Rising alongside Feng Xuanyi was the mistress of the room, Madam Liu, Liu Xiaoyun. Clad only in a thin set of sleeping robes, she showed not the slightest concern that other men were present in the room, as though Feng Xuanyi was the only person she could see.
A trace of drowsy haze still lingered in her dark eyes, yet whenever she looked at Feng Xuanyi, they brimmed with tenderness, as if they could drip with affection. Swaying her slender waist with graceful, measured steps, radiating charm and beauty in every movement, she leaned against Feng Xuanyi’s chest with fragrant breaths. Her fair arms, pale as the moon, accepted the clothes Yi Heng handed over. Smiling sweetly, she helped Feng Xuanyi dress, occasionally whispering something in his ear that brought a blush to her cheeks. Her eyes, half coy and half reproachful, sparkled with unmistakable adoration. They nuzzled close together without the slightest restraint or concern for who might be watching.
Why should they be concerned? Ning Xuan could not help but laugh bitterly. He was her husband, and she was his concubine. They were husband and wife. What about such a universally acknowledged intimate relationship was inappropriate? What was there to hide? This was her right and his tacit approval. Only those who could not stand in the light needed to conceal themselves. Only a passing amusement, a toy indulged on a whim, did not need to be announced to the world and invite unnecessary trouble. After all, how many such playthings had there been? If every one of them needed a title and an explanation, would he not end up dizzy from keeping track of them all?
Who would panic or make a fuss simply because someone preferred cola today and green tea tomorrow? And who would have the time to inform every person they knew whenever their tastes changed?
The entire room of servants regarded it as ordinary, something they had long grown accustomed to. This was everyday life. Who would still find it noteworthy? Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that long before Ning Xuan had entered the manor, scenes like this had already played out countless times. For him to be shocked now was probably rather late.
He was a servant, a servant of the lowest standing imaginable. Yet Ning Xuan wished more than anything that he truly were only a servant. At least then he could have faced such a loving and intimate morning with an ordinary heart.
With all his attention fixed upon Feng Xuanyi, Ning Xuan failed to dodge in time and collided head-on with a maid hurrying inside carrying hot water. The kettle had only just been boiled, steam still rising from it, and its contents splashed completely over Ning Xuan’s arm.
The scalding heat pierced him like countless needles, spreading across his entire arm. The pain drained all color from his face, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead one after another. Yet he endured it without making a sound, nearly grinding his teeth to pieces before he managed to suppress any cry. Unfortunately, that was not even the worst part.
It was not that he could not cry out—it was that he dared not. He feared disturbing the two masters. Along with the flustered maid, he dropped to his knees with a thud. It was winter and he wore several layers of clothing, yet the impact still struck his heart like a hammer blow, leaving even his bones trembling. His arm burned as though on fire, but he could not spare it a thought. Because his carelessness had disrupted such a tender moment, he had to kneel humbly. He had to kneel respectfully.
Keeping his back perfectly straight, Ning Xuan did not feel that he had done anything wrong. It was simply that, in this era, everything about him was wrong. Lowering his eyes to the floorboards, he spoke in an even voice. “This servant deserves death. I beg Your Highness’s forgiveness.”
The clumsy maid was clearly of low status. It was likely her first time serving in the room. Not only had she failed to seize the opportunity to distinguish herself, she had made an enormous blunder instead. She shook like a leaf, unable to think about manners or even pleading for mercy. All she could do was tremble. If Ning Xuan’s posture could still be called kneeling, she had simply collapsed onto the floor like a heap of mud.
The entire room froze instantly. Silence descended. Even Yi Guang’s hand, halfway through passing over a towel, halted awkwardly in midair. The stillness was so profound that a pin dropping would have been clearly audible. The air itself seemed heavy. No one dared speak, and no one dared move.
“Are you all waiting for this prince to do it himself?” Feng Xuanyi did not even turn his head. His gaze remained fixed on the towel suspended halfway toward him, as though Ning Xuan did not exist at all.
That single sentence jolted everyone back to life. Hearts pounding with fear, they hurried to resume their duties.
“This servant deserves death.” Yi Guang immediately dropped to his knees, raising both hands above his head and presenting the towel for Feng Xuanyi’s use.
When the city gates catch fire, even the fish in the moat suffer. Yi Guang was entirely innocent. Everyone in the room had frozen just moments ago. He had merely been unlucky enough to stand in the line of fire.
“His Highness must be hungry. Such a temper so early in the morning,” Liu Xiaoyun said with a bright smile, smoothly easing the tension. Though they were servants, the attendants who remained constantly at the prince’s side were people even the official mistresses needed to treat with courtesy. No one knew when they might prove useful. “Pei’er, go see whether the crystal sweet soup warming on the stove is ready. His Highness likes that flavor. Be sure it hasn’t cooked too long.”
“Yes, Madam.” The maid called Pei’er curtsied and hurried away with quick, efficient steps.
Taking the towel from Liu Xiaoyun’s hand, Feng Xuanyi swiftly wiped his face. Liu Xiaoyun, who had hoped for a little more intimacy, reluctantly withdrew her hand. With the assistance of her maids, she quickly finished dressing. Before long she appeared elegant and dignified without sacrificing her graceful beauty. The fur collar around her shoulders was exceptionally fine, its hairs glossy and lustrous. Though winter clothing was usually bulky enough to make people resemble wrapped dumplings, Liu Xiaoyun showed not the slightest trace of heaviness. Instead, the added layers only enhanced her soft curves, making her appear even more alluring. Her narrow waist, tightly cinched, could capture a man’s gaze instantly. Her hair was pinned up neatly, while the jeweled flower ornaments at her temples added a lively charm to her already captivating appearance. She was impossible to look away from.
Leaning against Feng Xuanyi like a delicate bird seeking shelter, Liu Xiaoyun nestled at his side. Feng Xuanyi wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders. Servants on both sides swiftly draped fur cloaks over their masters before opening the doors and leading the way with lanterns.
Throughout the entire process, Feng Xuanyi never once looked at Ning Xuan, who remained kneeling with his back straight. He neither rebuked him nor granted forgiveness. It was as though Ning Xuan simply did not exist.
Although he never lifted his head, Ning Xuan knew. Feng Xuanyi’s gaze had not rested on him for even a single moment.
The room suddenly felt empty, and somehow his heart felt empty along with it.
He did not know how long he remained kneeling there. Even the burn on his arm no longer seemed painful. His eyes felt dry and gritty. No matter how hard he blinked, he could not summon even a single tear. Ning Xuan found it almost amusing. Was this not the sort of moment when people were supposed to cry? Was the saying true—that a man’s tears did not fall easily? Though he was no longer certain whether someone who willingly lay beneath another man and offered himself in submission could still be considered a man.
He did not know how long he had knelt before the door opened once more and Yi Xuan entered, clearly intending to help him up.
“How long do you plan to kneel here?” Yi Xuan frowned, unable to bear watching Ning Xuan torment himself like this.
“The master hasn’t told me to rise. What servant would dare stand without permission?” Ning Xuan replied with complete seriousness.
“You—!” Yi Xuan was furious. “But the master never told you to stay kneeling either!”
In the past, Ning Xuan would have found some clever excuse to avoid suffering. Who willingly made things difficult for themselves? But times were different now. He was already out of favor. Why would he deliberately throw himself into further trouble?
“His Highness has already gone to morning court. This is Madam Liu’s residence. She’ll be back soon. If you insist on kneeling, at least don’t do it here.” Throwing out those words, Yi Xuan turned on his heel and strode away without another glance.
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