Futile Devices Scans

“What are you doing?” Ning Xuan looked up at Feng Xuanyi in confusion.

Completely unconcerned, Feng Xuanyi raised a hand toward Qing Zhu, who was standing frozen nearby, signaling for him to hand it over. Qing Zhu did not dare hesitate. This was the master of the residence, the absolute authority whose word was law. He hurried forward in a few quick steps and respectfully placed the rabbit-fur collar into Feng Xuanyi’s hands. Feng Xuanyi lifted his eyes and motioned for Ning Xuan to come over.

As if by reflex, Ning Xuan immediately covered his neck with both hands. He glared at the collar in Feng Xuanyi’s hands for a long moment before grumbling unhappily, “What are you doing?”

Feng Xuanyi could not be bothered arguing with him. After so many days together, he had long since realized that talking things through with Ning Xuan was generally a waste of effort. Action was always faster. He grabbed Ning Xuan and pulled him in front of him before fastening the fluffy collar around his neck.

Ning Xuan dodged several times but failed to escape. At first, because other people were present, he held back what he wanted to say. Yet all the meaningful looks he shot Feng Xuanyi went completely ignored. Worse, the soft fur immediately brought back images of bloody skinned rabbits. Finally, he could not hold it in any longer.

“I already said I don’t want to wear this! Why are you wrapping me up like this?”

“Everything else is negotiable, and I’ll indulge you however you want, but not this. If you catch a cold in weather like this, I’ll be the one dealing with the consequences.” He caught Ning Xuan’s hands before they could pull the collar off again. Then he turned to the already dumbfounded Mo Qi and Qing Zhu. “Change his clothes too. Find something thicker and warmer.”

Although Ning Xuan genuinely appreciated Feng Xuanyi’s concern and attentiveness, he still felt awkward displaying it in front of “outsiders.” His bright eyes kept darting toward the Eighth Prince, Feng Xuanzhen. Yet from beginning to end, Feng Xuanzhen appeared completely uninterested in what was happening. He simply sipped tea, admired the paintings, and occasionally clicked his tongue in appreciation, making it abundantly clear that he had no intention of involving himself in their affairs.

“Stop looking around and go change into something warmer. Then we’ll have lunch. If you keep fussing, the food will get cold.” Feng Xuanyi had not failed to notice the nervous glances Ning Xuan kept directing toward Feng Xuanzhen. He simply chose not to explain anything and instead calmly sent him back inside to change.

The one who insisted on keeping their relationship secret was Feng Xuanyi. Ning Xuan himself did not care about titles or status. However, Feng Xuanyi wanted to spare him unnecessary trouble, so he had been meticulous in concealing their relationship. For the past few months there had been endless speculation, yet things remained largely peaceful. But in front of this person, Feng Xuanyi made no effort whatsoever to hide his closeness to Ning Xuan. Ning Xuan knew that either Feng Xuanzhen posed absolutely no threat, or Feng Xuanyi trusted him completely. Given Feng Xuanyi’s position and status, the latter seemed far more likely.

Unwillingly, Ning Xuan returned to the inner chamber to change. The hall fell silent once more, though this silence felt strangely deliberate, as though neither prince wished to speak first. The only sound came from Feng Xuanzhen’s teacup lid lightly tapping against the rim every now and then. It was difficult to imagine that two imperial princes—both powerful sons of the Emperor—were quietly waiting for a lowly servant to finish changing clothes before having lunch. Yet neither seemed to find anything unusual about it, including Prince Yu himself, the young general whose recent military achievements had earned him admiration throughout the empire.

Not long afterward, the carved sandalwood door opened again.

It was clearly the same person, yet the change of clothing made him seem entirely different.

No luxurious ornaments adorned him. There were no elaborate silks, jade pendants, or embroidered sachets. He had simply removed his usual grayish-brown servant’s uniform and changed into a plain moon-white satin robe. The fabric was not even the finest quality. Fur trim lined the collar, cuffs, and edges, giving the outfit a warm and comfortable appearance. His eyes shone like polished lacquer, bright and clear. His dark hair was loosely gathered with a simple green jade hairpin and nothing more.

Yet it was precisely this unadorned simplicity that made him impossible to ignore.

It felt as though nothing in the mortal world could truly capture his attention. Before, Ning Xuan’s presence had conveyed youthful liveliness and carefree confidence. Now there was an added air of elegance, freedom, and detachment, as though he were an immortal who had accidentally wandered into the mortal realm. One could not help wanting to devote everything just to earn a place in those eyes.

This was the first time Ning Xuan had ever worn such expensive fabric. Feng Xuanyi had prepared these clothes for him long ago, but Ning Xuan had always refused to wear them. As a servant, dressing too extravagantly seemed inappropriate. Besides, servant work inevitably involved bumps, scrapes, and dirt. Ruining such fine clothing felt wasteful. So he had quietly stored them away at the bottom of a chest. Yet for some reason, Feng Xuanyi had insisted today that he change out of his familiar servant’s uniform and put on this elaborate outfit instead. Ning Xuan had reluctantly complied, but Feng Xuanyi had not said a single word about whether it looked good or bad, leaving him oddly uneasy.

“What kind of expression is that? If it looks good, say it looks good. If it doesn’t, say it doesn’t. If you don’t like it, I’ll just change back.”

Though he tried to sound stubborn and indifferent, his actions betrayed him. He tugged at his sleeves, smoothed his robe, and shifted uneasily, clearly nervous.

For the first time, he truly understood the saying that women dressed to please the ones they loved.

The same applied to men.

Who wanted their beloved to think they were sloppy and unattractive? Everyone tried to present the best version of themselves. Some people even went so far as to invent perfection where none existed.

Feng Xuanyi said nothing.

He merely looked Ning Xuan up and down, examining him thoroughly. Yet throughout the entire inspection, he remained silent. His expression revealed nothing. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his face was so unreadable it might as well have been carved from stone.

Even Feng Xuanzhen, who had been idly drinking tea and admiring paintings, stopped tapping his teacup lid. His eyes lingered on Ning Xuan, and for a moment he looked genuinely stunned. Instinctively, he turned toward his fifth brother.

At that exact moment, Feng Xuanyi suddenly rose to his feet.

Feng Xuanzhen never got a clear look at his expression.

“Let’s eat. The food’s getting cold.”

With that, Feng Xuanyi strode out of the room first.

Feng Xuanzhen paused briefly before following after him.

Although Ning Xuan was completely baffled and had no idea what had just happened, he did not have time to figure it out. Compared to what might very well be nothing more than his own overactive imagination, filling his stomach seemed far more important.

Without another word, he called for Qing Zhu and Mo Qi, who still had not noticed the brief but strangely tense atmosphere that had just filled the room, and hurried after the two princes.

Outside, the cold wind immediately sent his hair fluttering. Though it looked picturesque enough, Ning Xuan had no mood to appreciate any poetic scenery. He tightened the snow-rabbit fur collar that he had sworn moments ago he would never wear and trudged through the fresh snow. The ground crunched beneath his feet with every step as he shivered his way toward the warm refuge that promised both food and comfort.

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