without recourse. Yet because Ning Xuan resisted and struggled, Feng Xuanyi had stopped short in the end.

Could that behavior be considered respect? Could it mean Ning Xuan truly was special? Could it perhaps mean—

“Smack!”

A crisp slap suddenly echoed through the bedroom.

Ning Xuan’s eyes were red, and a glaring handprint stood vividly against his pale face. His body trembled uncontrollably.

Damn it! Why is it that every time something involving Feng Xuanyi happens, I suddenly enter this bizarre lovestruck maiden mode whenever I think about the two of us?!

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